Photograph- Demi Lovato

4

Demi

I was miserable the next day, moping around my house and wasting time before my studio slot. I hadn't been writing or singing much since Wilmer and I had split up so my manager, Phil, was thrilled when I called him to schedule me. Now, I didn't want to go at all. At this rate my album would be too depressive to release because all of the songs I had written were about break-ups and being heartbroken, not the girl-power anthems everyone was used to. Finally, I couldn't put it off anymore, and had to drive to the studio. At the entrance, there were a few paparazzi, and they were all particularly excited to see me as they yelled questions about Wilmer and my sanity since the breakup.Phil was waiting for me in the lobby, and after giving me a hug he gripped my shoulders and surveyed me.

"How are you holding up?"

I forced a smile, "Good."

He chuckled, "So you're miserable, which is understandable. But channel it in your music. Speak to him through the song." I nodded and walked up to the studio with him, "So did you want to do an instrument first or acapella recording?"

I shrugged, "I need to do some thinking about where I want this album to go... I know how to work everything so if I end up recording I'll give it to you."

Phil took my subtle hint that I wanted to be by myself, and walking out, leaving me alone with a variety of instruments, each with the potential to unwrap all of my deepest feelings. I chose the piano, running through all of the chords and scales from memory before beginning to play out a simple melody that had been stuck in my head for the past few days. Soon, more and more notes were combining into a beautiful song. I was scribbling down as much as I could, and finally was done with it. Now excited that I was feeling something other than this intense heavy sadness, I began to think of words that flowed wit the music, shaping them into verses and choruses that fit perfectly. It was sad, and slow, but still it felt good, I was finally letting out the emotion I felt. After an hour or two I was finished, and sat back to stare at ttthe finished product. Clapping started behind me and I turned to see Phil smiling at me. A blush took over my face as he placed a hand on my back.

"You've still got it." I smiled shyly has he looked over the lyrics, "This is good Dems, really good. You want to do some recording?"

I nodded, "I'm going to do the piano part first, so I have a backtrack to sing to."

He fixed me up a microphone, then I played through the rough track. It helped that I had already written the lyrics so I was able to shape the music to what I knew I would sing in rhythm. Once I was done, Phil and another producer set the track, and I walked into the booth to start singing.

Why does it feel like I'm livin through you
Tell me why I'm addicted to you
Cause I don't even know.

Chasin this cause we think we want it
But I can't breathe cause the air is toxic
Tell me where to go.

It's a thin thin line, to admit or deny,
Yeah, Our is a different kind of love.
It used to be savin' us, now it's just breakin us,
It's not about just giving up.

Get away get away get away
Get away get away get away
Get away get away get away.

Do I stay cause you say you need me?
I crave it more when it isn't easy
How am supposed to grow?

It won't fix cause cause I say I love you.
I need to show it but i don't know how to.
How am I supposed to grow?

It's a thin thin line, or admit or deny,
Yeah, our is a different kind of love.
It used to be savin us, now it's breakin us
It's not about just giving up.

Get away get away get away,
Get away get away get away
Get away get away get away

Get away get away get away
Get away get away get away
get away get away get away

Yeah, Yeah, Get away.

Yeah, Yeah, Ohh

Ours is a different kind of love.
It used to be savin us now it's just breakin us
It's not about just giving up,

We know we're not safe, hey yeaah
Ours is a different kind of love.
It used to be savin us, now it's just breakin us,
It's not about just giving up.
You know we're not safe enough.

Get away get away get away
Get away get away get away
Get away.

I was crying hard by the time I was finished and as the music came to an end in my headphones I ripped them out and pushed open the door, ignoring Phil's question as I ran out. As I walked quickly down the hallway, I turned to go into the bathroom but my body slammed into a solid body.

Hands gripped my shoulders, "Are you okay?"

No. That voice, I looked up into those familiar brown eyes and let out a whimper, jerking out of Wilmer's hands and fleeing past him to an empty studio where I dropped to my knees and curled into a ball and began to sob. The door opened behind me and I felt hands on my waist pulling me into their chest, the spicy cologne I used to wake up to every morning filled my nose causing me to flinch away.

"Don't toucch me." The words came out strangled as I crawled away from him.

"Demi."

His voice used to be soothing, I had a faint memories of him calming my anxieties just by speaking. Now though, the mere sound of his voice drove stakes into my chest and ripped through my heart.

"Demi you need to calm down. You're going to have a panic attack. Now breathe." He pulled me into his chest and this time I didn't resist, curling into him and pressing my face into his shoulder.

"Why did you have to leave?" I whispered, not fully aware that I was speaking out loud. "I know I wasn't good enough for you, but I tried." I felt him sigh, but continued, "It hurt so bad when you were gone. My chest, my arms, my head. Everything ached at your absence. My life just turned gray. I was so confused. Why didn't you ever come back to me?" Now, I was sobbing, "I never wanted you to leave me, because I'm not going to be okay without you."

He sighed again and took my hand, "Demi I'm so sorry."

My entire body tensed as I realized it wasn't Wilmer's arms I was crying in, but Phil's. I'd been imagining Wilmer's presence.

"No it's okay." I wiped my eyes and moved away from him, "I think I'm gonna go home. I'll see you in a couple of days for our next session."

He nodded and helped me to my feet, "Demi I know this is a scary thought, but I think you need help."

I sighed, "I'm fine, I think I just need some time."

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-Rachel