The week went by rather stressfully and quickly. I was very irritated when I found out that Adam’s help, Shakira, wasn’t in charge of our performance of Hurricane. She was just in charge of teaching us the music.

Guess who was in charge of the performance. Must I say it? Demi.

It was too happy-go-lucky. Too . . . unusual. I was all about different, but I hated it. I guess it wasn’t really unusual, though. It was just annoying and just like most other performances nowadays.

Flashy, sexual, and way too personal.

Niall and Demi continued on like usual, laughing and cutting up any time we weren’t rehearsing.

It didn’t help things, at all, but I used all my willpower not to show it, even when Brinley came up to me and said, “See, Everit? Told you it was stupid to fall for him. He’s too in love with her to ever wanna be with anyone else, especially you.”

That was the moment I just left. We were in the kitchen, trying to decide what we wanted to eat, but I was done watching Niall and Demi. Done listening to Brinley.

Noah was the one who came up after me. Obviously Niall couldn’t, but I wanted it to be him so badly that when Noah came in there, I actually burst into tears in his arms.

Honestly, I’m not sure how long we stayed like this. I cried until I didn’t have any tears left in me, and then I was just really thirsty and achy. My eyes burned, and my face felt like it was a hundred and twelve degrees.

Noah gently sat me down on my bed and plopped down beside me, brushing my hair out of my face so he could look at me. “What’s going on, Ev? Obviously it has something to do with a certain pop star downstairs, but I mean, why’d you leave? What’s really bugging you?”

“The way he looks at her,” I said, something that actually seemed to surprise him. To be honest, it kinda surprised me a bit, too. “The way she seems to make everything better. He’s stressed out? Oh look. Here comes Demi to fix the problem. He’ll be sitting at the table, and I can be standing five feet away from him, but his eyes don’t light up until she comes in the room.”

“Ev, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s completely and utterly not what happens,” he informed me, eyebrows furrowed. “Why would you ever think she’s the one that brings a light to his eyes? You’ve never been in the room when you’re not around, obviously. He looks happy sometimes, sure, but it’s nothing like when you’re there. Even when he’s stressed out, he looks alive because you’re in the room. Five feet away from him. You wanna know why he does what he does, why it seems like Demi’s the one making things better?”

I sniffled, something that made me grimace. “Why?”

“Because he’s stressed out, and the only way to deal with it right now is to pretend someone makes it better,” he said. “He can’t have you yet, so he has to find something to keep himself from exploding. Hiding the stress back for when you can be there to help him, to make everything better . . . that’s what he’s doing, Ev. She doesn’t really make it better. And you know that, too.”

Of course I knew that. Of course I knew that every part of him was on edge. Of course I knew that he couldn’t sleep at nights because he was so stressed.

Didn’t mean it wasn’t a good excuse.

“What is it then?” he inquired. “Why are you so upset?”

“Because, to be honest, I don’t think anyone will ever love me,” I blurted out, before I could even think about it. “The thought alone scares me. It’s been bugging me all week when I see those two, and I realize that at any moment, he could change his mind and move on from this. He’s Niall fucking Horan, and any girl, anywhere, would be with him in a heartbeat. And I would be a distant memory, if he even remembered me.”

“Okay, before I point out the million and one things wrong with that statement, let me remind you of something you seem to be forgetting,” he said, and his eyes tightened. “Sex isn’t the basis of staying with someone, but sex is something important and special. Especially to you two. Do you really think he would just give it up, lose his virginity to you, if he didn’t love you? Someone who’s waited twenty years for sex doesn’t just crush on a girl and give it up like that.”

I felt my heart fluttering at the reminder of that perfect night, fluttering at the thought that maybe he shared feelings. “I see your point, but I guess I’ll never believe it. No matter what you say, I can never make myself believe and understand you may be right.”

“He’ll have to say it himself, I suppose,” he sighed.

I took a deep breath and began twiddling my thumbs. “Fuck love.”

“Fuck love?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “No. Fuck the person who made you think like that. I know for certain it wasn’t Niall.”

“It was me,” I admitted. “My mind works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, when I’m up all night thinking about how I’ve royally screwed up my life in the past, thinking about how I’m probably gonna continue doing that, I think that maybe things would be easier on me if I wasn’t in love with him. If I hadn’t let myself fall.”

“If you really wanted to, you could stop loving him right now,” he pointed out. “But you don’t want to. You know that as well as I do. Nothing inside of you wants to stop loving Niall. You’re just hurting and confused and think that would solve your problems. It never would. All you’d end up with is lots of regrets, and honestly, you’d probably love him all over again.”

I hated that he was right.

---

The week progressed on from there. By Saturday, at the stage rehearsals, I was ready to just collapse and blow up.

Adam’s team had gone first, and then the girls rehearsed our song. Then the guys. Once they were done, Adam’s team all left, and we stayed to do our own stage rehearsals.

Niall, Demi, Adam, and Shakira were all here to watch. I wasn’t entirely sure why Adam and Shakira stayed, but I had a feeling it had something to do with me. Or maybe it didn’t. I don’t really know.

Watching Madi’s performance helped cheer me up. I hadn’t seen anyone else’s performances Demi was working with, but I knew what I had planned for mine and what she did with mine were two polar opposite things. She wasn’t letting me decide, mentoring me like she was supposed to do. Like I had seen her do with artists when mentoring on the X-Factor, she was completely destroying my personality, my originality as an artist.

I hated it. Hated every part of it. She turned the whole thing into a sexy, no fun, pop-like thing. She wanted me to have backup dancers for a Tonight Alive song that wasn’t even a song I could dance to!

Is it just me, or is that absolutely absurd? Backup singers? Sure. There were parts they would be awesome. Backup dancers? NO!

That’s why I was so pissed off today. Today, I had to do this stupid performance in front of my other team members and Niall. Also Adam and Shakira, apparently.

Madi’s performance was as she wanted, just like Kiley’s. Noah’s was a little different than he would’ve done, but he really didn’t know what to do with his entirely. So, he let her help and actually loved what she did. With Brinley’s performance of I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, I wasn’t sure what was Demi’s touch and what was Brinley’s.
They seemed to have similar ideas, though Brinley had no backup dancers.

Then, of course, it was my turn. I looked like utter crap with my hair thrown in a messy ponytail, wearing a white cami and rolled up grey sweats, but it was the one thing I could be proud of.
She told us to dress similar to what we would be dressed like on Monday, and I was nowhere near where I would be.

She looked pissed off already.

When the song started, the first thing I noticed that was off was that it started after I had decided to start it. It started right where I came in with the main vocals. It didn’t have the music leading up to it like I wanted.

That’s why I was already off when it started.

I decided to be spiteful now. The backup dancers were behind me, doing their thing, and I wasn’t moving. I was doing my own thing in the midst of her barnyard explosion.

“But I deserve this. You don’t. Please don’t blame yourself. I can’t say that I won’t.”

“Okay, stop!” Demi called out, something that actually pissed me off more. “Okay, Everit, has it not occurred to you that you perform in, what, two days?”

“Yeah, it has,” I said, and I gave her a very bitter and sarcastic smile. “It kinda threw me off when you, I don’t know, changed the way I had the music planned?”

Niall actually covered his face with his hands as he mumbled, “For fuck’s sake.”

Despite how frustrated I was, that made me laugh, which Demi took the wrong way and instead used that for fuel to her hate fire.

“This is funny?” she snapped. “Fine. Do what you want. Look stupid.”

“I already do!” I yelled back at her, something that made everyone either jump or gawk at me. “Your stupid plan for my performance already makes me look quite stupid! I’m not some pop little whore who can dance around with fucking backup dancers! This is Tonight Alive! You can’t have a dance routine and backup dancers for Tonight Alive. It looks stupid!”

“I’ve been doing this a little longer than you have,” she told me, eyes tight. “I think I know a little more about this.”

“I’m not you!” I exclaimed. “You know what you wanna see. Nothing about this is me! I’ve been trying to tell you this all week, but you ignore me and keep saying, ‘I know more about this than you do.’ I got it. You’ve made four albums that did really well. But you don’t know me or my style. This isn’t it, at all.”

“You remember that little speech Niall gave you at the beginning of the week about not getting a big head?” she asked with her eyebrows raised as she folded her arms over her chest.

My eyes widened. “Really? Are you even listening to what I’m telling you? This isn’t about being cocky. I could lose and fall flat on my face, but I’d rather fall flat on my face staying true to myself than being some bimbo singing a Tonight Alive song with backup dancers.”

“Bimbo?” she scoffed. “Is that what I am?”

I rubbed my hands over my face before letting out a grunt. “I didn’t say that, not once! I’m trying
to make a point. This isn’t your show. You can’t control me and make me do anything. I’m gonna do what I want. I shoulda done this at the beginning of the week, but I didn’t. And I regret that. But I’m gonna perform how I wanna perform. You can help me with what I’m doing, or you can just be silent on the matter. Honestly, I don’t care either way, but I’m done doing what you want.”

Niall frowned at me as I jumped off the stage and walked right out of the room, but the amount of cares I gave had shrunk down to none at that point.

The building was strange, being so empty, but it gave me a chance to vent as I began pacing in a very small circle back and forth.

Oh dear. What did I just do?

The doors opened again, and the person standing there surprised me. It was Niall, and to piss me off even more, he looked very irate.

“If you’re gonna lecture me on how I was wrong, bite me,” I muttered.

Despite how pissed he was, that sparked desire in his eyes. “I completely agree with almost everything you said in there. I don’t agree, however, that you shoulda left. Ignore her, Evie. I don’t care if you listen or not. She’s got this weird personal vendetta against you, and though I don’t know why yet, I’ll figure it out. My point is, don’t let her stop you from being you. Go back out there, do what you want with this, and actually practice like you need to. Rehearse on the stage and make it kickass. I can’t wait to see it. For no other reason, be yourself and do what you want right now for me.”

So that’s exactly what I did.

Notes

The lyrics are from Good Day by Angels and Airwaves.

Like I said, please don't hate me because of the drama with Demi. xP It's not my opinion of her. Only fan fiction. To be honest, I don't think she's anything like she's portrayed in this story. At least I hope she isn't. o.o

I hope you guys continue to enjoy! :)