Hunter Hayes Imagines (Requests Closed Again)

Past

You've just been signed to Atlantic Records! It's taken you a lot of hard work to get here, but hey, you did it! It was easy to find inspiration to write about, especially from the past you had. Your parents abused you, and when you were in high school you used to cut. You've moved past that now, and the scars on your wrists remind you every day what you've overcome. 

You've been assigned a mentor, Hunter Hayes. You think he's pretty cute, but what you really like about him is his passion for music. You want that someday. 

He's been stopping by your apartment at random times without giving you a heads up, he says you've always gotta be prepared. Whatever that's supposed to mean. 

You're currently sitting at your piano in your apartment, practicing a new song you've just finished writing. You were wearing sweatpants and a tank top. Something sleeveless for once, and it made you feel good. Your hair was in a knot on top of your head, and you were glad you had the day off. 

The doorbell rings and your door opens without your consent. A Cajun voice echoes throughout the house, "Hey, Y/N! I brought pizza!" 

Okay, so maybe you don't have the day off after all.

"Y/N?" he calls from the doorway. You continue playing. "In here! And you can set the pizza on the table." 

You get a hum in response, and pretty soon Hunter joins you at the piano. Your fingers dance over the keys as you feel the music and the power it has inside of you. The entire song Hunter remains quiet, so when you finish, you turn to look at him. You notice his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at something, so you follow his eyes to see what got his attention. 

He's looking at your wrists. 

You hastily hide them behind your back and stand up, feeling your face burn red. 

"Y/N-" 

"Thanks for the pizza, you don't have to stay, i-if you don't want to," you stutter. He looks at you with concerned, sad eyes. 

"Y/N, a-" 

"It's getting late, you should probably go," you interrupt him again. Before he can say anything else, you push him out your front door and slam the door on his face. You hear him try to open it back up, but you lock it. 

"Y/N, let me in. We don't have to talk," he says through the door. He sounds heartbroken. 

"I think you should go." You close your eyes and fight back tears of shame and regret. Why did I have to wear no sleeves tonight?

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Y/N," Hunter's defeated voice rings in the air, and you hear his footsteps as he walks away. You sigh and run a shaky hand through your hair, knowing Hunter's never going to give this up. 

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Thanks for reading, and remember you're not invisible. I mean it. You're really not. I love all you guys out there, and I hope you realize how beautiful you all are. Thanks for reading again.