Tell Me You Love Me // Demi Lovato // 1

14. Stunner

Demi Lovato herself stood before me, smiling kindly at me as I exited the elevator, confusion crossing my face. Was this a joke? Was there really a shoot, or was this a setup to get me to come here?

No, this was a real shoot, a couple of guys setting up lights around a red backdrop proved it. And a lady was holding up different items for Demi to wear.

"What's going on?" I asked, hesitantly.

"You're my makeup artist for today," Demi explained happily. She... She didn't hate me? She wore a white robe, not yet dressed, but she had large hoop earrings and her hair was tied in a ponytail for the time being. She tugged on my hand, leading me over to a vanity. She hopped into the chair, spinning around as I began setting palettes and brushes on the table top.

"Why'd you call me?" I asked, beginning to work on her face.

Eyes closed, she replied, "Who else would I call?"

Um, literally anyone else, I thought, but I kept quiet.

The photographer then called out, "Can we be done within fifteen minutes?"

I glanced over at the very stylish man and nodded. I kept her makeup fairly simple: a nude lip and a dark eye, and was done in ten minutes, as opposed to the fifteen I'd been allotted. The photographer was very pleased as Demi was quickly dressed in a black dress with a plunging neckline with a leather jacket, her hair taken down and styled, and placed in front of the backdrop. I stood off to the side, watching her.

She was so beautiful, and confidence practically radiated off her in waves. I wished I had her confidence, honestly. I was never one to just throw myself into things. Like being on TV, or in front of an audience. Demi was a natural, but I liked to be behind the scenes; it was one of the reasons I got into makeup.

It had been my dream for Demi to be a huge star and I would be the one behind the scenes, quietly doing my thing. She had tried to push me to try modeling, but it hadn't worked out. She told me I just needed to learn my angles, but I told her I just needed to be on the other side of the camera.

After the shoot, I was packing up my kit, and Demi ran over to me, heels clicking on the hard floor. "Hey, do you wanna hang out?" she asked. "If you're not busy, I mean."

Ah, the one exception to the question about if I wanted to hang out with Demi. I did, I really did, but I also wasn't ready to talk about what I'd told her.

"Maybe tomorrow," I finally answered. "I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Maia, I'm sorry about last night. I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Demi," I said, cutting her off. "I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that, when I knew you didn't feel the same w-"

She slapped her hand over my mouth. "Will you please listen to me?" She took her hand away. "Every time I try to say something, you cut me off."

"I don't want to be rejected by you," I told her sharply, casting a glance over her shoulder. "And I'd rather not talk about this right here."

She nodded and while I finished packing my kit, Demi got changed into her street clothes. Jeans and a Mötley Crüe shirt. Since she hadn't driven to the shoot, she pulled herself into my car, and she gave me directions.

"Where are we going?" I asked, having no idea where she would be leading me.

"You'll see," she replied, mysteriously.