The Coffee Spill |Demi Lovato|

Chapter 56

Written 2015

Revised May 2021

*Demi's POV*

The last week and a half has flown by faster than expected. Little by little, Ellie and I have found a home for her belongings. Her DVDs mix with mine. A photo of her childhood dog sits perfectly next to a photo of my childhood dog. The blanket her grandmother knitted rests perfectly on the back of our couch. Her makeup is happily organized opposite to mine. Our stuff flows so perfectly together, no one would suspect that a week ago none of these things lived here. But now they do. And I couldn't be any happier. 

I took the last week off to settle in with Ellie. No interviews. No promotional events. No social media. Thankfully my management team understood, but hinted that I should get back to writing music as soon as Ellie was settled comfortably. 

As she left for work this morning, I kissed her goodbye. Instead of falling back to sleep for a few more hours, I decided to stay awake, brewing a much needed pot of coffee. 

I walked into my studio, cup of coffee in my hands, inhaling the sweet hazelnut aroma. I take a seat at my desk, neatly stacking Ellie's lesson plans on top of each other. Most of them consisted of educational artistic exercises and I chuckled at the thought of once being so young we were taught how to count using raw macaroni. 

I set my cup of coffee down next to me and stare at my blank music journal. 

For each album, I like to use a different notebook. I'm not sure why, but it's something I've done since I started recording music a few years ago. 

Two cups of coffee later and my notebook is as blank as it was when I first sat down. There are some scribbles and little doodles in the margins, but no real work. No lyrics. 

I hear the vibration of my phone against the wooden desk. I pick it up with a smile on my lips as I see Ellie's name. 

One of my students just threw a tantrum because I wouldn't let him eat a Lego. How's your day going? 

I chuckle as I read her message. Not as entertaining as yours.

Oh yeah? I doubt it. 

Wanna bet? I've stared at a blank notebook and drank three cups of coffee since you left. 

Blank notebook? Are you writing again?

Writing. That's one way to put it. 

You just need some inspiration. Ellie's text reads, followed by a smirking emoji. 

I feel a lump form in the back of my throat. She can't be serious. A few seconds later, I hear a swoosh sound, followed by three attachments. I pause a second, collecting myself before opening them. 

Attached are three, well lit, well angled photos of Ellie, naked, sprawled out with a clear view of everything. From the headboard in the background and the blue and white floral comforter, I can tell these photos were taken at her old place. When, I have no idea. 

As I'm gawking over the photos, I hear the swoosh sound again. After appreciating the photos for a few more seconds I close them, reading her next message. 

I knew there would be a day these photos would come in handy. xoxo. I hope they fuel some inspiration. 

Oh they fueled something, all right. 

And just like that, we end our conversation. I feel heat rise to my cheeks and between my thighs as I close my eyes, thinking about the photos I just received.