Why Try ➡️ jariana

01

"Make that six." A familiar voice was heard but I couldn't quite put my finger on it in my hazy state. A large hand attached to a tattooed arm, slapped some money down on the counter and the bartender looked like she would faint. "You a fan?" I wasn't paying much attention to their conversation as I waited for the freaking woman to hurry up with my shots.

"Um I ordered something, could you do your job please?" I finally cut into their little flirting session, sitting down in an empty stool, completely ignoring the glare I received from the bitch. "Thanks." I scoffed as she finally handed me my shots. The guy I still hadn't bothered to look at suddenly sat down and tapped my bare knee. I looked up with raised eyebrows.

It was Justin.

The boy I fell in love with but was sadly rejected when we were 18. All because of Selena. Don't get me wrong she's a nice girl but, she could've at least noticed how much I liked Justin before taking him for herself.

Of course I didn't hate Justin. After all we did preform in Miami together. Unfortunately we recently called the rest of my tour off because of my, habits.

The only thing I disliked about Justin was his ability to piss off Sean, ending with me getting a few bruises to join the rest of them.

Justin was all over me on stage, it was great but I tried to make it appear like I wasn't interested. Of course that plan backfired because Sean was still livid.

Flashback

"Why the fuck did you let him put his hands on you?" I was pinned up against the wall by Sean as I held my breath scared of what pain he would put me through this time.

"I didn't want him to, I- I'm sorry." I looked down ashamed.

"You're supposed to love me." He barked and I sighed. He was psychotic.

"I know I'm sorry." I apologized yet again, hoping it would save me. We were in my dressing room. Thank god the door was locked.

"Sorry my ass, you're so fucked." I went to protest but before I knew it my head snapped to the side as I felt a sharp pain on my cheek.

He had slapped me.

This wasn't the first time.

"You make me sick. You're a slut even in front of a crowd." He spat as I coward away.

"I-i tried to push him away, I'm sorry." I whispered as a tear escaped my tear ducts.

"Stop crying, no one feels sorry for you. You're a worthless piece of shit." Sean growled in my ear lowly.

"Fuck off!" I suddenly burst into tears. I was so sick of being treated like crap. I knew I wasn't but at the same time I was starting to think of myself the way Sean did.

I felt another blow to my stomach and I fell to the ground at the impact. "Bitch!" He snarled and I sat against the wall holding my stomach. "Now walk out there hand in hand with me and act like you love me." He ordered and I nodded weakly, standing up with the help of a nearby chair. I grabbed his hand and took a deep breath before we walked out smiling at by passers. Sean's lips grazed my cheek that hadn't started bruising yet, but it was bound to. I fought the urge to grimace.

I needed help.

I wanted help.

I shuddered at the second memory of the night. These flashbacks weren't unusual when I was intoxicated or even sober at that. It was just easier to deal with the thoughts while drunk and higher than a kite. It eased the mental pain. Of course the makeup covered bruises weren't very painless.