“Y/L/N, 5 minutes until your interview starts.” You glanced up at the random person who had poked his into your dressing room, giving him a quick nod to show that you were ready. He left right away without saying anything else, and just for a moment you wished that you had been more polite to him. It would've been nice to have someone to talk to, even if he was a complete stranger.
“You stood up and made your way over to the door that lead to the set, taking a deep breath before putting on a large smile as you were given the cue to enter. You waved at the studio audience, barely being able to resist rolling your eyes at how excited they seemed. What was so special about you that made them so happy to see you? The hand that you offered to Ellen was completely ignored as she pulled you into a friendly hug that you returned after a few seconds.
“Stop being so awkward” your manager's voice rang out from the earpiece that you were wearing. Ellen picked up your latest CD from her table and started talking about it, asking you the same questions that you had been asked millions of times. Seriously, how hard was it to think of something original? Regardless of how you were feeling, you still smiled and laughed at her jokes. When it came time for you to perform your current single, you did so with a smile and even interacted with the audience a little bit.
You didn't stick around afterward, telling your driver to just take you home instead of going out to lunch as you had planned. “You can go. I'm not doing anything else today.” When you walked into your house your feet automatically took you to the bathroom and even though you lived alone, you still locked the door behind you. You put your left arm under the faucet, watching as the hot waster washed away the makeup to reveal countless marks. Some where old scars that had healed, but most of them were recent cuts that hadn't had time to heal.
Without even needing to look, you reached into an open drawer and pulled out an unused blade. The first cut didn't hurt, so you made several more until you felt the familiar sting that you had been craving. You were smart enough to stop before seriously hurting yourself because according to your Twitter account there were millions of people who would miss you, though you couldn't figure out why they cared.
The week after your interview with Ellen was uneventful, at least until you got a phone call from your manager. “You've heard of Demi Lovato, right? Well, her manager contacted me and apparently Demi wants to work on something with you” he said before even giving you a change to give a greeting. “That sounds great but I'm really tired of being in the studio. Tell her that I'm busy.” You thought the conversation was over, but apparently not. “Actually, this is a great opportunity. It's just one song so it won't take long. She's already on her way over to your place right now.” You wanted to argue, but a quick beep let you know that the call had been ended. “Fuck!” you shouted, tossing your phone on the coffee table. Your place was reasonably clean, so there wasn't really anything for you to do other than wait around for Demi.
You had just made yourself comfortable when the doorbell rang, but you weren't in any rush to answer. You trudged over to the door, pulling it open and smiling at Demi. “It's so nice to meet you! How are you?” You stepped aside and invited her in, mumbling a quiet “I'm fine.” She followed you to the living room, sitting right next to you on the couch. “What kind of song do you want to do? If we do something simple with a catchy tune we can fin-” She cute you off, talking louder than she probably intended. “I show your interview with Ellen!”
You stared at her blankly, wondering why she had just randomly blurted that out. “Um, okay? Did I say something offensive?” She shook her head, fumbling awkwardly with her hands as she thought of what to say. “No, you were great. Perfect actually. Your voice is just incredible. I couldn't that you looked so unhappy.”
