Demi Imagines 2.0

Arranged

Requested by DeniseGustafsson7 xx

You're mad...

"This is the best thing for both of your careers!"
"Are you serious? What part of this is good?" you snap.
"It's the only way that you're going to be able to get your name out there. You've been going downhill for ages. A marriage? That will get people talking."
"Just because you're friends with her mom doesn't mean you can toss me off to marry some random singer," you respond.
"She's not a random singer! She's Demi Lovato. Your gay ass would be so lucky."
"Mom, what the fuck?"
"I'm just saying! This will be great for you."
"I'm not a singer. How is this going to help my fucking career?"
"Just because you're a writer doesn't mean that a connection to a singer couldn't help," she replies.
"This is bullshit, and you know it."
"Stop with that. You're going to marry her, and that's final." She brushes her hair behind her ear and looks to you. "Besides, didn't you have a  crush on her when you were little?"
"That was literally twenty years ago," you respond bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Don't be so dramatic. It wasn't that long ago."
But it was; perhaps it wasn't twenty years ago, but it had been years. And yet, you can still remember it as if it were yesterday.

You were ten years old. You'd been friends with Demi for a while, and you knew you had a crush on her.
"Hey, wait for me!" you called as she ran up the jungle gym.
"You're too slow!" she yelled back, laughing as she climbed. You followed her, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
"Demi!" you yelled. "Where'd you go?"
"I'm up here," she replied, and you looked up. She'd gone all the way up to the top. You chewed your lip nervously. You weren't too good with heights.
"I'm scared," you admitted, and she looked down at you. Her face softened, and she came down from the top.
"We can play here, then," she said, smiling at you.
"Thanks," you replied, your heart skipping a beat. You didn't understand how you could like her. You didn't know why she made you feel the way she did. You didn't want to like a girl. But you couldn't help it.
She reached forward and took your hand. Her hand was warm in yours.
"You don't have to be afraid. I'm here," she said, making you smile.
"Don't leave me?"
"I would never," she said.

But she did leave—she had to leave because she started getting more and more famous with time. Now, she's one of the world's most famous singers and easily one of the most talented.
All while you're here, a struggling writer, about to have an arranged marriage with her.
Wild.

———

"Get off my fucking case!" you snap. "I've agreed to meet her, so can you just shut up?" you yell as your mom starts talking more.
"I just want things to go well for the both of you!"
"This isn't the fucking 1800s. You can't just arrange fucking marriages!"
"It's quite common in Asian countries—"
"Fuck you," you say, cutting her off. You're not in the mood for her bullshit. It's a basic human right to be able to chose the person you want to marry. And she's going and trying to get you clout. Fun.
But you will go to meet her. Just to shut your mom up. She won't stop talking about it. You're going to go fucking mad if she keeps this up.
You throw on a jacket and grab your phone before storming out the door. If anything, this will give you a chance to leave the house and get the fuck away from her.
Letting out a breath, you get in the car and start toward the meeting place you'd decided. You've been texting Demi a bit, and you're both pissed at your parents. If anything, that's one thing you can bond over. She hasn't really changed much, it seems. She texts how she talks, and it's cute.
You drive in silence toward your meeting spot: the beach. Of all places. You decided that you would meet at the beach. Her idea, not yours.
You arrive after a few minutes, and you pull into the parking lot. You see her immediately. She's wearing a flannel and jeans. Her long dark hair billows in the wind. She's wearing pink sunglasses and hoops for some unknown reason. You don't question it.
"Hey," you call when you see her.
She smiles slightly. "Hey."
"Good to see you. It may have been better under different circumstances, but that's alright," you say, laughing slightly.
She chuckles. "Yeah. It's good to see you, too, though."
She lifts her sunglasses up onto her head. Her brown eyes are shining in the light.
She gestures toward the beach. "Shall we?"
You nod.
Here goes nothing.

A/N
alrighty so this ended here
it'll have at least one or two more parts
not sure yet
anyway quick update:
So I met my crush at the beach yesterday and I'm convinced I'm in love with him yeet