Demi Imagines 2.0

Arranged Part 6

You see them before you see her.

Cars. Dozens of them surrounding her house. The only consolation is that they're not police cars and ambulances. You can assume she's safe, at the very least.
You park a little way from her house and try to go in through the back. Demi had told you about this "secret" entrance, and you never thought you'd have to utilize it so soon.
You go in though the back, slipping though the seemingly impenetrable fence. In reality, it's very much penetrable—if you just know the security code and where to look.
You slip inside, careful to be quiet. You don't see Demi anywhere outside, which may or may not be a good sign. You start toward the house. Only the lights on the second floor are on. You think you can hear voices, but it might just be the paparazzi.
You don't know what's going on—obviously. You just hope she's okay.
You go in through the sliding door; it was left open. Going inside, you look around the darkened room. Cups are strewn everywhere. It's a complete mess. There's a strobe light on the floor that's only half-functional.
It looks like the remnants of a party, but you can't understand why she would throw a party like this.
You go upstairs to her bedroom; the light is on there. You knock on the door and get no response.
"Demi?" you call. "It's me."
"Go away," she says, her voice cracking.
"I'm not going away," you tell her.
"Please. Just leave," she responds quietly.
You let out a breath. You don't know what's going on, but you know she's in there. You have to talk to her. "I'm coming in," you say, trying to push open the door.
Only it's locked. "Demi, open the door."
"No."
You feel your heart start to beat faster. You don't like this. You have a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
"What's going on?" you ask. You can already hear the panic in your voice.
"Nothing. Just leave."
"Clearly there's something going on," you reply. "You threw a party?"
"No."
"Oh so a disco just threw up downstairs?"
"Okay fine I threw a party. Stop interrogating me." Her voice is cold, but her words are slightly slurred. Is she drunk?
"Demi," you start, your heart beating faster, "are you drunk?"
"No," she says flatly.
"Just tell her what's going on," someone says from inside. You feel yourself bristle. It's a guy's voice.
"No," Demi repeats, and you chew your lip.
"Who's in there with you?"
"Nobody," she says.
"I'm certainly not nobody," he replies, and you hit the door once in frustration.
"Open this fucking door right now, Demetria," you snap, and you hear someone moving around in the room. That's when the door unlocks and cracks open. It's a man. An attractive one at that. Even your gay ass can see that he's attractive.
"Who the fuck are you?" you ask, pushing the door open.
"Lance." He's not wearing any clothes. Well, he's wearing boxer briefs. That's it.
"Then go be a lance and stick your head in a fish. Get out of my way," you snap, moving past him. You don't know where this rage came from, but you're at the precipice. You see Demi on her bed. The sheets are all over the place. She's in a large T-shirt, and she's not wearing any pants.
It doesn't take a genius to understand what happened here.
"What the fuck, Demetria?"
"I fucked up."
She's clearly drunk out of her mind. You spin around and look to Lance.
"She's drunk. She's incapable of consent." You stare him down, but he just shrugs.
"She drank after."
"What? You're lying."
"He's not," Demi says, and you look to her. "I'm sorry."
Your face flushes. You're mortified, angry, and so confused.
"You're telling me you cheated on me?"
"We didn't like...do it," she says, as if that makes it better.
"But we almost did," Lance adds.
"Not helping," she tells him. She looks to you again. "I'm sorry."
"I thought you liked me?" The statement comes out like a question.
"I'm sorry."
"So is this it?" you ask, your heart clenching.
"Let her sober up and explain," Lance says.
You look to him. "You let her drink."
"What? I wasn't going to stop her," he says.
"Do you not know who she is? You don't give a former addict a fucking drink," you snap.
"Look, I don't know who she is. I know her name's Demi. That's it. I didn't know she was an alcoholic," he replies.
"You still tried to put your dick in her," you retort, and he raises his hands in defeat.
"It was a mutual thing."
"Oh yes, that makes it so much better." You turn around. "I need some fucking air."

A/N
I don't know what this is but my excuse is that I'm tired
still don't know what's happening :)