A Fortunate Encounter Pt. 01

If I made it out of this party alive, I was gonna kill Arin.

Ok, so that was probably a little unfair. But the only reason I'd agreed to come out here was that Arin had said that producers came to these sorts of parties all the time and for the love of God, could I just get my ass out of bed and come down here?

Well, that had sounded promising. As someone who hadn't sold a script in months, I was desperate for any door back into the industry I could get. But Arin ditched me in minutes for a blonde woman with short hair who looked oddly familiar (Arin would only call her his "muse") and I was stranded alone, stuck in a whirling sea of influencers and socialites with too much cash in their wallets and too much alcohol in their blood.

Wonderful.

Well, as long as I was here, I figured I might as well try to suck it up and talk to a few people. You sunk or swam by networking in film, after all.

Most everyone seemed pretty busy dancing or downing shots, but there were a few groups of people off to the side talking. I approached the group closest to me, taking a deep breath as I grew closer.

As I walked towards them, the group continued to look at one another, ignoring the newcomer in their midst. I tried not to notice.

"Hi, guys! Name's Ray..." Too late. They stood up and walked off elsewhere, not even pausing to validate my existence with a single insult.

Fuck it. Me, try to network? There was a reason the only script I'd ever sold happened through sheer luck: I was shit with other people. And as rude as that mini-clique was, they could probably smell the desperation on me.

Now that I'd written off the whole night as a wash, I decided to go to a secluded corner next to the balcony and write until I saw Arin so I could tell him I was bailing. As I moved to sit down, head starting to throb from the pounding club music that pervaded the room, I saw someone out on the balcony that stopped me dead.

They were out on the balcony, angrily yelling into a cell phone. I was awestruck as they paced back and forth, whipping their short black hair back and forth with every turn. They had on a tight leather dress that hugged their body in all the right ways alongside fingerless gloves that made them look seriously punk.

My jaw dropped even further when they turned around and I could see their face all the way: it was motherfucking DEMI LOVATO.

"What do you mean there's no money in it? You're my manager, you're supposed to goddamn fight for me! I...no, I will not calm down! I have not jumped through every hoop you all have put me in front of me for the past I don't even know how many years to tell me that when I want to do my own thing, I can't! No...NO, YOU LISTEN TO ME. FUCK YOU.".

As they spat out the last words, they slammed the button to hang up violently and threw the phone down onto a nearby table. I really should have left, but I couldn't stop looking at the scene unfolding in front of me. So of course they look up and see me staring like an idiot.

Shit.

"The fuck you staring at?" Demi yelled. "Need to get some pics for whatever tabloid's got a proverbial bounty on my head this week? Well, snap away!"

"No, I..." I tried to protest, but they kept going. "You know, it's all your fault. All you assholes who put me in a box and give me labels. Doesn't matter what I say, what I do...I'm just the ex-Disney wipeout. Well, fuck you too. And that's on the record."

They stormed off the balcony, shoving me out of the way with their shoulder. Though every survival instinct in my body told me to shut up and bail, I yelled out "I'm sorry!".

Demi stopped dead in their tracks and turned back to me, the faintest hint of tears glistening in their eyes. "What did you say?"

The words started pouring out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry everyone's put you in a box you can't escape. I'm sorry every shitty journalist from here to Sacramento wants to peg you as another child star destined to burn out. I'm sorry people won't listen to you and let you make the art you want to make. I can't even imagine how shitty that feels."

Wow. Where did that come from?

Demi walked up to me slowly, staring me dead in the eyes. I wasn't sure whether they were going to hug me or hit me. Instead, they said "You're the first person to say that to me in...I don't even know."

All I could muster was a nod in agreement.

"Thank you. I'm...I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I thought you were just another leech looking for a scoop." they apologized.

"No worries," I replied. "I imagine it's hard to kind of turn off that sense of constantly getting watched."

"You have no idea," they said, mouth breaking into a small smile. "Now let's try that whole introduction thing again. My name's Demi...though I'm thinking you knew that already."

"Maybe just a little bit," I joked, sticking my hand out towards them. "Ray. Is my name, I mean."

They smirked at me a little, before taking my hand and shaking it. Fuck, even their smirk was hot. "You meet a lot of celebrities, Ray?"

"Not international superstars. Now mid-tier movie moguls? I've got their answering machine messages memorized."

"Oh, a Hollywood type? Actor?"

I laughed. "Oh, God no. I'm not nearly good-looking enough for that. Screenwriter."

They cocked an eyebrow at me. "Not sure I'd agree with that assessment."

Wait. Did Demi Lovato just call me good-looking?

"You wanna sit down? I think we're blocking traffic a bit," they asked, gesturing toward a nearby couch. I looked around, finally realizing how many people had been squeezing around us to get to and from the balcony.

"Good idea. But don't feel like you have to hang with me cause of the yelling, I know you're super busy and..." I tried to get out before Demi cut me off. "I'm not talking with you as some apology substitute. I'm talking to you cause I want to. Now let's go sit." I promptly shut up and followed them over to the couch. Amazingly, the couch was empty aside from us, except for a drink cooler at the far end.

"Can I ask you something?" Demi said once we'd sat down. I nodded in confirmation. "When you write, do you ever get people creatively stifle you? Like, they want to take your ideas and make the story they want to see rather than what you wanted to?"

"Oh, all the time," I replied. "It's kinda the nature of screenwriters. The only thing the bigwigs care about is the bottom line, and I've gotten tons of notes telling me I need to homogenize. Make my script more like their last movie. That's just how it is."

"That sucks," Demi said, looking down towards the ground. I saw a flash of sadness cross their eyes.

"Hey, but that doesn't mean it's always gonna be that way for you!" I added. "You're also one of the biggest pop stars around and you're talented as hell. I think if you give it a little time, you'll find someone who knows how to let you make art without feeling like they need to box you in, you know?"

They smiled back up at me slightly. "Nice save."

I raised an eyebrow at them. "Uh, that was the greatest save in the history of the world, I have NO idea what you're talking about!" I said with as much fake outrage as I could muster, causing Demi to giggle.

"Oh, so you're a dork too. Good to know," they said, eyes glinting mischievously at me. I blushed a little in response. "They tell me that's in nowadays..." I muttered, earning me a gentle flick on the chin. I looked up at Demi. "I never said it wasn't." they almost whispered, looking me dead in the eyes.

I have no idea how much time passed, but the next thing I remember is Demi grabbing my hand and pulling me up. "C'mon, let's dance. We sit any longer, and my legs are gonna fall asleep."

They pulled me past the couch through the hallway and out to the main room, which was a confused mess of dancers and drinkers. We went over to the far corner, where people were a little less packed together. Demi let go of my hand and began moving to the beat, their hips swinging almost hypnotically. It took all my mental power to start dancing alongside them rather than just stare like an idiot.

I wasn't alone either. I noticed at least a few other people stop dead in their tracks to watch them dance, eyes tracking their every move. If Demi noticed, they didn't show it.

They turned to look at me as I struggled to at least pretend I could dance half as well as them. "Not too bad."

I laughed. "Not too bad? I'd hate to see what you think is bad dancing."

"No, seriously! You've at least got something, you'd be surprised how many people can't even move to a beat to save their life."

I slid a little closer to them. "So, any chance you can get me a gig as a backup dancer for you then?" I asked teasingly, causing them to laugh. "After a couple years of training, maybe."

I grasped my heart in fake agony. "Your words! They sting me!" They just rolled their eyes at me and kept dancing, though I could see a big grin on their face.

Suddenly, the music switched over to "I Wanna Go" by Britney Spears. Demi's eyes lit up as they heard the opening notes. "YES!!" they shouted, throwing themselves into the song. Their enthusiasm was too infectious to not grin at.

As the song played, we started closing the distance between each other. It wasn't long before we were practically touching, Demi's eyes glinting in the flashing lights.

Fuck it. It's time to go for broke.

As they raised their hand, I took it and spun them around gently. They laughed, turning to me. "About goddamn time," they said, a smug look on their face that just made me want to kiss them so badly.

"What can I say? I'm bad with subtle details." I quipped back, bringing their hand back down to their hips so I could take their other hand. When I did, they raised their hands so our arms were over our heads and spun so their back was facing me. They pulled my hands down to their hips and pushed their body against me. They grinned as the breath escaped my lips.

"Then fuck being subtle," they said, grinding their ass into my crotch. I exhaled sharply as a sharp bolt of pleasure ran up my body, my dick responding immediately to Demi's motions. "Mmmmmm...there we go," they purred, turning around to give me another smirk.

Oh, it was on.

I moved my hands down to their hips, taking care to trail my fingers slowly down the sides of their dress as I went. I could smell their perfume so well up close: it was intoxicating. I could see them let out a tiny sigh as I went, pushing harder back against me.

Suddenly, I spun them back around to face me, putting my face next to theirs. I almost pressed my lips to theirs...before jerking away at the last second, giving them a smirk of my own. They looked back at me in shock for a second before grinning. "Ah, I see you want war then," they said.

"Bring it on," I said back, now breaking eye contact.

I lost track of how long we danced. We kept turning up the heat as we went, trying to get the other to crack in some unspoken competition between the two of us until we were practically grabbing at each other's clothes. Demi finally broke the trance.

"Ok, we are going to break some public decency laws if we keep going," they snarked, shooting me a lustful look. "And...?" I replied, trying to pull them in again. They pushed me back playfully.

"I'd rather not read "International Pop Star Arrested for Fucking Stud in the Middle of Hollywood Blowout" in the morning paper tomorrow, it's a bad PR look," they said. I nodded, stepping back.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I asked, face flushed. They giggled. "I'm going to the bathroom. Wait three minutes, then meet me in there," they said.

My eyes widened in shock, but I managed to otherwise contain my surprise. "See you in there," I managed to get out. Demi winked at me and made their way off the dance floor, pushing through the flimsy door in the back leading to the bathroom.

Attempting to play it cool, I kept dancing, eyes glued to the clock on my phone. Seconds felt like hours as I tried in vain to get into the music. What did they have in mind? Were we going to go all the way? Why me? I-

Arin's voice snapped me back to reality. "Yo, Ray? What are you doing out here all alone?" he yelled, making his way towards me.

Son of a BITCH. Not now.

"Oh, don't mind me!" I yelled back, waving him off. "I'm all good, you go find your muse!"

"No, that's the thing. I've been telling her about you, and she wants to meet you. Said she might need your writing talents for a side project she has going," he said, finally making it through the crowd to stand next to me.

"This isn't a great time, Arin." I tried to say, but Arin cut me off with a look. "Dude, what else are you doing right now? C'mon," The 3rd minute ticked by. It was go time. I turned toward Arin and grabbed his shoulders.

"Listen, dude, I would love to meet her. I promise. Anytime other than now. And I'm saying this with all the love in my heart, but I need to bail. Sorry! Bye!" I babbled, turning around and making a break for the bathroom. I couldn't see him anymore, but I knew the exact face of bewilderment he was giving me right now.

Sorry, Arin. Might have just met the love of my life. You'll understand. Hopefully.

I pushed past the bathroom door and surveyed the room for Demi. I didn't see them. As I got closer to the stalls, one of the doors burst open and a hand grabbed me, pulling me inside. I didn't have time to react before I felt a pair of soft lips on mine. I closed my eyes, relaxing into the kiss. When I opened my eyes, I saw Demi exhale slowly, biting their lip as they looked up at me.

"And he's a good kisser too. I'm impressed," they said, playing with the top of my shirt. Their words filling me with confidence, I pulled them closer to me, kissing them deeper. "Mmmmmm," they moaned through the kiss, running their hands down my chest. Their lips tasted like a mix of whiskey and sweet lip gloss. I was already addicted.

It wasn't long until we were full-on Frenching in the stall, hands all over one another. They pushed me back against the stall wall, breaking away to suck on my earlobe.

"Oh Godddd," I groaned, moving my hands down their waist to squeeze their ass. They let out a little surprised cry as I squeezed, coming up to give me a mock indignant look.

"Getting bold, are we?" they whispered, trailing a single nail down my cheek. "You started it," I retorted, though I did take my hands off their butt in case they wanted to stop things here. They immediately grabbed my hands and placed them back on.

"I didn't say stop," they murmured seductively.

Oh. Fuck.

They smashed their lips against mine, moving their hands down to grab my ass in return. I grinned through the kiss, reaching up to cup their face so I could kiss them harder. Our tongues dueled for a while before I moved down to their neck, peppering it with kisses. When I hit the nape of their neck, I started sucking gently, making them let out a long moan.

"Ohhhhhhhhh yessss...just like that, baby," they groaned, pulling my face in closer to their neck. I started sucking a little harder, leaving a small mark behind.

"Mmmmm..aahhhh...you better not be leaving a big-ass hickey down there," they warned, hands clenching my body tighter. "Don't worry, I'll play nice," I whispered, giving them a tiny kiss on the nose before going back to their neck.

As I started to kiss down their neck to their chest and the ample cleavage their dress produced, a loud BEEP echoed through the room, starling me. As I jumped a little, Demi laughed, showing me their cell phone. I blushed, embarrassed.

"Sorry, I need to take this," they said, bringing the phone up to their ear. I started to leave the stall to give them privacy, but they pulled me back in, using their free hand to pull one of their tits out of their dress and offer it to me.

I didn't need to be told twice, lips latching onto their tan nipple and teasing it with the tip of my tongue.

"Hello?" Demi asked, their face scrunched up in pleasure. "James? This better be real fuckin GOOD...YES...sorry, what were you saying? Yeah, I told him to fuck off...he's my manager, dude's supposed to have my back....well, I don't give a f-FUCKKK that he's threatening to quit. You can take over, I've told you as much before...c'mon...James, really? Yeah? Fine."

They hung up the phone, gently lifting my face up. "That was amazing Ray...but I have to go," they said apologetically, stuffing their loose breast back into their dress and smoothing their hair down.

"Everything ok?" I asked, to which they nodded. "Mostly. But my manager I was on the phone with earlier? He's threatening to quit, and now I gotta go to this mediation with all these lawyers and convince him it'll never happen again, all that shit." They sighed. "I would have canned him years ago, but the label insists I keep him on."

"I'm sorry, Demi. That's awful," I said, opening the stall door and stepping out. "And don't worry about having to go. I'm no stranger to the work called, gotta jet game."

They smiled at me warmly. "Thanks for understanding. But don't think you're getting out of this that easily," they said. "Now cough up your phone."

Without a word, I handed them my phone. They typed in something real quick, then threw it back to me, exiting the stall. "Call me, and we can pick this back up from where we left off...or something."

I grinned, stashing my phone in my pocket. Demi pulled me into one last long kiss before walking out. I watched the seductive sway of their hips as they left.

Best. Party. Ever.