Demi

I stood there, watching him in the club as he danced on some girl.

They were together, or so it seemed. He was always taking her out on fancy dates and cute coffee shops where the paparazzi had a field day. I could barely walk down the street without paps screaming questions about him and his new toy at me.

She doesn't look at him the way I did. She doesn't touch him the way I did. She smiles up at him, but his in return isn't genuine. I know his genuine smile. He's not happy. She can't love him better than I do.

They're in the middle of the dance floor, grinding on each other slowly, lost in the music and only having eyes for each other. For once I was grateful for this, so he wouldn't see me in the dark corner, watching them painfully.

He was always an amazing dancer. When we were in Bora Bora and went to clubs we always went dancing. I wonder if he ever took her there, but I doubt it. That was our place, so many memories that swirl around me when I go there that I doubt he could handle it with another person.

Her lips find his and I stiffen, a quiet gasp slipping from my lips. He grabs her waist and pulls her close, but I know that kiss isn't the real thing either.

He used to kiss me, but not like that. Our kisses were different each time; passionate, fast, slow, sloppy, rough, sweet, gentle, slow. But each time it held a certain air if intimacy. This wasn't that. I could tell by the way his hands stayed at her waist, while her hands traveled up his back and through his hair. She was aggressively shoving her tongue into his mouth, and I knew how much he hated that. I knew everything about him.

He pulls away, and I watch with a smirk as his hand stubbly comes up to wipe his mouth. But she isn't done. My smirk vanishes as she grabs his hand and pulls him right towards me, towards the dark corner that is my hiding place. He stops, because he knows what she wants, and shakes his head. He motions to the dance floor again and I watch her roll her eyes before going back to him.

He never really liked club hook-ups. Of course, while we were dating we definitely had our fair share. He told me he didn't like going too far in clubs because it made him feel like he was using me. He wanted us to be in a bed before we went all the way.

They're kissing again, and I honestly feel bad for her as she's obviously trying to bring out some sort of lust from him. She doesn't know that he doesn't like that. She doesn't know that what really gets him going is slow, long, sensual kisses that he can't pull away from.

Like the ones we used to have.

I didn't realize I was leaning forwards until a light flashed over my face. To my horror, Wilmer's eyes were open as she kissed him, and he was staring directly at me. But as the light was gone, so was I, moving quickly to a different part of the club, through bodies grinding against each other and faces that were blurred in my hurry to get away from him. A hand encloses around my wrist and spins me around. I close my eyes instantly, not wanting to see his face.

"What are you doing here?" His breath is warm against my face.

I finally opened my eyes, he was looking down at me with a guilty expression. He shouldn't feel guilty. He's moved on, it's clear. I just have to figure out how to do the same.

"I just... I just wanted to see it for myself." I whisper, but he hears me somehow in the loud club over the pulsing music.

"Why?" He demands softly. "Why would you do that to yourself?" I look at my hands, trying to ignore it as his hand finds my waist and the other lifts my chin up, "Why." He says again.

"Because I knew you moved on, and I needed to make sure you love her as much as you loved me." He goes to shake his head but I speak again, "But you don't. You don't love her. I can see it in the way you look at her, kiss her, and even just the way you touch her. You can fool the world Wilmer Valderrama but you cannot fool me."

He shakes his head, "Why do you do this to me? It's like I finally think I'm getting over you and then you're here and you look like this and you're so god damn beautiful. I know you know me. I know that you know I don't love her. But right now, she's what I need. We hurt each other Demi. You know that."

I grip his arms, "I do, but do you expect me to let you move on without seeing if you're really over me?"

He bites his lip, "I'm never going to be over you Demi. Ever."

With that, he leans down and crashes his lips on mine, kissing me the way we both knew was full of love. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him long and slow, just the way I knew he wanted to be kissed. We pull away and I stare up into his eyes, our arms dropping to our sides.

"Wilmer? Who's this?"

I could've punched the bitch.

Wilmer was looking down at me with a weird expression, but I still knew it well. A war of conflict was going on his head. Finally, he spoke.

"Just a longtime friend. We were just catching up." I could feel something inside of me crack as his arm wraps around her waist, "I'll see you around Dems."

Somebody said you got a new friend...

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-Rachel