Exposed || Camren

Chapter One: Rewrite

That night, the Cabello girls and team walked away with a thousand dollars to their name and a plan for the next pageant Camila was going to win.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pressing some foundation into her cheeks with a sponge, Camila sighed heavily. It was four in the morning, a lot earlier than most people her age would be up by. Other seventeen-year-olds were sound asleep and couldn't even imagine waking up that early. They would much rather stay in bed all day. Although, most seventeen-year-olds weren't beauty pageant queens like Camila.

Ever since her first pageant, Camila had entered every pageant she was eligible for. After thirteen years, Camila had entered over a hundred pageants and won eighty of them. She had a whole wall of her room dedicated to her (and her mother's) hobby. The wall was littered with ribbons, medals, and three large bookcases that housed all of her trophies. Every morning, the brunette would wake up and right in front of her was all of her successes. Sinuhe claimed it was the best way to wake up; with confidence and determination.

So, that morning, Camila was getting ready for another pageant. This time, it was one outside of the city that she somehow was eligible for. She wasn't quite sure what strings Sinuhe had pulled, but they must have been yanked because the pageant rules had been changed quickly after a few phone calls made by Miss Sinuhe. While Camila's mother wasn't exactly like most pageant mothers, which was a little cuckoo mixed with painkillers and energy drinks, she also wasn't someone anyone wanted to cross. She knew how to get what she wanted, and for Camila, she would do anything.

As Camila covered up her dark under-eyes with some concealer, she tried to envision herself winning the pageant. It had been a while since she had entered into one, as school was in session. With summer just a few months away, though, and prom just before that, pageant season was also knocking at the door. A weight filled up Camila's chest then, like her lungs were filling up with water. She gently put down her makeup sponge, then gripped the edge of her vanity, her eyes slipped close.

Calm down, Camila, it's going to be okay, the young woman thought to herself as she took some deep breaths. It doesn't matter if you win this pageant or not.

Or at least Sinuhe made it seem like it didn't matter. In actuality, after the past pageants Camila had lost her mother wasn't always enjoyable to be around. It wasn't that Sinuhe exactly got mad at Camila, she just tended to give her the cold shoulder and act disappointed. Which was somehow worse than anger. Camila thought she could maybe handle her mother being a crazy pageant mom who yelled and threw tantrums. But the silence that filled the car after receiving a second or third place trophy along with the soft sighs made Camila's heart sink. She felt like she could do nothing right after that, no matter how hard she tried.

Camila pressed her forehead against the cool marble top of her vanity. She took a few more breaths before finally lifting her head. A thin, red indent went across her forehead, much like a headband. Camila groaned and tried to cover it with a bit more foundation, hoping that she hadn't pressed hard enough to bruise. Under stage lights, she was sure the judges would see every single imperfection, down to the pimple forming just below the skin on her chin.

"Camila!"

The young woman turned her attention to her open door. She frowned as she wondered why her mother was already calling her down. She turned her gaze to the clock and realized she had spent thirty minutes on her foundation alone. If Camila wanted to be on time for this pageant, she would have to do the rest of her makeup in the car.

"Damnit, Mila," she mumbled to herself. Why did she take so long to calm down from her stupid, mini panic attack? Why did Camila even have the attack in the first place? What did she have to worry about?