Late Night Evacuation

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Lauren opened her eyes and rubbed at them to quicken her adjustment time. She was exhausted because she stayed up all night studying. Well that, and her neighbor was playing really loud music the night before. There were also lots of voices too, maybe there was a party going on? She didn’t know, or care. All she cared about was the fact that now she had to go to class on less than five hours of sleep. So she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She got dressed in her usual attire of a t-shirt, a flannel, and a pair of skinny jeans. After pulling on her beanie, she pulled on her boots and rushed out the door. As she turned back to lock it, her eyes wandered to the green door a few feet away from her own. She could hear noises coming from inside and she turned her key quickly so she wouldn’t get stuck in the elevator with whoever was coming out of it.

If it was one of her neighbor’s one night stands, then she’d be fine. It would be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like she’d ever see them again. Guy or girl, if Lauren saw one running out, it always looked like they were running like the place was on fire. Must’ve been her neighbor’s fantastic hosting abilities. But if it was actually her neighbor, it would be more than awkward. It wasn’t like they were friends. If anything, the young girl who lived next door annoyed the shit out of Lauren. She always had people over and was really loud at ridiculous hours, and sometimes she could hear her singing in the shower for like an hour straight. She stepped into the metal box and clicked the ‘door close’ button as fast as she could, but it was too late. A high-heeled foot blocked the closing elevator door and when it opened, Lauren was greeted by her neighbor, the one and only Camila Cabello.

“Thanks for holding it Laura,” the girl said as she stepped in.

“It’s Lauren,” she muttered under her breath, because there was seriously no point in trying to get this girl to learn her name. She had been called Laura, Logan, Leigh Anne; it was out of control. They had been neighbors for two years and in the beginning spoke on several occasions. But when the girl found out that Lauren wasn’t into her model/party girl world, she stopped making an effort. As the girl obnoxiously scrolled through her Instagram feed, laughing and scoffing at the pictures, Lauren couldn’t help but to admire her. Regardless of her shitty personality, Camila was gorgeous. Which was expected, because she was a part-time model. She wasn’t big, but Lauren had seen her face in a few magazines advertising clothes or hair products. Yeah, Camila Cabello was most definitely a looker. But that was where it ended.

Lauren, an out and proud lesbian, had no problem admitting that a girl was attractive and telling them whether they were gay or not. And she also didn’t judge people based on their appearances. But she really didn’t get Camila’s appeal to other people. Sure she was drop dead gorgeous, but what was she like in a conversation? The ones she had with Lauren were about parties and drinking and clubbing. Did she even have any substance? Has she ever read a book before, one that wasn’t about fashion or beauty tips? As she looked her up and down, she almost groaned in annoyance. The thing she probably disliked most about the young model was probably her sense of style.

Today, she was wearing a furry pink sweater thing, a white crop top, a short plaid skirt that was too short to be worn by anyone but a porn star, knee high black socks, and six inch black heels. To Camila, she probably thought she looked like a million bucks. To Lauren, she looked like a prostitute. Like a high end one, for athletes or singers, but a prostitute nonetheless. There was no way that was comfortable, no matter who you were. Not to mention, it was probably freezing outside and this poor girl was about to bare her legs to the cold air. She watched and rolled her eyes when the girl used the shiny metal of the door as a mirror to apply more shimmering pink lip gloss.

The girl turned back to Lauren and smiled brightly. Lauren fake-grinned back and averted her eyes to the ceiling. “So, do you have a girlfriend?”

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