Just Your Luck (Lauren/You)

Chapter 9

Lauren contemplates, then nods slowly.

"I don't want to hurt her, Camz. I promise."

"...You don't want to? Or you won't?" Camila frowns. "Those are two very different things. Do you even want to go through with this?"

"I- I don't know," Lauren admits.

She... doesn't know?

"You don't know? As in you don't know whether or not you can refrain from breaking (Y/N)'s heart? What do you mean you don't know? You've already started this shitshow, you can't just, not know now!" Camila is shouting again.

Before Lauren can respond, something terrible happens.

Your nose starts tingling.

You're about to sneeze, and you know there's no way to stop it.

You try to make it as quiet as possible, but when you do sneeze, both girls turn to look at the door you've been hiding behind.

Lauren's eyes go wide when she sees you.

"...Fucking hell," she breathes out.

Nobody says anything until Camila pipes up.

"Love...How long have you been there?"

Long enough.

Long enough to know that you very well might be just one of Lauren's toys, a petty, replaceable, play thing.

Long enough to know that she has another toy in the box, an old favorite toy. One named Luis, whoever the fuck that may be.

Long enough to know that you had been there long enough, and if your sudden tears were any indication, Lauren and Camila both knew as well that you had been there long enough.

* *

Your heart is pounding. The girls are both staring at you like they've seen a ghost, and you bet that you look pretty similar.

"(Y/N)..." Lauren trails off as the lone, Hollywood cliched tear trails down your face.

"No, don't," you mumble, brushing her off. "I shouldn't have actually let you trick me into thinking that I was special. I fell too fast, just like always," you shake your head, staring down at your feet. "We've known each other for what? A day? If that? You're a freaking popstar, worldwide sensation, and I'm just me. I'm nowhere near your league and I doubt I ever will be. Nothing about this is plausible. Am I being Punk'd? I got sucked into a movie? A poorly written fanfiction? Nothing. Makes. Sense. Hell, this whole tour is ridiculous," you laugh bitterly. "It's not like I can keep up with you guys to any extent, or compete with anyone that remotely knows what they're doing in this business. I was wondering if you had lost your minds, but turns out it was actually me. I had to have been off my rocker when I started to believe that I could actually-"

"(Y/N), don't you dare finish that sentence," Camila scolds sharply, her eyes dark with sadness, yet lit with anger. "If they didn't want you here, if we didn't want you here, if someone thought that you couldn't do it, that you didn't belong in this freak show, someone would have told you by now," she snaps. Then her anger quickly dissipates, leaving hurt in the eyes of your best friend. "Do you really think I would let anyone screw you over?" Camila asks, in little over a whisper.

Your heart sinks. The resentful words that had you had fired were in no way, shape, or form, directed at her. You open your mouth to tell her no, never in a million years would she allow that. You want to tell her that your trust her with all of your heart and more, you need to make sure she knows that you don't blame her for anything, ever. But she went on.