YOUR POV
I tried to go to sleep but I didn't like the thought of the girls talking about Taylor to Camila without me there. I know what they would say and they wouldn't hold back any punches.
I laid there for about fifteen minutes, contemplating whether I should get up and go over there or not, while softly rubbing my palm over the coarse stitches indented into my skin.
Fuck it. I hopped out of my bunk weakly, grabbed my phone, and struggled to leave the bus. I checked to see if the coast was clear outside of my bus before exiting completely.
"Y/N, we love you!" As well as other copious screams and phrases from fans behind a gate were yelled out to me at the back of the venue by fans.
"I love you, too." I waved back with a fake smile before slowly trekking to the girls bus.
I put in the four digit combination and pulled the door open. I clutched the rail with all my might to help me get up the steps but when I was inside I noticed no one else was.
Just as I was about to leave and go into the venue to find the girls, I heard a clutter in the back followed by my wife sharply inhaling the word "Fuck."
"Camila! Where are you?" I yelled out to hear shuffling and rummaging in the bathroom. I slowly inched my way to the door and knocked lightly, "Babe are you okay?"
"Y-yeah. I'm fine." She replied, slightly sniffling.
"Open the door." I ordered her.
"N-no." She pleaded, "Just give me a few minutes."
"Open the fucking door, Camila. I can hear you crying." I admitted, knocking a little louder.
"I said give me a few fucking minutes." She bit back at me.
I pulled on the knob to feel it get stuck which only meant she had it locked. I walked over to Dinah's bunk to grab a pen and paper clip from her journal before going back over to the bathroom door.
I was a pro at opening the bathroom door like this by now because the girls would always accidentally lock themselves out of the bathroom. Don't ask me how. They're kinda special sometimes.
A few jiggles of the lock after putting the pen and paperclip into the gears and it unlocked.
I pushed the door open to see Camila with a bloody hand, trying to wash it off in the sink.
My eyes almost bulged out of my head as I saw a little blood drip down her thigh.
"What did you do?" I asked her calmly, almost feeling a pit of anger bubble into the darkest depths of my stomach.
Camila teared up even more, "I just- I wanted to see why you did it." The tears streamed down her flushed face as my eyes scanned the room to see one of my small razors on the cabinet. I grabbed the razor and Camila's wrist to take them both out of the bathroom.
"Show me." I demanded like she had always done to me. I needed to see the damage I had influenced onto her.
Cam's bottom lip trembled as she pulled up her sports shorts to show me the two cuts that she had made onto her upper thigh.
I had to look away. It's been forever since I've even seen her bleed or be injured in any way so now seeing this is hurting me even worse than before.
I pulled my hand off of her and walked away with the razor clutched in my fist. I didn't know what to say or how I would even say it.
She wasn't bluffing. She really was going to hurt herself as much as I hurt myself.
I walked out of the bus with a blurred mind. I couldn't think properly. It was like the world was at an ultimate standstill in my head. I needed to get away. I needed to stop all of this once and for all.
"Babe, please!" I heard Camila yell out to me as I walked into my bus to lock the door behind me.
Karla knocked loudly on my door as I went to my bunk to throw the razor in the trash by the table and get my phone from the mess of covers.
I needed to talk to Demi. All of this had to end now.
"Babe. Open the door. I need to talk to you." Camila begged shamelessly from outside the bus.
I just ignored her and typed on the screen quickly
Y/N: Dems, I really really really need your help.
Dems: ok honey. anything.
Y/N: I want to stop all of this. now. something happened and I don't want it to happen ever again. I'm just not worth any of this.
Dems: calm down sweetie and tell me what happened.
Y/N: I cut again and this time it was too deep so I had to get stitches. -- do you remember at my house in Houston when Camila she'd hurt herself if I hurt myself?
Dems: shit. I'll be there v soon. Please just stay calm.
Y/N: okay
Now multiple knocks hit my bus door as I walked over to my spare bunk to grab two Percs and swallow them down just to cool my nerves. I didn't know how to handle all of this. I wanted help now. I wanted to be better. Just in the sense of my addictions.
"Y/N! Open the fucking door." Lauren yelled before fiddling with the handle. "Did you change the fucking code?"
I didn't answer them. I just crawled into my bunk and pulled out my head phones from the velvet pouch by the outlet to plug them into my phone so I could relax to the sounds of anything but Fifth Harmony.
I've loved running away from my problems since day one and this is the first time I've been able to do it in a while.
Their banging got quieter as I turned the volume up all the way to relax to my perfect playlist that I kept away from all of the girls. It was filled with songs and artists I'd never let them know I listen to because I like to keep these to myself. They're the ones I want to hear when nothing else is worth listening to, and if they knew about them they'd play it over and over again, which causes me to hate the wonderful works of art.
I stared up at the ceiling of the bunk and calmly let the drugs wash over me with the comforting effects.
That's what hurt the most about all of this. I liked the feelings these things give me. I don't have an issue with it but everyone else does. I like that it's an effect that I never grew up with. It's a warm, happy emotion that stays with me until it drifts away. And with the more I take, the more I'm able to feel this way.
I don't see why people couldn't leave well enough alone and just let me stick to one aesthetic feeling rather than making me search for a new one.
But then again I see why they care so much. They see that I'm hurting and want to help. I love them for that. I really do. I just feel like this is the one thing I've ever asked for and I hate that I have to turn my whole life around just to make them happy and at peace.
I decided to not let it bother me any further until Demi got here and I could talk to her, and her only, about what should happen next.
And if that meant getting help for these addictions. Then I'll get help.
Only because I don't want to see how much further Camila or the other girls would take this.
+
a/n:
I have such a beautiful plan for the end of this book. I thought about it in the shower and it came together. YAY FOR POSITIVE BRAINSTORMING!
-agf