There's a reporter clawing at her mind, hoping to find something just sweet enough to sell to their boss. Camila tries to glorify the little exciting things she actually participates in. She's leaning against Ally, because she's so sweet and little and southern, that it kind of makes it hard not to, literally and figuratively.
Then there's the divalicious Normani, who can make any situation a lot more dramatic than it really is. And that's why Camila loves her. A little more drama never hurt anyone. Except for like, Lindsey Lohan or something.
It really hurt her.
Like, seriously, she needs help.
She really loves Normani, which is why she's conveying it with an arm swung around her shoulders. The reporter nods along to what she's saying, seeming truly immersed in her story.
Camila is done speaking, having had enough of Dinah's silent but deadly right eyebrow. That thing is wicked scary. Almost as scary as Lauren's own daring eyebrow. Speaking of Lauren.
She's in a neutral mood, Camila deduces. Those sweet red lips unmoving as she nods along to what Dinah is saying. Camila can't help but feel a compulsion to correct her. The show face Simon had taught them still fresh in her mind.
"Eyes wide, smile wider, brows high, and -" He pressed Dinah's chin, raising it higher.
"Chin up." They had all mocked the lesson later that night, even though they still participate in the expression knowing how crucial it was - to Simon at least.
Camila wants to whisper in her ear, to feel that nearness, to correct her before the scolding. But she can't. It will just cause a scene to move, ruining a whisper's subtley. And she doesn't want to seem all touchy. That isn't right. She was the best friend. She will comply with Lauren's request.
So instead, she averts her attention to Dinah, saying something about high pitched voices and naps.
Wait, is she talking about Camila?
Oh, no, no, no, Hunty. No.
"And it's like, I'm trying to get some beauty sleep here!" Camila easily retorts, smoothly turning to Ally soon after.
"Gurl, please. You don't hear me complaining when you're talking to your 'cousin' late at night. Ally, hold my bow." She jokingly reaches upward, pulling off her bow and shoving it at her smaller companions chest.
Dinah grins quickly, keeping up the facade.
"Oooh, it's about to go down." She turns to Lauren as she pretends to take off her earrings. Camila isn't envious at all. No way. Nope.
"Boo, protect my earrings. They be costin' me ninety-nine cents." The reporter smirks at the cameraman, laughing lavishingly and complimenting the girls on their humor. Simon will later tell them the interview was a success. Absolutely brilliant. He thankfully hadn't noticed Lauren's indifferent expression.
A true success, gaining them fans. Fans who would vote for them, advancing them further into the competition. Camila smiles at the retreating cameras, happy to have helped their chances of winning and her estranged best friend.
Later, when the hype of the interview is gone and everyone is settled in their rooms, Camila speaks up.
"I think I should switch rooms with Dinah." This, of course, causes an uproar. Duh, she was awesome.
"Gurl, you crazy." Normani.
"Is this about my sleep talking? I told you I'm getting help!" Kind, southern Ally. Lauren remains silent, feeling like she's lost the right to argue.
"I am crazy, and Ally, this isn't about you. I just feel like it's unfair that Dinah should have to chill without the group." The questions stop, everyone feeling thoroughly chastised. It is partially true. Though, it's more the temptation. The temptation to fix the gap that has somehow swallowed any and all conversations between them. The gap that makes it hard to even look Lauren in her beautiful, beautiful, eyes anymore. She can't let that happen. She can't revert back to the old, clingy, touchy, needy Camila that starved for that sweet throb in her chest. She can't. For Lauren, only for her would she stay away.
The next day, Camila packs her things. Her photos, sheets, and pillows, prepped up in her massive suitcase. She's halfway through, jamming out to the Demi Lovato song blasting away in her earbuds. She's forgotten her worries for the first time since parting from the Lauren Train. Forgetting her anxiety, her nail biting, Simon's stare, Demi's frown, Britney's unforgiving look of indifference. She forgets that she's even scared of not winning. She forgets that she doesn't have Lauren to comfort her for these same worries.
Camilla is so lost in her freedom, that she doesn't notice Lauren creeping up from behind. Until her buds are yanked out.
Like, that's just rude.
"Hey, it was getting to the best part! Where she's all like, 'heart attack' except she like, drags it out all high." She turns around to further scold the offender, but stops, realizing who commited the crime.
Besties don't deprive eachother of fine music. Girl code.
"Lauren? Seriously, uncool. Demi is frowning at you. All five different versions of her. Even the Barney one." She doesn't say anything more, because Lauren has her eyebrow up, the left one. That's never a good sign. It means she's being serious. Gross.
"It was either that or ambushing you in the shower, which I think would be really awkward for both of us."
"Point taken." She's trying to be nonchalant, because it's just Lauren.
Totally, no big deal.
"I was just thinking that maybe you shouldn't switch rooms."
"Oh? And why not?" Because Camila could give fifty reasons, all starting with L.
"Because I would miss you." And there goes her heart, pounding against its cage, yearning to connect with Lauren's own. Platonically, of course.
"Is that all?"
"A lot?" She sighs, sitting down on her bed, patting the spot next to her. So naturally, Camila sits down. She speaks gently, just as Lauren did before. Just as heartbreakingly as before.
"I think I might be in love with you." She couldn't look up, to see those green eyes full of disgust. A beat, a creak, and a thump later, Lauren was gone. Then Camila did what any self-respecting teen did. She curled up into a ball and cried.
She could pretend that everything was okay because she's been pretending this whole time. Pretending Lauren would ever put her first. She could win an Oscar. But she wants a Grammy more. Which is why she's at practice, to work it all out. Twerk it all out.
Had she ever mentioned that she was awesome at twerking?
Dinah's the only one in with her, cheering her twerk skills on. The other's are still getting "fabulous" or whatever. Camila could relate. You can't look this sexy without some effort. Then in walks Lauren.
She kinda doesn't want to twerk anymore. Or breath, or blink, or live. So she stops. Twerking, at least.
"Aw, why'd you stop?" Dinah pouts, walking away to bother Ally.
Just pretend Lauren isn't here. She's cool. She's fine. But who's she trying to convince?
"Camila, I'm sorry. Really." Oh, kewl. That makes everything so much better. That makes rejection so much better. But the earnest look in Lauren's eyes puts a little band aid on the pain.
"You shouldn't be sorry. Let's just forget about it."
"Is that what you really want?" Duh it was. She just wants to make it out of the competition a winner. No time set aside for romances. None at all. Nope, The Notebook was a stupid movie. She didn't need a Ryan Gosling. Or a Rachel McAdams. Yeah. Totally not.
"We don't have much of a choice, Lauren. It's whatever." It's an early dismissal, much too brash for Camila's taste. But with haste sooner comes the results, and she is aiming to win the X factor, not rekindle a one-way relationship. Eyes on the prize, Karla.
"It's whatever? That's what your feelings are? Whatever?"
"Well, yeah. They don't, like, last forever all the time."
"And what if yours do?" She pauses. What if they do? No, just give it some time alone and she would be fine. Definitely fine.
"Trust me, they won't." Camila tries to wander away, then there's a hand on her shoulder.
"That's it then? You're just going to keep ignoring me?"
"Yeah, pretty much." The hand on her shoulder squeezes tighter, and then there's this weird flutter in her stomach, and her heart is beating so hard against her chest that it's hurting and - she hates it. Loathes everything about it.
"No, that isn't how you fix things Camz. You have to deal with stuff head on. Like a Kardashian." Pause.
"Did you really just say that?"
"Okay, don't hate. Kim is richer than all of us combined."
"Not that, you shmuck." A gasp.
"I didn't know you were Jewish."
"Okay, wow. Gotta go." Lauren doesn't pursue her further, seemingly focused on Camila's possible Jewish heritage.