Trigger Warning: Mention and attempted suicide
Don't read if you don't like
~×~×~×~×
Standing on the roof of a twenty-story building is a lot scarier than the movies make it look.
At least, that’s what Normani thinks. She’s staring downwards, her eyes caught on individual people milling about below her. They don’t notice her. She’s too far up, tucked away from the common person’s view. Nobody would think to look up. Not a single soul would think twice that there might be someone up there. Why would they, anyway?
Well. She had.
Normani hasn’t even realized just how bad things were until that morning. That’s the worst pain. The pain that you can’t feel until it’s too late. She’s become so used to it, so used to hiding it away, it’s a part of her now. She wants to thrust a knife inside her and cut that part out, and this was the easiest way to do that.
She hopes.
Her phone rings in her back pocket. Had she forgotten to get rid of it? She doesn’t want it anymore. She doesn’t want to talk. That’s what’s going to go first, she decides. Slowly, her numb fingers wrap around the phone and she pulls it out, ready to throw it off, even though it’s ringing. But she takes one look at it -
It’s Camila. She stops and answers the phone.
*'*'*
Two years ago, Normani was walking down the street, her hands in her pocket. Wisps of her breath stretched out in front of her and she hurried down the street, trying to escape the cold. The sun was shining behind her, but it was still so cold. Maybe it was just her. That would expain a lot of things.
She didn’t know why she looked up, honestly. But she did. Maybe she wanted to check that the sun actually was in the sky and that she wasn’t going to die because of some sort of cold-apocalypse. But she looked up all the same.
Someone was standing on the roof of the building beside her. Normani could barely make out their silhouette, but someone was definitely up there. Normani would’ve had to be an idiot not to realize what they were doing. She’d seriously considered it multiple times, herself.
But she couldn’t watch someone else do it. How ironic.
She ran into the building, muttering curses under her breath every time she was forced to stop running. She bounded up the stairs, trying to find a roof exit, until she found one that was propped open. Not sure what to say, or what to do, she ran out onto the roof - it was much colder up there - and yelled, “Stop! Wait! Don’t!”
Her scanning eyes found a girl standing at the very edge of the roof, her arms spread wide, preparing to take the plunge. At Normani’s call, her muscles froze and she turned and well fuck, she was gorgeous. Her brown eyes seemed to radiate life and her hair flowed perfectly around her shoulders. She was perfect. But Normani could see something else in her expression - pain. It was a familiar feeling.
"Just, please," Normani panted, still trying to catch her breath, "Move away from the edge."
‘“I can’t,” the girl whispered quietly. She’d been crying, that much Normani could tell.
"Yes, you can," Normani promised. "You’re find. Just come here, and step away from the edge."
"I’m done," the girl countered. "You can’t change my mind. I don’t even know you."
"You’re never done. Not until the grave takes you. And that’s something you don’t get to choose." Normani honestly wasn’t sure why she was saying what she was saying. She’d tried to end it so many times. She didn’t even take her own advice. Was there a small part of her that believed those words?
No. She would’ve noticed it by then.
"I don’t have anything to live for."
"I want you to live. So now you do." Normani took a small step forwards. She didn’t move. "What’s your name?"
"Camila. Camila Cabello."
"Nice to meet you, Camila." Normani’s eyes shot to Camila’s feet, realizing just how close they were to the edge still. "Can you please step away from the edge?"
Camila slowly took a couple steps forwards, towards Normani, and Normani felt herself relax slightly, but she still had a job to do. Camila looked so small and - she was crying. No, that wouldn’t do. Normani covered the distance between them and wrapped her in her arms, carefully making sure not to alarm her, but Camila seemed to crave the contact.
Camila’s voice was weak, and wrecked with tears, but she mumbled into Normani’s neck, “I don’t know who you are. Why are you helping me?”
"My name is Normani Hamilton," Normani whispered, clutching Camila tightly, "And I’m helping you because I care."
*'*'*'
"Mani? Where are you? I can’t find you anywhere. I checked your apartment, but you’re not there." Normani doesn’t answer. She just lets Camila’s soft voice fill her, sew some broken parts together, but it’s not enough, it’s never enough.
"Mani?" Camila asks again, a hint of worry echoing in her voice. "Normani, please answer me."
Normani considers not answering. But she can’t, and she’s not sure why, after all this time. “Camila,” is all she manages. Her name fits nicely around Normani’s tongue.
"Normani, please tell me where you are."
Camila’s serious now. Normani doesn’t like that. Has she done that? “I’m sorry.”
"Please," Camila says, drawing out the word. Normani swallows. Her throat feels too dry.
"I’m just sorry, Camz," she says raspily. "That’s all. I’m sorry that we couldn’t be more."
"Couldn’t? What? What are you saying? Dammit, Normani-"
Camila’s voice catches suddenly and shit, Normani realizes, she knows where Normani is. “Don’t move,” Camila’s voice says, but Normani’s not really hearing it. “Just don’t move. Please. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Normani can’t do it anymore. “Goodbye, Camila.” She doesn’t wait for a reply. Normani hangs up the phone and throws it off the roof, watching it spiral downwards and smash to pieces on the concrete below. Nobody saw the phone drop. Nobody sees it happen, and still, nobody sees Normani.
The cold wind bites Normani’s wrist and she feels her fresh cut sting. She hasn’t properly treated it. It’s still open, like she was trying to make the pain leave the hard way. She made that cut this morning before she realized that cutting wasn’t going to do it anymore.
For so long, Camila had relied on her to be a rock. And Normani is. She’s always been that, waking up at three in the morning just to let Camila vent, about her family, her ex, her depression. And Normani always solved the problem. She always knew what to say.
And as hard as she wants to talk to Camila about Normani’s depression and Normani's self-harm and Normani’s feelings, Normani doesn’t. Because that will hurt Camila. She’s the strong one. She just wants Camila to be happy because she’s beautiful when she is. She hates how the world is cruel to Camila and Normani can’t be cruel like that. So she doesn’t talk. She never has, not once.
Look where that’s got her.
At least Camila doesn’t have the pain of being hopelessly in love with her best friend.
*~*~*~
One year ago, Normani made one cut, and then another, and then a third before she stopped because Camila was calling and Camila was more important than Normani would ever be. She pressed something white (the nearest thing she could find) to her wrist and answered the call, like she always did.
"Normani," Camila whispered, "I…I’m, like, going out with someone?"
Normani didn’t feel happy like she should’ve. But she was a good actress at that point. “That’s great. What’s their name?”
"Her name is Lauren, and she’s…she’s really beautiful and I feel really happy around her. She makes me feel okay again."
Was Normani not doing a good enough job at that? Apparently not. “I’m really happy for you, Camz. I knew you’d meet someone.”
"I have to go meet her," Camila apologized, "But I just wanted to tell you, and thank you for being there."
"Of course," Normani replied, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming, screaming out all the pain and everything she’d held inside. "Have a good date."
Normani hung up and flung the phone across the room but it didn’t break as much as she wanted it to. Finally letting a sob escape her lips, she stumbled back and found the razor in her hand and she cut again and again before her knees gave way and her head was hitting the counter and she wished she was brave enough to end it because she was never enough.
Never enough for Camila.
She and Lauren broke up three months later, and Normani was there to help Camila through the break-up.
As much as she wanted to, Normani never told her about her own pain.
*~*~*~
"Normani! No, stop!"
Well, shit. Normani’s been lost in her own thoughts and recollections that she hasn’t even realized Camila’s had enough time to get there. “I said goodbye,” Normani whispers, because this isn’t a dramatic soap opera anymore. This is real life and she’s not going to change her mind but -
"So all that stuff you said to me - you didn’t actually mean it?"
Normani stops then because…well, she definitely wasn’t expecting that. She turns her neck just so she can see Camila and the girl’s not crying. Her eyes are filled with pain and she keeps swallowing nervously but she’s not crying. She’s being strong for Normani.
Even after vowing never to do it, Normani realizes that yeah, she’s just told Camila everything by coming out here in the first place, and now Camila feels all that pain and shit. Her plan never really worked in the first place.
She’s such an idiot.
"I meant it for you," Normani finds herself saying, turning away from Camila and back to the street. She can’t look at her beauty for too long, not now.
"You think you don’t matter? Is that it? After everything you told me? Why didn’t you talk to me?"
"No," Normani agrees, "You’re right. I don’t matter. You do."
"You do matter, Normani."
"No, I don’t."
There’s silence for only a second before Normani hears Camila start moving towards Normani and no, please stay away, she thinks, but suddenly Camila’s beside her, just as close to the edge as Normani is, so close her toes flex around the corner of the roof. “What are you doing?” Normani whispers in shock. Her voice won’t let her speak any louder.
"You do matter, Normani," Camila insists, her bright eyes staring into Normani’s soul. "You matter just as much as I do. You go, I go, too."
"You’re blackmailing me."
"No, I’m showing you how much you matter to me, because this is the only way you’ll listen.”
She’s right, Normani realizes. Camila’s always been right.
"Fuck," Normani sighs as she slowly moves a couple steps back. Camila takes those gentle steps with her. "Don’t do that.”
Camila’s shaking her head and now the tears are pooling out of her eyes and shit, Normani’s crying too. She hasn’t cried for months now and it surprises both of them because Normani’s never, ever let Camila see her cry.
Camila’s coming forwards then, pulling Normani into her. “Why did you do that?” Normani chokes out.
Camila’s fingers play with Normani’s hair and Normani shuts her eyes. “Well, guess what, Mani,” Camila says softly, “I care about you, too.”
Suddenly, it doesn’t feel so cold.