We quickly became acquainted to life in LA and got accustomed to the time zone after five days of jet lag. Everything was just as it had been during our X Factor days- we spent all day long together, talking about our music and our plans for the year until we all separated into our rooms at night. Nothing was too stressful, but we remained busy.
Four days after our arrival we were set to begin writing our first song at Epic Records in Beverly Hills. We sat anxiously in the shuttle as we pulled up outside the studio. Lauren gripped my hand as we got out and made our way onto the sidewalk.
"Do we just...go in?" Dinah wondered.
"Well we're never going to make any progress if we stand out here all day," Lauren decided, pushing past the group and through the front doors.
We met the receptionist at the desk and she showed us to the back of the building where the actual studio was located.
"Girls! So nice to see you again," L.A. greeted as the receptionist shut the door behind us. "Welcome to Epic."
I looked around at the dimly lit studio- the black walls, the padded booth, the array of different records and instruments. It was a whole new world.
"So...as you already know, you will never get anywhere as a musical group without music," L.A. started, clapping his hands together in front of him and leading us through the studio. "We need to get to work on a song, but before we can write a song, we have to have a basic idea. Any thoughts?"
"What about a love song?" Normani suggested.
"Too cliche," Lauren argued, shaking her head and attempting to think of a concept of her own.
"What about, like, a girl empowerment song?" she continued. "I mean...that's what we're trying to embody, right? We want to inspire girls to believe in themselves. I think our first song should show who we are."
L.A. narrowed his eyes and studied Lauren, thinking about the idea while he scratched his chin with his pointer finger.
"I like it," he agreed finally. "But now that we have a basic idea, we need to get down to the details. What's the background, the plot line?"
"What about a song about moving on?" I thought aloud. "It could be about a breakup or any kind of hardship that a girl's going through, and she can listen to it and know to stay strong and believe in herself no matter what."
All of the girls nodded in agreement and L.A. took out his phone.
"I'm going to give the producers and writers a call and we'll get to work," he informed us.
"That's it?" Ally asked. "We're just jumping right into it?"
L.A. stepped outside before he could fully hear Ally's question and left us in the studio, dumbfounded by his quick acceptance to our ideas.
He came back in moments later, flanked by two younger men who both carried laptops.
"Let's get to work," he said.
...
We wrote for hours, thinking of the best lyrics that we could and revising them even after we were sure we had written a hit. We worked together as a group, but I could tell something was wrong with Lauren. She glanced down at her phone every once in a while, evidentially frustrated about something, but she easily put it behind her and immediately got back to work. Four hours after our arrival, we hadn't even finished the first half of the song, but we were making progress. It was tedious but it was worth it. Lauren pulled me aside as we were leaving the building, watching the other girls walk ahead until we were out of earshot.
"Can we go somewhere?" she asked me, her voice hushed even though we were alone. "I need to talk to you."
I nodded and followed her down the street, staying behind her in case I had done something wrong. She didn't speak to me until we arrived at a small coffee shop on the corner and she led me inside, finding a table for two in the very back of the building.
"Are you getting anything?" she asked flatly.
I shook my head no.
"Look, Camz, I need to talk to you about something that's been bothering me since day one," she continued, fidgeting with the sugar container.
"Did I do something?" I worried.
"No...not really. Not intentionally," she answered.
I wondered what could have possibly been eating at the back of her mind for the past two months that was too hard for her to tell me about to begin with. Unintentionally or not, I had caused her some sort of grief, and it pained me to think about what I could have possibly done.
"This is probably going to sound really stupid," she sighed. "I should expect it but it's hard for me to accept so just hear me out, okay?"
I bit down on my bottom lip nervously, waiting for her to continue.
"First of all, I need to know if you...you know...if you like girls, like, for real," she said.
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair. "Is this about your sexuality? We already decided that we weren't going to label ourselves."
"But other people are labeling me," she defended. "Do you have any idea how much shit I've gotten over the past few weeks for dating a girl? They treat me like I'm not even human, or the ones who are okay with it try to force me into being a lesbian and only a lesbian."
"How are people giving you any kind of shit at all if we haven't even officially come out?" I snapped. "You've tried so hard to keep it a secret all this time. I haven't gotten any shit for it."
"Because of Michael."
"What does Michael have to do with it?" I nearly shouted. "I haven't talked to him in weeks, Lauren."
"But people like the idea of you two together. You and Michael. A girl and a guy. Nothing wrong with that, right?" she explained.
"Have you even seen how many people want us together? Practically our entire fan base is begging us to date," I reminded her.
She shook her head and leaned forward against the table, realizing the conversation had gone off track, "I need you to know that I'm not gay, okay? I'm in love with you, but I'm not gay, and I'm worried that if maybe you are, you'll expect more from me than I can actually give you."
"Lauren, it doesn't matter if I'm gay or not. I'm not going to date anyone besides you, okay? So it doesn't make a difference if I like girls or guys or both. It doesn't matter," I huffed. "And I'm sorry people are giving you shit, but what the hell does that have to do with me? Nobody even knows that we're dating besides our friends and family. The things that people outside of our circle say...none of it matters. They're just words. So please, tell me the real reason that you brought me all the way to this coffee shop to sit here, not even drink any coffee, and talk about our sexuality."
She buried her face in her hands and rubbed her temples, evidentially defeated.
"I can't do it Camz," she whispered. "I can't be in love with you and have people tell me it's wrong. It fucking hurts and I don't want to hear it, and I'm worried that the more I hear..."
"You're worried they'll come between us," I realized.
She nodded and wiped at the corner of her eye as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I love you, Camz. The idea of losing you absolutely kills me, but I can feel all the pressure building up inside me and I don't know how much more I can take. I can't listen to people tell me that loving you is wrong, whether they know that I really do or not, and I can't listen to people try and label me to fit one stereotype."
"Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?" I asked soothingly, reaching across the table and taking her hand in my own. "You could have talked it out instead of keeping it bottled up inside."
I heard quiet snickers coming from the table next to us and turned to find two younger girls staring at Lauren's hand tucked away in mine. They looked away when our eyes met, but their whispers lingered long after they had been caught.
"See what I mean?" Lauren chuckled sarcastically. "I'm tired of feeling like being in love with you is a crime."
"Fuck them," I hissed, releasing Lauren's hand and standing from my chair. "Fuck them and fuck anyone who tries to tell you how to live your life, because I know you, Lauren, and I know that you do not take shit off of anyone. This isn't like you. You're letting all these people that you don't even know get to you, and I don't understand why. Who cares if you're in love with me. I mean, I do obviously, but who cares what anyone else thinks about it?"
"It just seems like no matter what I do, people are on my back for it," she shared.
"So don't listen to them. Shut them out. Focus on what makes you happy, okay?"
She looked up at me and smiled, curling up one side of her mouth and then the other until her grin reached from ear to ear and her cheeks blushed red. "You make me happy."
I held my hand out for her to hold and helped her up, staring directly into her green eyes.
"Then don't let anyone tell you otherwise," I prompted.
"You're right," she decided finally, shaking her head in embarrassment. "I'm stupid. I shouldn't have listened to them."
"I know it's hard to ignore when it's constantly in your face," I told her. "Now can we please go be in love and annoy the hell out of anyone who doesn't like it?"
She took a deep breath in and smiled, exhaling all of her negative thoughts as we exited the coffee shop and made our way back to the apartment.
...
Lauren joined me on the couch as I flipped through channels, searching for a movie to watch. She snuggled up between my body and the back cushion, pulling me as close to her as possible and draping her arm over my torso.
"You're beautiful," she whispered into my ear, sending chills throughout my whole body.
I looked down at my choice of clothing- a pair of boy shorts and an oversized sweater- and thought about my messy hair and lack of makeup, raising my eyebrow at her as if to say, "Are you serious?"
She sighed and nestled her chin into the crook of my neck. "I'm still waiting for the day that you believe me when I tell you that."
"I hope you don't mind waiting for the rest of your life," I joked.
"I don't," she mumbled against my skin.
I turned on Dear John and placed the remote on the coffee table, using my now free hand to play absentmindedly with Lauren's fingers.
"I've never liked romantic movies," she informed me.
"Why am I not surprised?" I laughed.
"I mean, I don't mind them, it's just that they're a load of bullshit."
I repositioned my head so that I could look up at her as she spoke, studying her lips while her eyes remained trained on the television.
"Love doesn't happen that way. It's not all rainbows and butterflies, and there's never just one big heart breaking climax that's solved with some master plan and a John Mayer song. It's up and down, and that's the way it should be," she continued. "It wouldn't be very exciting if it didn't have some plot twists every now and then."
"Yeah, but that's the point of romantic movies," I argued. "They would be annoying if they were constantly up and down."
"That's how love is supposed to feel though. It's supposed to drive you crazy."
She looked down at me with her piercing green eyes and smiled.
"You drive me crazy," she added. "But in the best way possible."
She pressed her lips against mine, lingering there momentarily and pulling away with a smile on her face.
"The feeling is mutual," I teased.
Dinah groaned as she walked down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to grab her drink and then joining us in the living room.
"You guys are gross," she said.
"Your mom's gross," I retorted.
"Oooh, good one, where'd you learn that one from, a third grader?" Dinah retaliated.
"You're both idiots," Lauren chuckled.
Dinah took a sip of her drink and sat it on the coffee table, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm just saying, I'd like to be able to watch a movie in my own living room without walking in on you two practically have sex."
"Dinah, we've literally been laying here cuddling since we got home," I reminded her.
"If this is what your sex life is like you should probably find a new boyfriend," Lauren teased.
"I don't have a sex life," Dinah countered playfully. "Because I'm fifteen and I'd like to preserve my innocence."
Lauren rolled her eyes and continued watching the movie. We were all silent until the next commercial when Dinah decided to continue the previous topic.
"Okay, so, as the captain of the S.S. Camren, I must know, have you guys...you know..." she trailed off, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
"DINAH," I exclaimed. "Let's not."
"Oh, come on. This is vital information, and as your best friend, I expect you to tell me everything," she pressed.
"Five minutes ago you were calling us gross and now you want to know what we do when we're alone?" Lauren asked her.
"AHA!" Dinah shouted. "So you have!"
"Once or twice," Lauren sighed, rolling her eyes. "Big deal."
"Twice? Now that's just too far," Dinah joked. "You guys are still gross."
"You asked," I shrugged.
"What's it like?" she continued.
"Dinah, now you're the one being gross," I laughed.
"I'm just curious. It's kind of interesting," she defended.
"If you're so interested," Lauren smirked. "Wait five minutes and maybe you'll get a sneak preview."
"EW," Dinah yelled, getting up from her chair and walking towards the stairs. "No thanks."
Lauren snuggled back up to me and I rolled over so that we were face to face. She ran her thumb over my cheek and kissed the tip of my nose, causing me to crinkle it in response which elicited a light chuckle from her.
"You're so cute," she smiled.
"You just feel obligated to say that because you're my girlfriend," I teased.
She leaned back slightly and bit down thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
"Say that again," she demanded.
"You're my girlfriend," I repeated.
Her smile would not leave her face, but I had a feeling she didn't want it to, and neither did I. I wanted to be the reason she smiled after a long day. I wanted to see her full lips stretch into the grin that she wore when she laughed about nothing in particular. I loved seeing her happy, and being the reason behind it was more than I could have ever asked for.
She leaned in until the tip of her nose brushed against mine and I could feel the heat radiating off of her skin. I swallowed hard, trying to contain myself as she inched closer and closer. Even after two months, I still hadn't gotten tired of her kiss. It still sent chills down my spine and made my heart beat out of my chest.
"I like the sound of that," she whispered against my lips.
She kissed me gently, pulling back and smiling at me when she was finished, but I wasn't done. I craved the taste of her, and I pulled her lips back against mine, our mouths molding together in unison.
"Can we go to the bedroom?" I exhaled.
She nodded and pulled me off the couch, leading me upstairs with our fingers interlocked. I admired her as she walked- her messy hair and the way it fell when she ran her hand through it and how she was still so beautiful in just a tank and sweatpants. She was more than beautiful. She had changed in the two weeks that we were apart. She seemed edgier and more honest with herself and me, like she had said goodbye to the part of her that held her back from speaking her mind. It gave her a sort of bad-girl vibe, but I wasn't quite sure why. She looked adorable- not like a bad girl at all- in her pajamas, but the way her curves looked in those loose-fitting pants and tank made her look nothing less than sexy. Not the kind of classic, Victoria's Secret sexy. She was the kind of sexy that one comes home to at the end of the day, her makeup a mess and her hair all over the place, the kind that looked great in sweats because they seemed so easy to take off. She was effortlessly perfect, and everything about her made me crave her more and more.
We fell onto the bed that we had neglected to make up earlier in the day and soon became tangled in the sheets, rolling around and goofing off more than anything. The only light in the room came from a small lamp on the dresser, and it was just bright enough for me to see the contours of her stomach muscles when she laughed underneath me, laying there in nothing but her bra and sweatpants, toying absentmindedly with my fingers while I sat with my legs on either side of her.
"We're a mess," she chuckled, suddenly shifting her weight and causing me to roll off of her.
She leaned over so that she was half on top of me, drawing circles around my abdomen with her index finger.
"We're not that bad," I countered.
"Oh come on, look at us. Twenty minutes ago we were trying to take each other's clothes off and now we can't stop laughing," she recalled. "We're a mess."
"I think that we're just too in love to think straight at this point. It's making us delerious," I suggested.
"Yeah," she agreed, her eyes on me but her mind on my lips. "That's probably it."
She kissed me, our lips separating only to reconnect until we were both out of breath.
"Oh," she remembered. "I wanted to show you something."
She crawled out of bed and rummaged through her bag while I propped up on my elbows and watched her, curious as to what she was searching for. She pulled out a large notebook and threw it on the comforter, following after it and situating herself next to me.
"Is this your journal?" I asked her.
She nodded and flipped to a page that was already marked, shoving the book in my direction when she found what she was looking for. A paper airplane was taped to the page, pressed flat by the heavy cover on the book. All of the pictures that we had taken together were glued to the opposite page which was titled, "Camren."
"Unfold it," she instructed, pointing to the paper airplane.
I did as she said and unfolded the plane, revealing the note that I had written to her over Christmas break after we had snuck out together.
"You kept this?" I wondered, a smile forming on my lips.
"Yeah. From here on out this journal is dedicated only to our memories," she told me.
"Are you sure? That's kind of a big commitment to make," I joked.
"Well, I used to write down my thoughts in it, but after a while I realized I was just using it to vent," she explained, ignoring my attempted humor. "It became a negative thing instead of a positive one, but I found that recently, I don't really have anything to vent about. Number one because I have you to talk to, and number two because every day that I spend with you is a great one no matter what happens. So I decided to write down our memories instead. Those are always wonderful."
"Wow," I sighed, flipping through the remaining pages and finding first-hand accounts of every significant memory we had ever made together. "This is incredible. You like me enough to keep a written copy of our time together?"
"Yes Camz, I do," she laughed. "I like you that much."
I placed my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her lips into mine as a silent "thank you."
"Um...if you don't mind," I stammered, "your sincerity is kind of turning me on. Maybe we could finally get around to what we originally came up here to do..."
"Ah," she said, crawling out of bed once again and turning on her laptop. "I have just the thing to set the mood."
She put the mixtape I made her into the laptop and pressed play, letting John Mayer's Love is a Verb fill the room. She flipped off the lamp and returned to the bed, only visible because of the sparkle in her emerald eyes. She crawled on top of me and kissed me once, then again behind my ear and again on my jawbone.
"Can I ask you something?" she mumbled against my neck, sliding back up to my face and looking me dead in the eye.
"Anything," I whispered.
"Do you believe in true love? Like...fate? That two people are made for each other and they're destined to fall in love no matter what?"
I wrapped my arms around her neck and traced up and down her spine with my fingertips, kissing her before answering her question. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"
She smiled against my lips and brought her hand up to cup my face, sliding the other one down to my thigh and wrapping my leg around her waist.
"I'm so in love with you," she told me. "I have no problem admitting it. You got me, Camila Cabello."
Our lips met once again and we melted into each other, the sound of the mixtape filling the air. We were skin against skin, hand in hand, chest to chest, and as we made love I knew...
She thought I had gotten her, reeled her in with whatever charm she thought I possessed, but it was the other way around. She had me head over heels, coming apart, mind buzzing, and undeniably in love with her, and I didn't want it any other way.