up next: we get a little more backstory on Camila and Lauren (and Lauren's former relationship with Normani). trigger warning for eating disorders, homophobia, and very brief mention of blood/gore
as always, if you enjoyed this chapter vote and comment <3 and if you're reading this dumbass story ily
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Camila's first week at House of Hernandez passes in a whirlwind. She's swamped with work, constantly - class, to rehearsal, to performing. It keeps her pleasantly busy in that way she always liked in high school when she participated in so many extracurriculars she barely had time to breathe. Mostly, she likes her life like that, though. She'd get too bored otherwise.
All the girls are bubbly and friendly and talked a whole fucking lot. The only one who seems to be consistently quieter was Normani, and Camila doesn't think that's because she's shy - more likely because she doesn't seem to like Camila all that much. She's seen her a bunch of times bickering playfully with Dinah.
Dinah and Normani seem to be especially close. Camila learns that they're roommates at UCLA, and they promise to invite her over to her dorm sometimes. They also offer to give her rides, but Camila hasn't taken them up on that offer yet. She thinks she will soon. She can't justify spending so much money on Ubers every time she needs to get to House of Hernandez. But Normani makes her nervous, and she's so gorgeous and so intimidating, and Camila usually gets along with everyone but so far she hasn't managed to get on Normani's good side yet. Well, assuming there is one.
Camila and Lauren are basically inseparable during rehearsals. They're always caught giggling with each other or trying to push each other off the stage, and it always ends with lots of eye-rolls and huffs from the other girls. Still, Camila's managed to bond with Dinah somewhere along the way. Ariana, too, because after you sleep with a girl it's hard to go back to being just vague acquaintances, especially when you see said girl every day.
Working at House of Hernandez is hard, but Lucy is kind and fair, helping her through the motions, easing her into the different dances. She seems to be almost endlessly patient. Camila appreciates that a lot. And what Lucy doesn't help her with, Lauren is more than happy to jump in.
"You're gonna be a star," she had said near-solemnly when Camila had asked her about it. "I'm just helping you shine the brightest you can." Then they had cracked up into unstoppable laughter because - could she get any cheesier? But secretly Camila had liked it a lot, had liked the warmth that bloomed in her chest at Lauren's rare moment of serious sincerity.
Camila kept opening every show - it was, for all intents and purposes, her slot now. Lauren had pretended to be mad ("you really are stealing my gig, whore") but she had wrapped Camila in the tightest hug ever after Lucy officially designated her as the opening spot. The girls really were like a family. Honestly, Camila had expected a lot more jealousy, especially since she kind of just wandered in off the street and immediately got a premium performing spot, but the girls were very welcoming and she felt more at home than she had in ages. Sure, she had made friends in her classes, but something about the fast-paced, always-moving nature of their job at House of Hernandez made it so she and the girls had an ever-present drunk-girl-in-the-bathroom kind of relationship: affectionate, sweet, very genuine. Even though she had only known them for a few days they treated each other as comfortably and closely as if they had been friends for years.
Of course, Lauren was the most affectionate, the most sweet, the most genuine. But maybe that was Camila's bias talking.
-
"You like her."
Camila squints at both her and Dinah's reflections in her mirror. She's become very used to her spot in just a few short days - on the very corner right next to Lauren, with Ariana on the other side of the green-eyed girl. Camila's seen other girls put up photos on their mirrors. Lauren has a couple of herself and the rest of the performers, arms wrapped around each other, grinning or making lewd gestures at the camera. Maybe Camila should do that. She needs to find out who has a Polaroid camera - they're always more aesthetically pleasing.
"I like who?" Camila asks, playing dumb. She leans into the vanity, sharpening up her eyeliner with a q-tip. Dinah stands behind her, curling Camila's hair with a curling iron. She's surprisingly gentle when it comes to other people's hair, even though she's bleached her own half to death. It still manages to look good, though.
She can practically hear Dinah's eye-roll. "Ralph. Duh." Stupidest nickname ever.
Camila hums. "Okay," she replies, and she giggles when Dinah huffs loudly. "So?" Dinah asks. "What are you gonna do about it?"
"Nothing, jesus." Camila shuffles around in her makeup bag for her lipstick. Her eyes flick over to Lauren's currently unoccupied vanity. The brunette is downstairs on the main stage running through her closing number with Lucy while the rest of them are beginning to get ready for stage. Camila doesn't want to think about how they're probably, like, making out or something down there. They can't seem to keep their hands off of each other. "Why do I have to do anything? Can't I just have my crush in peace?"
Dinah whines, sounding disappointed. "That's so boring."
"Plus," Camila can't help adding, "she and Lucy seem to be... well, you know. I wouldn't want to ruin that for them." She can't keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice.
"Puh-lease, her and Lucy are friends-with-benefits at best," Dinah says. "It's not like they're really dating."
"Well, they might as well be. And Lucy is my boss. I'm not trying to get on her bad side." Camila's eyes slide over to the other side of the dressing room, where Normani is applying thick coats of mascara. "I think I've already pissed off enough girls in here for my first week."
Dinah follows her gaze. "Who, Mani?" Camila suddenly remembers that Dinah and Normani are, like, ultimate best friends, and kind of regrets saying anything in the first place. "She's not pissed off at you, she's just jealous."
"Those pretty much sound like the same thing to me."
"Trust me, they're not." Dinah doesn't quite sound defensive, but she seems adamant about this. "Normani is just still protective over Lauren. She'll back off eventually."
Abruptly, at the mention of Lauren and Normani's relationship, Camila recalls something. "Lucy doesn't want me with Lauren either," she says in realization. "She told me that inter-cast relationships were banned."
Dinah's face screws up in confusion. "She did? Christ. They're totally not. Wow, Lucy can be a sneaky bitch sometimes."
"Couldn't agree more."
Both of them jump a little as Lauren bounces up to them, slinging her arms around Camila's neck. "Hi, baby, you look beautiful," she says über-casually, which just makes Camila blush furiously. "So why are we calling Lucy a sneaky bitch?"
Camila is definitely not about to tell her, but it doesn't matter because apparently Dinah has no such reservations. "Did you know Lucy told Mila that there was a rule against inter-cast relationships so she would stay away from you?"
"DJ!" Camila hisses, swatting at her arm.
Lauren looks unfazed. "Yeah, Camila told me."
Camila whirls around to stare at her in disbelief. "Did I?" Dinah is snickering at her. "Stupid bitch," she says, and Camila tries and fails to hit her again.
"Yeah." Lauren takes the curling iron from Dinah, unplugging it from the outlet while Dinah runs her hand through Camila's hair, softening the curls. "I asked Luce about it and she told me she just wanted me all to herself." She's grinning. "How cute is that?"
Camila attempts to not grimace at her. "Adorable." It comes out a little too sarcastic, and Dinah stifles a laugh.
"Don't be a bitch," Lauren says cheerfully. She plops down at her vanity and gets started on her extensive makeup process. Dinah surveys the two of them with a tilted head, until she finally groans and turns to go to her own vanity.
"I just don't understand why you two aren't dating if she wants you all to yourself." Camila knows she's kind of being bratty and annoying, but she can't help herself.
"Because commitment is for suckers," Lauren replies.
"You were committed to Normani."
"I know. She's perfect. But she's also kind of the reason why I don't want to get into another relationship."
Camila side-eyes her. Lauren is creeping her stool closer and closer to her. "Lo, what are you doing?"
"Let me share your mirror!" Lauren pleads. She kicks at Camila's stool with her sneaker. "Then I'll explain my commitment phobia."
"Bitch," Camila says, but she complies, moving over so Lauren can share her mirror. Happily, Lauren moves all her makeup to Camila's vanity, the smell of her vanilla body wash overtaking her space. "Alright. Here we are, clingy. Explain your phobia."
"Okay." Lauren sighs, tipping her head against Camila's shoulder, making Camila smile. She really is the clingiest person ever. Camila's not complaining in the slightest. "Mani and I were really good at first. We started as friends, we had amazing sexual chemistry - it was basically inevitable that we would date. I mean, you've seen her, right? I was crushing hard."
"Right." Normani is unbelievably gorgeous. That's obvious to anyone with eyes.
"We dated for seven months, but we should've probably broken it off at least five months in. She and I would both go out to flirt with the regular patrons so we could get more tips, and then both of us would get jealous and possessive over each other. It was kind of just the nature of this job. Neither of us could handle it, but both of us were doing it. We were being hypocrites. It just wasn't working." Lauren lifts her head off of Camila so she can start applying her primer. "I mean, I'm not saying it would be impossible to date, but it was just too hard for us to work together and date at the same time because nothing was sacred, you know? Anything we showed each other was basically up for grabs for a whole group of random strangers. It was hard to deal with for both of us."
"Oh. That actually makes a lot of sense."
"Yeah. We used to do this number together once we started dating - S&M, the Rihanna song? But the remix with Britney?" Camila nods. "Really, really sexy number. So both of us started to get really antsy and snappy with each other because our whole relationship was on display, all the time. I mean, we performed that number every week. We fought about it a lot and eventually we both refused to perform together at all."
Surprisingly, this seems like a very non-shady, fairly logical reason for two people to break up. Briefly, Camila tries to recall why she thought it was, like, something really dramatic.
Then she remembers what Ariana told her. Normani was convinced Lauren was cheating on her with Lucy. She opens her mouth to ask, but in the mirror, Lauren zeroes in on the expression on Camila's face. "What?" She narrows her eyes at her playfully. "Did someone tell you something different?"
Camila makes a face. "You really want me to tell you?"
Lauren sighs, flinging her arms open. "Hit me. House of Hernandez is a fucking rumor mill. I've heard it all."
Camila lowers her voice, leaning closer to Lauren, and Lauren tips closer to her in response. "Ariana told me that you two broke up because Normani thought you were cheating on her with Lucy."
A pained look crosses Lauren's features, and she groans, slumping back. "I mean, yeah," she says. "I've heard that a lot of people think that. Mani never said anything to me about thinking that I was cheating with Lucy, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she told other people that. Like I said, we were both really, really jealous. Lucy was just giving me a lot of extra attention and Normani jumped to conclusions. Not like I blame her. I would've done the same thing. We both got crazy paranoid and crazy possessive.
"Something about our personalities in a relationship together and in this really sexual environment - it was just all wrong. I mean, it wasn't just about House of Hernandez, it was that we had a lot of sexual chemistry but that still didn't really translate into a healthy relationship. We tried so hard to make it work that we started to hate each other a little bit." Lauren lifts one shoulder in a tiny half-shrug. "We're all good now, obviously, but... it was just wrong place, wrong time. And honestly, wrong person."
This side of Lauren is very rare to Camila - the side of her that is one-hundred-percent serious, sincere, honest without joking around. She seems very mature all of a sudden, and not in her usual hypersexual way... just, like, adult. She's surprisingly eloquent and well-spoken when she actually gets talking about something serious. Camila doesn't even realize she's been staring at Lauren fondly in the mirror until Lauren pokes her thigh with her nail. "Hey, babe." She's laughing. "Come back down to earth, Camz."
"You're cute," Camila says without thinking. Lauren scrunches her nose up into an adorable, squinty-eyed grin, and she leans over to kiss Camila's cheek. "No, you're cute," she replies, then pauses. "How was me talking about my breakup cute?"
"I don't know." Camila's face flushes. "You're just cute when you're being serious. Sorry. I promise I was listening very closely."
Lauren crosses her arms over her chest, pretending to be annoyed, but she's smiling. She reaches out with one hand to squeeze Camila's hip. "I know. You're a really good listener." Camila beams at the compliment and moves Lauren's hand from her hip so she can interlock their fingers.
Their hands swing freely between their stools as Camila fully takes in Lauren's story. "So you're afraid of commitment because you're afraid of your partner cheating?"
Lauren tilts her head. "Kind of. I guess I'm not afraid of commitment as much as I just don't want to be committed to anyone at this point in my life, particularly with this sort of job. I mean, I'm young. I like sleeping around. I don't want to be tied down right now. I have plenty of time to do that later."
Part of Camila can sympathize with that. Part of Camila absolutely can't because she kind of wants to be tied down- tied down to Lauren.
"So..." she prompts. "Lucy?"
Lauren lets out a long, slow breath. "Lucy and I are in a grey area," she says. "If I had to label us, I think I'd say... she's my sugar mommy."
"Ew!" Camila shrieks, dropping Lauren's hand so she can slap her legs, sending Lauren into a fit of giggles. "Ew, ew. Lo, I hate that so much."
"Why is that an ew?!" Lauren retorts at an equally loud volume. "Who do you think your tips come from? Older men who give you money! How is this any different?"
"She's your boss!"
"My hot boss."
"Ewww!"
"Oh my god, will you two both just shut the fuck up?" Both of them jump as Ariana gives them the dirtiest of dirty looks. "Camila, I wish you had never been hired. I don't think Lauren was ever this annoying until you got here."
This is not exactly a new sentiment from Ariana by any means. Lauren and Camila, like they always do, ignore her, too wrapped up in each other to care.
Camila loves the hustle and bustle of the dressing room - the smoke, the vague boozy smell, the intermixing of perfume and sweat and the heady scent of jasmine that always lingers throughout the club. She loves she and Lauren sitting side by side, always shouting over the other girls just to be heard by each other. Dinah more often than not comes over to help them with their makeup or hair, like she did earlier. Ariana - obviously - more often than not takes this time to insult them in a not-so-subtle way. She always says that in the loud chatter of the dressing room, Lauren and Camila are by far the loudest and most annoying.
Camila can't imagine that's true, but honestly she couldn't care less. The energy is just so... right.
She's still in disbelief that she and Lauren have managed to become so close so fast. She's never in her life clicked with someone like this before. She doesn't want to fuck that up to make a move on her, especially because Lauren just openly said that she doesn't want to be tied down right now. Dinah is full of shit. No matter what, Camila couldn't pursue a relationship with a Lauren - Lauren would never want to be with her like that.
So she's just going to hide her crush away somewhere deep inside herself. That seems healthy. She can't act on it, anyway, not while Lauren is in the place where she is, which is no place for a relationship, according to her. She'd be stupid to do that.
Honestly, pining after her silently doesn't seem that much smarter, either. But what other option does Camila have?
"Hey." Lauren nudges her side. "Do you want the truth?"
"No, I want you to fucking lie to me." Camila rolls her eyes, and Lauren flicks the side of her neck. "You're a cunt," she says, not meanly. "I'm serious."
"Tell me, then."
"I don't know how to explain me and Lucy," Lauren confesses. She sifts through Camila's curled hair with her fingers gently. "I think I just like being taken care of."
"You're a bottom, we get it," Camila says.
Lauren scream-laughs and hits Camila's shins repeatedly. "Shut the fuck up!" she squeals. "I'm just saying, she looks after me. She does my makeup or my hair, she lets me spend nights in her apartment. She's really is like my sugar mommy."
"Gross, Lauren." Camila cringes. She doesn't like to think about that, to think about Lauren cooped up at Lucy's place, being fed and being fucked like she's some sort of Rapunzel-style princess trapped in a gorgeous LA penthouse apartment. It's a sweet gig, she has to admit, to have an "older" (it's literally like 7 years at most) woman taking care of you. If it were anyone else she'd be all for it. But Lauren...
Not Lauren. She could never see Lauren being able to sustain herself like that. Not feisty, funny, restless Lauren, the Lauren who can't be tied down or held back. Lauren who loves the grown men staring at her as she performs on stage, who loves flirting with anything that moves. She has an ego, sure, and she's definitely more than a little bratty - on the surface, she seems sort of like the type to enjoy that. But she's not, Camila just knows she's not. That would be like Rachel Berry staying in Ohio and getting married to Finn and settling down there instead of going to New York to pursue her dreams. It's just not right.
But Camila hasn't known Lauren long enough for her opinion on the subject to matter, so instead of saying what she means she taps her shoulder with her knuckle. "As long as you're happy," she says, and her voice carries too much reluctance for Lauren not to pick up on it. She can tell Lauren notices, her pale green, knowing eyes flicking across her face, her hands stilling in Camila's hair.
"I am." She moves to grasp both of Camila's hands, squeezing them tight. "I am, I promise."
"Would you really tell me if you weren't, though?" Camila muses out loud, only half-joking. "You've known me for, like, minutes."
"You're kinda bitchy when you're jealous," Lauren says, and Camila can't stop her cheeks from flushing. "Yes, I would tell you, baby, because despite the fact I've known you for "minutes"-" Her fingers make exaggerated air-quotes- "-I trust you implicitly."
"Why?"
"You're just so pretty. I always trust pretty girls."
"That seems like a foolproof way of living."
Lauren lets out a delighted little laugh. Camila laughs with her, ducking her head and letting a self-conscious little giggle escape her lips. "Sorry," she says. "I think you bring out the worst in me."
"There's no way." Lauren waves her hand dismissively, slicing through the air with her sharp nails. "Seriously, we're water sign soulmates. How could I not trust you?"
Camila presses her palms to her cheeks, feeling the heat of her furious blush. "Stop," she says, her tone a high whine at the deeply satisfied look on Lauren's face. "I know you only say this stuff so you can get me to blush, you whore. You told me that like the first day I met you. How am I supposed to trust you?"
"Because you love me so much," Lauren chirps, like it's simple as that. Camila sighs at her. "You wish," she says, and she wonders how Lauren can just say stuff like that so smoothly, can flirt as easily as she breathes. She wonders if Lauren knows that Camila is falling for her every time she opens her mouth to say something charming or stupid or bratty or silly.
She thinks she must know, just a little.
She thinks it would be impossible not to know how Camila feels. Everyone else certainly seems to.
-
lolo: hey do you want me to pick you up & take you to rehearsal???
lolo: we can get coffee on the way
Camila blinks at her phone. God, fucking rehearsal.
It's Thursday, which means it's one of the many days where she has a full day of classes and then has to go to rehearsal are always fucking brutal. She likes the fast-paced lifestyle, sure, but today, right now, might be the one exception. She's tired, and drained, and half-asleep - all she wants to do is just collapse in her bed and take a long, long nap. She wonders if she can get away with skipping, and then quickly dispels the thought from her brain. No, nope, nope, nope. If she wants the girls to take her seriously, she has to go. She texts Lauren back.
i'm like on the brink of death but sure
i CANNOT be late so don't make me late
Lauren texts her back a smiley face and a heart, so Camila's not sure if that's super trustworthy or not. Still, she'd rather Lauren take her to rehearsal than have to hitch a ride with Dinah (not the problem) and bitchy Normani (the problem), even if they did offer.
Either way, Camila sluggishly changes into a tank top and yoga pants and packs her duffel bag with a change of clothes (she likes changing into new clothes after performing, she's found - she's not one of the girls who changes back into her rehearsal clothes, or stays in her robe. Although she loves her robe so much. She got one maybe a couple weeks after she started working at House of Hernandez, and it's black and silk, just like the rest of the girls, with a little C embossed on the front), yawning the whole way through. She's going to need a gigantic coffee in order to get through the rest of this fucking day.
Lauren and her small black car are idling in front of the school, and when Camila hops in, she's greeted by the vanilla scent of Lauren's perfume and Kali Uchis playing softly through the speakers. Camila makes a pleased noise as she slides into the passenger seat. "I love this song."
Even though Lauren is messy in all other walks of life, especially in her apartment, her car is the one thing that always seems to remain pristine. She must get it washed often, but even the inside is clean. "I get distracted if I have too much trash in my car," Lauren had explained to her the first time Camila asked her about it. "Like, it hinders my driving performance. I get stressed."
Camila had pointed out that it didn't seem to hinder her living performance for her apartment to be in squalor, and Lauren had shrieked and kicked her leg and called her a bitch.
"I need coffee so bad," Camila groans, tossing her bag into the backseat beside Lauren's. "Need it, need it, need it. I'm so fucking tired." She can't imagine how in high school she used to wake up at 6 AM, go to six classes a day, and then have cheer practice right after. She literally feels like she's going to drop dead.
Lauren giggles at her as Camila buckles her seatbelt. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, but the front pieces of her hair are starting to drop out, framing her face, softening her high cheekbones. Her cheeks are a little red, and her forehead is shiny.
"Oh." Camila squints at her while Lauren begins to peel away from the curb. "Wait, Laur, didn't your rehearsal-"
"Start at ten?" Lauren supplies. "Yeah. I told them I would go out and get pick-me-up coffees, and it just so happens it was around the time you and the others started coming to the club, so I decided, hey, two birds, one stone." Her tone suggests nonchalance. The self-satisfied grin on her face suggests she knows exactly how endearing and charming she's being.
Camila's mouth falls open. "Lauren, that's so fucking nice." She wants to reach out and hug her but Lauren's driving, and duh, unsafe. "You're so sweet. You're like the sweetest person alive."
"I know," Lauren says, and Camila cackles out loud. "Seriously, I could've just hitched a ride with Dinah and Normani. You didn't need to leave rehearsal just to come get me."
"I didn't. I left rehearsal for the coffee." This earns another laugh from Camila, and Lauren's eyes crinkle up when she smiles. Her long, glossy black fingernails rap against the steering wheel as she hums along to the music. "I like driving with you," she says honestly. "You're the only person I drive with who doesn't force us to sit in weird awkward silence for too long."
"Because I hate silence!" Camila exclaims. It's kind of what's made her an overly talkative person, which she knows is an annoying-as-hell trait. She might come off a little shy or reserved when she first meets people, but it doesn't take long to get her talking. It's why she made such a perfect, popular, peppy cheerleader back in high school.
Lauren gasps dramatically. "Me too!"
It's not even that funny but it causes them both to crack up. This, too, has become obvious. Their extended discourse on Glee alone that first day Camila performed at House of Hernandez made that very clear.
"Even though half your talking is you criticizing my driving," Lauren continues, "or pointing out when you see a dog, or a person wearing weird clothes-"
"I don't criticize your driving!" Camila protests, even though she knows it's a lie. She's what people would call a backseat driver, kind of. She knows it annoys people so she tries to tone it down, but she doesn't feel any of that kind of shame when she's with Lauren. She doesn't know what it is with her. Camila just feels so incredibly comfortable, like she could do anything, say anything, make any mistake in the world and Lauren still wouldn't judge her for it. Maybe it's because Lauren also seems to lack shame around Camila. Around anyone in general, but Camila likes to think Lauren is extremely comfortable with her too.
"Yes you do," Lauren teases. "You're such a control freak. I can't believe you ever let Ariana top you."
Camila screams with shocked laughter. "You fucking bitch!" she shrieks, just barely refraining from hitting Lauren so she doesn't crash the car. "Oh, I hate you, I hate you!"
"No, you don't!" Lauren protests back. "You think I'm the sweetest person alive! You just said so two minutes ago!"
"I take it back. I hate you so fucking much."
"I'll kick you out of the car, whore!"
They're still giggling when Lauren pulls into the drive-thru of the Starbucks, laughing in that annoying teenage-girl way that would make other people shoot glares at them if they were in public. Sometimes Lauren does remind Camila of her high school friends, of the catty, pretty, popular girls on the cheer squad who were always just a little bit cooler than Camila was. She has the same endless confidence, and she moves in the same way really pretty girls always move, like they know everyone in the room is staring at them, wants to be them or be with them.
But Lauren is sweet and funny and she cares about Camila, actually likes her and tells her and shows her. They have this perfect balance of over-the-top insults and also genuine compliments in their friendship. Something about them together just works so effortlessly. Camila's never had a conversation with Lauren that felt forced, or stilted, or boring. Probably because Lauren's the most fascinating person she's ever met in her life.
Maybe that's why Camila kind of wants to spend every second with her. Maybe it's because the tiny crush she developed on her is starting to grow into something a lot more serious, something she's not sure she should push down or let blossom. It really doesn't help that Lauren is always touching her, or flirting with her, especially because it's something she seems to do with every girl at House of Hernandez.
Camila and Lauren stumble into rehearsal, still jabbing each other in the ribs, their iced coffees sloshing around in their cups - identical orders, as usual. Lucy regards them with a raised chin as they make their way up the stage, crossing her surprisingly muscular arms over her chest. "Glad you took your time," she says, and it's not catty, not exactly, but something in her tone makes Camila smile at her nervously as she hands her a black coffee out of the drink carrier.
Lucy's stiff expression softens when Lauren loops an arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks. "Sorry!" she says cheerfully. "Lady in the drive-thru was a total cunt. Don't be mad."
A smile breaks through Lucy's face and she strokes Lauren's unruly dark waves away from her face. "I'm not mad, darling," she says, and Camila turns away to hide the expression on her face. It's become so typical, the favoritism, the sickly-sweet flirting. It just... it makes her sad. But she doesn't have the right to be sad, she knows that. She's only known Lauren for a few weeks. Lauren has known Lucy for years. If they're a thing they're a thing. Camila needs to get over herself, truly.
Lauren's happy - she said so herself. Who would Camila be to butt in and ruin that?
Rehearsal that day fucking sucks. Lucy has the doors propped open and all the overhead lights turned on, and Camila keeps squinting into the brightness, feeling absolutely woozy and missing her moves several times. Lucy, to her credit, keeps asking her if she's okay. "Seriously," she says, "if you need to take a break, take a break. We can always run another number." She has this maternal way about her that betrays her usually no-nonsense attitude. Plus, after Camila's seen her fawn over Lauren, it's hard to see her as this strict drill sergeant.
Doesn't mean she's not still a little terrified of her though.
Camila is about to say that she's fine, when she blinks hard and her vision starts to swim. "Actually," she says, "yeah, can I go to the bathroom?"
"Of course." Lucy gives her what seems like a smile but everything's a little blurry. "Okay, Laur, in the front, let's just run-"
"Whoa!" Camila feels Lauren's careful hands around her waist all of a sudden, steadying her. She didn't even realize she'd stumbled. "Um, Lucy, baby, I'm just gonna... can you run another number right now?"
There's a pause, but Camila can't see the look on Lauren's face because she's too busy staring at Lauren's huge green eyes, wrought with concern. She doesn't hear Lucy's response, either, because Lauren is rushing her downstage, towards the backstage bathrooms, lowering her softly to the cool tile, propping her up against the wall. If this was any other situation Camila would refuse to even touch the floor of this bathroom (even though it's noticeably cleaner than the ones on the main floor), but she just feels...
"Fuck," she says out loud, hearing nothing but the sound of her blood rushing through her ears.
"It's okay, Camz." Lauren's voice is soft, and she's kneeling beside her, brushing Camila's sweaty hair out of her face. "Can you tell me what you've eaten today?" Somehow, she's obtained a water bottle that she's now lifting to Camila's lips. Camila takes a weak sip.
"Um..." Her voice sounds faraway even to herself. "I don't- um, I mean-"
This used to happen all the time in high school. She'd accidentally skip meals and forget to eat sometimes, just because she was so busy. It got really bad until one day she passed out during one of their cheer stunts and broke three of her fingers on her left hand. She still gets a phantom pain there sometimes, can see it in her mind's eye - her hand bent back at an awkward angle, blood spattered on the mat from where one of her fingernails was torn clean off by the impact.
She's been careful since then, mostly. She hadn't realized that maybe her schedule was so crammed that the only thing she'd consumed today was the giant coffee she and Lauren got before rehearsal - not even any water.
"Shh." Lauren seems to understand her, and when Camila brings her knees up to her clammy face, Lauren presses the water bottle into her hand. "I have a granola bar in my bag. Just let me get it, okay?"
She moves to stand up, but Camila grabs her hand. She's half-delirious. "Don't," she manages to croak out. "Please don't leave."
Lauren stalls. Her fingers brush against Camila's cheek. "You need food," she insists gently. "I swear, I'll be back in thirty seconds."
Camila sees her retreating figure, then the swing of the door before finally shutting her eyes, letting her head loll against the wall. Stupid, stupid, she chastises herself. She promised her mother she wouldn't get like this again when she moved to LA. And she hadn't. It wasn't like this was a pattern. This was just one bad day.
Well, maybe two bad days. She can't exactly recall what she ate yesterday, either, but she hadn't had rehearsal - just attended classes and then slept the whole day. Fuck.
True to her word, Lauren returns back to the bathroom in seconds, wielding a granola bar. She catches the bathroom door before it can loudly slam shut, then releases it carefully so it only closes with a soft click. It's such a small, sweet gesture that Camila just wants to reach out for her, pull her close to her side.
"Thanks," she manages when Lauren hands her the granola bar. She unwraps it and starts chewing. It tastes like chalk, too heavy on her tongue, and it feel wrong and uncomfortable to be eating something after a day (or maybe more) of eating nothing like it always had back in high school. She knows she needs to eat, though, so she does, chews and swallows.
She takes another swig of water, and things seem to slowly be coming back into focus. Lauren is sitting in front of her, cross-legged, arms wrapped around herself, biting her bottom lip. "Are you okay?" she asks tentatively, leaning forward so she can grab Camila's hand. "I didn't- I'm sorry I didn't notice. We could've gotten food at Starbucks, you said you were exhausted-"
"Please." Camila manages a half-strangled laugh. "My eating problems are not your fault." It comes out a lot more straight-forward than she wanted to, and at the look on Lauren's face, she quickly corrects herself. "Not that I have problems with eating. Sorry. I didn't, um... mean it like that."
"Okay." She can tell Lauren doesn't fully believe her. She doesn't blame her.
"I used to." She can't stop it from spilling out of her now - can't lie to Lauren, to her eyes, so worried and honest. "In high school. I had a lot of issues with that sort of stuff. I'm a lot better now, I swear. I just- I just forgot."
"Camila." The sadness in Lauren's voice is enough to make tears spring to Camila's eyes, and she shuts them quickly. "Sorry," she says.
"Hey, hey." She can feel Lauren's arms wrapping around her, and instantly, Camila leans into her, letting the taller girl hold her. "You have nothing to apologize for," Lauren whispers. "I care about you. I trust you. You can tell me anything, okay?"
"Okay."
"Alright." Lauren presses a small kiss to Camila's temple. "I love you."
Camila swallows, hard. "Love you too," she says quietly, leaning her head against Lauren's.
She doesn't know how long it takes for Lucy to come check on them, but when she does she eases the door open with a creak, causing Camila and Lauren to look at her. "You okay?" Lucy asks, leaning her hip against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. Her brow is knit together, pronouncing the lines in her face. "You looked like you were going to pass out."
"Fine," Camila says. She feels a bit better now that she has some food and water in her system. "I just, um, was dehydrated."
Lucy nods in understanding. "That happens with our girls sometimes," she says. "Just come back out when you're ready, okay?" Her eyes flick momentarily to Lauren, and for a second, Camila is sure she's going to ask Lauren to come back out to the stage, but instead she just gives them a small smile and exits the restroom.
Camila sighs and buries her face back in Lauren's shoulder. "I feel like shit," she says.
Lauren hums, runs her fingers through Camila's hair. "I know, baby," she says. "It's okay."
Camila feels small and stupid and guilty for just falling apart in Lauren's lap. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I didn't mean to dump all of that on you. I don't have, um..." She can't bear the say the words out loud, can't bear to acknowledge exactly how bad it had gotten. She zeros in on her left hand resting in her lap, at her three fingers that would always be a little crooked after she broke them. "I'm healthy now."
It's the truth, it really is. One bad day. Maybe two. This doesn't set back all the progress she made since high school with her eating issues. She shuts her eyes and tries not to spiral. Especially not in front of Lauren. Acting like this isn't something she likes to do in front of anyone. She pinches her knee between two of her crooked fingers, trying to bring herself back down to earth. You're fine, she tells herself, you're fine. One bad day. It's not going to undo years of progress.
"Good." Lauren breaks the silence. Camila can feel her lips press softly against her cheekbone. "You scared me, out there. I was sure you were going to faint."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"I am, though."
"Camz." Lauren blows out a breath, but doesn't push her any further, just holds her. She's warm against Camila's side. Camila hasn't talked to anyone about this except her mother and then, subsequently, her doctor, and then a therapist. She shouldn't be telling Lauren. She doesn't want Lauren, the most put-together, perfect girl in the world, to think that she's weak. But that's how she feels, whenever thoughts of her eating habits start nagging at her brain again. She feels pathetic.
She pinches her knee harder. No spiraling.
Lauren must notice, because she takes Camila's hand, pulling it towards her lap, off of her knee. "Hey, you're okay," she murmurs, and it's so fucking sincere. "Do you want more food? I have more in my bag."
"Do you?" It'll taste grainy and utterly unappetizing, Camila already knows. But she needs something more in her system. "Yeah, if you don't mind."
"Of course I don't."
When Lauren comes back, she's shaking a brown paper bag - a packed lunch, Camila realizes with a start. She drinks more water as Lauren places it next to her, resuming her spot by her side. Usually Lauren or one of the girls will go grab food towards the end of rehearsal, chiefly to avoid situations like this. Sometimes they'll go get fast food. Sometimes they'll pick something up from the tiny vegan cafe two blocks down from the club. Camila never even thought about packing a lunch, but when she rustles through the bag and finds apple slices and Goldfish crackers, she's thankful for Lauren's foresight. She's never thought of flighty, carefree Lauren as being responsible about anything until now.
They sit there for a while, but not quietly - even like this, the two of them can't stand to be quiet, especially Lauren. Camila eats and listens to Lauren talk in circles about how she just started watching Pretty Little Liars again and it's sending her into a full gay spiral. It earns a few laughs from Camila but she also thinks anything Lauren says is funny, so. It makes her feel better.
For a beat Lauren is silent, and then she says, "Can I ask you something?"
Camila stiffens, but Lauren quickly rushes, "Not about that, I promise."
"Oh." She relaxes. Lauren is an eternally curious person - she's glad this is the one thing she doesn't push. "Yeah, sure. Shoot."
"Why LA?" Lauren questions. "I mean, it's the best city in the world, but-" She cuts herself off with a laugh. "Was it just for school?"
It's so out of left field that Camila raises her eyebrows, but still, the change of subject is definitely... preferable. "Mostly," she says. "I mean, it was either escape to Los Angeles for school or attend community college in Kansas and live there for the rest of my life." She shudders. "God, I'd probably be forced to marry a man."
She's being dramatic - sort of. It's not like her parents would force her to get married to anyone... well, her mom wouldn't, at least. Her mom is an angel. But Lauren's eyes get really big. "Would you really?"
"I mean... I don't know. I'd stay in the closet, that's for sure." Camila learned a lot in high school about other people, and especially about how things went in her town. Gay people got bullied and chased off. She'd never forget about the one out gay boy at her high school who tried to join the cheerleading team and got beat up by a couple of the football players. Camila had seen him afterwards, had seen the horrible bruising on his face. His parents pulled him out of school a week later.
She'd never forget how her friends had talked about him. "He had it coming," one of her fellow cheerleaders had said primly. "I mean, my parents said anyone who acts that faggy deserves to be knocked down a peg." And then they had all laughed and agreed and Camila had sat there, feeling like she was going to be sick to her stomach. And she knew then that she could never really be herself as long as she stayed in her little town, with her small-minded friends and their small-minded parents, and she couldn't do that, couldn't torture herself like that. Couldn't stand staying in her house where she knew her dad said the same horrible shit her friend's parents did, who let homophobic slurs fall out of his mouth as easily as he breathed.
But, like she said, her mother was an angel, and she gave her the money to make her escape. And now she's never been happier than she is right now.
"Does anyone in your hometown know?" Lauren asks. "That you're gay, I mean."
"My mom." Camila shrugs. "That's it. My dad would probably have a heart attack and try to disown me all in one breath if he knew."
Lauren nods sagely, like she gets exactly what Camila's talking about, which makes Camila wonder. "What about you?" she inquires. "Do your parents know that you're into girls?"
Instantly she remembers Lauren's situation with her parents and regrets asking. "Sorry," she rushes quickly. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to pry. You totally don't have to answer that." And after Lauren was so sensitive to Camila, earlier - god, Camila's such a fuck-up.
Something crosses over Lauren's face, and her shoulders slump back just the slightest bit. "It's fine," she says. "Your memory is shit, though."
"I know." Camila grabs both of Lauren's hands in her own. "Lo, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly."
Lauren sighs, ducking her head. She hooks one of her ankles around Camila's shin. "They don't know," she says. "Can't imagine they'd be too pleased, though." Absentmindedly, she touches a finger to her bottom lip, clearly deep in thought. "If they hadn't already kicked me out I think that would've probably done it."
Camila frowns at her. "They kicked you out," she repeats, feeling suddenly horrible. Fuck. That is what Dinah had told her, isn't it. Dammit! Why can't she just keep her mouth shut? Lauren is - and because of her usually flighty nature, it shocked Camila to her core to realize this - the most careful, genuine, compassionate girl ever, and she was so thoughtful about Camila's eating stuff, and she's looking after her and giving her food, and Camila's just making a fucking fool of herself. Her head is fuzzy from malnutrition and her memory is even fuzzier, and she's an idiot.
But Lauren doesn't look mad, or upset. Just distant. "Kind of." She doesn't bother to elaborate, and Camila doesn't want to push her anymore than she already has. Instead she pulls Lauren close, wrapping her arms tightly around her, inhaling her familiar scent.
"I love you," she says into her neck. "You don't deserve that. You deserve the best in the world."
She can feel Lauren pulling her in tighter, feel her silky waves tickling her collarbone. "I love you too," Lauren murmurs. "You're like my favorite person, you know that?" Even still, even now, after Camila has been nothing but a colossal idiot. Camila's stomach flutters.
"You're so cheesy." Camila's cheeks grow warm. "You're my favorite person too," she says, and she means it.
-
They register that both of them come from kind of fucked up pasts, kind of fucked up home lives. They try not to talk about it again and ignore it the best they can, but there's something between them now, a sort of secret understanding that only they know. There's a level of sensitivity there, a level of care, one that's softened their friendship. Not to the point that they have to walk on eggshells around each other, but-
It's hard to explain. They've just become really attached to each other in a really short amount of time, that's all.
-