Our Little Secret ➳ Camila Cabello

seven

Camila and I made it through the week of tour that I was dreading with little complications. Mostly because I shut myself into the RV for fear that I would see something I wouldn't want to see. My depression was growing at an all time high from hiding away. When I first met my Mila, I was happier than I'd been in years and I felt loved for the first time. But now my depression has gotten so strong that Camila has to beg me to get out of bed. She doesn't know I suffer from depression, nor should she. That's just another thing for her to worry about. But she notices, I know she does.
Normani, Ally, and I took the same flight out to Houston and I could tell they were excited. I would've been more excited, but I found out late last night that my Uncle would be busy with a new show he was working on so he wouldn't be able to pick me up and had arranged for a cab to be paid in full to get me. I could feel the love already. Ally sat by me the entire time holding my hand, noticing that I was acting different.
After an hour of being on the flight, Ally looked at me while I was on my phone and whispered to me trying to not wake up Mani. "I know you're not happy no matter what you say to me."
I glared at her, "You really don't know how to start a conversation, do you?"
She smiled and laid her head back on her head rest, "I don't feel like I should waste my time talking to you about it anymore. We are good enough friends and I feel like I know when you're hiding something by now. Especially when you've been refusing to leave your bed for the past few days. Usually you're out there cheering us on, or keeping an eye on Mila but you've been giving us space."
"And this conversation keeps going deeper and deeper." I said in a bitchy tone that sadly had no effect on Ally at this point.
"Say what you want, y/n. But I know what depression looks like, even if the other girls don't. They are younger than me and haven't really experienced that much, but my dad and his cousin went through depression once. Except his cousin got out of it."
I looked at her in hope, "How?"
Ally's eyes started to brim up with tears, but her voice stayed normal. "He killed himself one night after a lot of drinking. That's why my Dad was depressed. They were such good friends and it killed him to see John die." It was quiet on the plane for a second until Ally lifter her head off the rest and looked deep into my eyes, "I don't want to see you be John, y/n. I love and care for you like you're my little sister or even my daughter sometimes. It'd kill me to see another one of my family members to go through this."
I didn't want to think about death, not right now. I rubbed my thumb pad over the back of Ally's hand and smiled at her caring words. "Don't worry, Ally. If I start to feel like I'd have no way out of my depression, I'll call you up." Although I really wouldn't. Being a repressed person means you keep to yourself. If I was really that deep in sadness, I wouldn't even want to burden someone else with my chemical imbalance.
She squeezed my hand and smiled. "Good. I just wanted to say this before we landed in Texas and had to split up for a few days."
As she finished her sentence, the flight attendant came over the loud speaker. "Ladies and gentlemen, please excuse the interruption but we are now descending into Houston, Texas. Please put away all electronic devices, and buckle your seat belts. Thank you."
I rolled my eyes, and did what was told as Ally squeezed my hand harder than before. She hated landing more than anything, and no matter if I was with Mila on the plane, she always used me to comfort her. "God, I hate this. Oh yeah, do you want to come over and meet my family this week?"
Normani was now awake and heard Ally's question. With a whine she spoke to us, "Noooo. I wanted her to come meet my family."
I smiled feeling so wanted, "Trust me. I'll have time to come by both of your houses."
They agreed as the wheels of the plane hit the landing strip safely.

--

When we got off the plane, Normani and Ally were greeted by at least 10 of their family members each. The only one that greeted me at the gate was a random, young, cab driver with a sign that had my name on it. When I walked up to the man, his eyes lit up in surprise. As he talked his voice sounded somewhat deep, yet still a little childlike. "Ms. Y/L/N?" I nodded and he reached down to collect my big suitcase. "Welcome to Houston." He said as we began to walk back out into the pick up line and put my things in the trunk.
When I was in the back of the cab I received a message from Ally.