CALL IT EVEN | shawmila

three.

Camila's feet were starting to ache from her heels, but Roger had already told her not to take them off. She thought it was stupid, that they were all trying to pretend she wasn't as short as most of the fans who came to see her.

Still, she tried to ignore the blisters and focus on this, one of the things she wasn't lying about when she said she loved it was meeting the fans. These people would stand for hours—something Camila could sympathize with—in these lines, just to talk to her for two minutes. They spent so much on these VIP passes and Camila tried to make it worth it for them.

The turnout this time around, the opening show for her second album, was much bigger than the one for her first. The line stretched past the point that she could see, even in these tall heels.

It was a blur, but she tried to remember each face, each girl who was crying happy tears or laughing. It started to bring Camila to tears too. She tried not to let them fall, not wanting to ruin her makeup. These girls all wanted pictures too, and no one wanted to see their idol crying in a picture they'd be cherishing.

There was a small one minute break between fans and Camila took the chance to drink some water, leaning against the wall to take the pressure off her toes. She glanced around the backstage lounge, her eyes sweeping over the few people who she saw more than anyone in the world.

Her security guard was quiet, but on alert, looking out into the hallway at the line of people. Roger and Amelia, the photographer, were talking and smiling. Camila figured that was a good sign, if he was in a good mood.

"Camila—" His smile slipped off as he looked over at her. "Nice big smiles for the camera, okay?"

"I know." She smiled back, her heart aching.

She wasn't even allowed to show too much emotion. Couldn't he tell she was happy? Or at least, happier than she'd been on stage earlier. She'd been so tired, her legs aching from all that choreography. At least the words to the songs were super easy to remember, since they were just simple and catchy and didn't mean much.

The security guard pulled back the velvet rope and Camila stood up straight again, stowing her water bottle on the table nearby and approaching her marker. She smiled like Roger wanted, keeping the tears back.

"Camila!"

Camila actually gasped and laughed. She had thousands and thousands of fans, but she did remember a few by face and name. Those were the ones who were the most active on social media and who made the most fan content.

Bella was one of those special fans, running both a fan page on Twitter and an art page on Instagram. She made her own t-shirts and had worn one to her first meet and greet with Camila over a year ago for her first album.

"I love your shirt, Bella!" Camila smiled, watching the girl's eyes light up.

"Y-You remember my name!?"

"Of course. I think you're so talented."

They hugged, Camila hearing the faint shutter click of the camera. She made sure to smile, knowing this one was for Bella. They talked a little, Camila making sure to look her in the eyes, nodding as Bella told her how her music helped her have some escapism from the plights of seventh grade.

"School was rough for me too—" Camila told her, holding back the fact that she didn't even graduate. "Just keep pacing yourself, and make sure you do the homework. That makes a huge difference."

"Thanks." Bella smiled, tears almost in her eyes too. "I was hoping to ask you something? About the last song on the album—"

Camila suddenly felt a cold chill, Bella's voice fading slightly in her ears as she glanced up. The line of fans was just beyond the velvet rope, concealed around the corner, yet Camila felt a chill, like someone was watching her. It was a feeling she knew almost too well.