WONDER | shawmila

one.

Camila had been sitting up in bed, staring at the message on her laptop screen for the last fifteen minutes. It still didn't feel real.

Her head throbbed with a slight hangover, but she was afraid to blink or look away, afraid it would vanish if she did. Finally, it became too much. She grabbed her water bottle off the side table and took a few swallows.

She then went to the bathroom, glad the lights were off as she took a Tylenol from the medicine cabinet. She then forced her laptop shut for a moment.

She wanted to reply right away, not wanting the chance to slip or for him to lose interest, but she also didn't want to form a response in this state. She laid in bed, sipping her water as the last twenty-four hours replayed in her head.

It started yesterday bright and early. Camila stood outside the studio booth door, a drink carrier of piping hot lattes in her hands as she looked up at the light above the door.

'On Air' was lit up bright red, so she knew better than to barge in, even if she did have their orders. She was not going to make that mistake again and get yelled at.

Camila was an intern at KABC, one of the largest radio stations in Los Angeles. She remembered tearing up when she got the job about a year ago, seeing it as her foot in the door of the music industry.

In a way, it was. KABC was known for always having guests on their shows, real popular artists who would actually come into the studio for their interviews.

Camila remembered the first time she saw one in the studio. She was so nervous around them, and when she was nervous, she talked a lot. She told them how much their music inspired her, feeling her face flush red as she didn't even give herself time to breathe.

She gasped as Ryan, one of the hosts of the morning show, put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back. They told her that from then on, she shouldn't bother their guests.

Camila supposed she understood what he meant—they were coming in for press, they expected everyone at the studio to be professional and not hound them. Camila had felt so embarrassed about how she behaved that she stayed quiet for the rest of the week.

Adam and Ryan were well known around the city—or, their voices were at least. Camila didn't know how their show pulled so many numbers or got so many guests when she knew them in real life, and knew how annoying they could be in real life.

But she didn't let them teasing her, calling her coffee girl or pretending they couldn't pronounce her name, get to her. She just smiled politely when they spoke to her, not wanting to risk her job to call them assholes to their faces.

She knew what they thought of her dreams of being a singer. Once or twice they told her to keep trying and that she'll get there soon, only to burst out laughing when they thought she couldn't hear them.

She rolled her eyes. Who cares what they said? They thought just because they knew all these singers that they truly knew anything about the craft? Not likely.

Still, Camila wished they were nicer. In her fantasy, Ryan and Adam would play Camila's demos, the ones she recorded in her bathroom, on their show for everyone in LA to hear. She'd get discovered overnight, several record companies competing for her to sign.

But that was just a fantasy. It faded from her mind when she saw the 'on air' light turn off. She balanced the drink holder on one arm and knocked on the door.

No one told her to come in, they never did, but she could hear them laughing and goofing off as they always did during the commercial breaks. Camila opened the door and stepped in.