Once In A Limelight

17|Camilla

The cameras flashed around us. The paparazzi were quiet. Cunning. No screaming or beckoning. Like a hidden snake that counted the seconds before it pierced you with poison. This time, the reporters wanted to see and hear every detail.

"You look very tense." Billy said casually beside me, picking up a lace top that went against every fashion law I obeyed.

I fingered the material, not changing a thing about how I looked.

"Eat shit, Billy." I said the words monotonously, picking a denim jacket off the rack.

We were in Nemari, a clothing store that I avoided going to ever since the first time I'd been there. Every time I entered, I'd have an urge to throw up. On the clothes. Billy didn't know that.

"Fix your attitude, Camilla." He palmed my lower back, whispering the words in my neck. The camera flashes went wild.

I wanted to scream.

"Don't fucking touch me." I turned to look at him with wide furious eyes.

I felt so fucking cheap. How was I still giving this man the comfort of laying a hand on me without hesitation even after what he did? He never once hesitated. It was like he saw me as used goods. Like he used me once so it was totally fine to do it again and again. If I could bite his fucking disgusting hand off, I would.

He laughed at my command, throwing his head back as if I just told him the funniest joke of the century. My words were worthless to him, and although I wasn't surprised, it still cut me deeply. I was still fighting in a battle that I'd already lost.

We were positioned so the press wouldn't see my face, just his delighted one as I willed everything in me not to push one of the hangers down his throat.

"You might want to tone that temper down if you don't want your fucking career to perish." He held a blouse in front of his face, hiding the vicious look on his face that was directed at me. God, how I would absolutely live for punching his face. I wanted to break his nose because that's what hurts the most.

Instead of giving in to any of my violent desires, I walked past him, standing behind a wall of cheetah printed clothes that just made everything a million times worse. Breathing out all that I was feeling, I composed myself in under a minute before walking back out.

A sudden wave of loud chatter and extensive camera flashes erupted, immediately putting a smile on my face. Mari was here.

We agreed, without Billy's knowledge, that she'd come after us right after landing in New York so it'd appear more like a reunion/girls day out, and that he was just a coincidence since we initially met here to my request.

I looked at him with a satisfied innocent smile, I chose the narrative, Billy Jones.

I did as I was told; he couldn't do anything about it. I just did it on my terms.

"Sorry I'm late." Mari lied while wrapping her arm around my back, giving me an opportunity to look at Billy's vexed face.

When we walked out of the store hand in hand, my best friend made sure to accidentally press the heel of her shoes down on his foot. I felt a tad lighter inside.

Even though I knew that act of rebellion would cost me, I needed it as a reminder that I still had control over my life. That even though Billy literally held my life in his hands, it was still mine. And I'd fight to my last breath until I got it back.

-- ⋅ ⋅ ── ── ⋅ ⋅ --

We were at the hospital.

I finally took off my brace after a few examinations and an official okay from the doctor to use my arm normally but with gentle care for the next couple of weeks in order to recover completely. It was just a dull strain in my shoulder but otherwise I was free.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked Mari while walking down the hospital hallway, our bodyguards trailing behind us.

"I still can't get the Manaqish out of my mind. These little devils gained me some pounds but they were so fucking worth it. We should go to Beirut again together." She hooked her arm with mine, a lighthearted smile on her face.

I was glad her relationship with food was getting better than before. She's been suffering from an eating disorder basically all her life. Thanks to grandma Aubry. Mari's everlasting love for modeling was the only thing keeping her from quitting this life all together. It was the only thing keeping me from punching grandma Aubry in the face too. I never liked the woman even though millions of people don't share the sentiment. What was with the grandmothers anyway?

"We will," I nodded, "So, the time away was beneficial?"

"I can't believe I flew across the world to forget about what I did. It's so embarrassing, how he affects me." She grimaced, looking like she'd rather die than repeat that.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Mari," I huffed, "I don't get why you don't just...talk it out or something."

"Like you and Edward?" She fired back, making me groan while laughing.

"I don't want to think about what he'd feel when he sees the pictures from today." I sighed, already feeling the guilt creep up my chest. I had to do it.

"You told him you didn't cheat, Cami," She squeezed my arm, "He should trust you until you're ready to tell him."

"What if I'll never be ready?" I whispered, looking down. That terrified me.

"Then, he either lives with that or not." She said simply.

But how could he live with that? Every time I'd picture myself in his place, I'd feel that excruciating pain just imagining it. Eddie lived that every time anything with me and Billy showed up. Why did he have to hurt either way?

I hated myself for not being stronger to fight it, this feeling of dread and loss every time I thought about speaking about what happened that night. What was I so afraid of? That they won't believe me? That they'd see me differently? That everything was going to change? Yes, I was afraid.

"I don't think anyone would live with that." I said, realizing I might actually lose him. Like really lose him.