Camren: Only we Know

Lonely Miami

CAMILA'S POV

The sound of the ocean waves is always calming. With sand in between my toes and my guitar over my crossed legs, I think I actually feel content in this moment for the first time in years. It's been way too long since I got to peacefully sit in the quiet night and stare at the Miami stars, get high and play music for none other than my own conscience. It's almost as if I never left for The X Factor, as if I never became a member of Fifth Harmony.

Do I feel content at this moment because I can pretend that never happened? Do I actually wish I never auditioned? Am I not being grateful to everything I've been blessed with because of that? Do I really regret making enough money to support my family? Or that I have actual fans that freak out over us the exact way I used to freak out over 1D? Do I actually regret meeting Lauren?

- No – I sigh.

The only sound in this beach besides the soft waves crushing against the Miami coast is me gathering my stuff to go back to my house. I guess it's my family's house now, since I basically don't live here anymore. Whatever. I feel my phone vibrating on the back pocket of my shorts, and scrub the sand off of it before answering.

- Hey, ma. I'm on my way home – I say, already knowing why she calls me.

- Okay, mija, just checking up on you – She says – Apúrate.

- No te preocupes, mama – Sometimes we switch languages just because. I guess that's just a Miami type of thing, it always brings a smile to my face now that I don't get to have so much time with my mom as I did before the group. I really do miss her.

We say our goodbyes and I head to Jorge's car. Jorge is a taxi driver who's also a family friend, he drives us anywhere we want when we need a taxi. At least he used to do that when we were younger. He'd bring me to school and back home, or take us shopping or literally anywhere before we could afford a car. He's almost an uncle, so whenever I'm home I hire him as a personal driver to help him out. He helped us when we needed it, so now that I can I'll help him in return.

- Hola, Jorge - Digo sonriéndole al retrovisor.

- Hola, señorita Karla – Él responde cordialmente.

- Jorge, eres como mi tío – No puedo evitar sonrojarme un poco con su formalidad. A él le encanta – Por favor llámame Camila.

- Está bien, señorita Camila – Yo sé que el mexicano de cabello gris y barba negra solo bromea conmigo, como siempre.

- Eres un idiota.

- ¡Gracias, wey!

*translation*

- Hi, Jorge – I say smiling to the rearview mirror.

- Hello, miss Karla – He answers politely.

- Jorge, you're like an uncle – It's impossible for me not to blush a little when he treats me with so much formality. And he loves it – Please call me Camila.

- Okay, miss Camila – I know the grey haired Mexican man with a black beard is poking fun at me, as always.

- You're an idiot.

- Thanks, wey!

*

That night, after eating the fajitas mama made for dinner, I go to Sofi's room and tell her all about the VMAs last year, the part of the south american tour she wasn't there for and everything Fifth Harmony has been up to in the last year. She was flipping to know everything about the whole show. And of course I am equally excited about telling every single detail about it. Well, to be honest, I'm not too excited about telling my little sister all about the Lauren drama. I have no reason for putting her in such a depressing and stressful situation, nor do I want to re-live it.