The Payphone (Camren)

Chapter 13: All I Heard Was Nothing

Normani at a payphone, issa sign 👀

<~><~><~>

Lauren

I wonder if people know what it's like to feel overwhelmed... to be drowning in loathing - loathing for yourself. I wonder if people know what it's like to feel guilty for hating the person you are or a specific someone you were supposed to love and cherish; if they understand what it's like to live in this paradoxical world that haunts my psyche constantly.

Maybe people understand what it's like to have these feelings that can suddenly snap to attention at the slightest trigger. Surely someone understands what it's like not being sure of how they're supposed to feel... to ask themselves, do I deserve this? If it's happening.. if it's happened for 17 years already, that I deserve it?

Perhaps multiple lives exist and I was a terrible person in my previous one, not that I'm not a terrible person now. It's ironic really, how when religion gets thrust into your life from day 1 and forced into your days it turns into something that you can loathe.

How can a God who's supposed to love all of us and save us and 'give us what we deserve' do this? How he can ignore all this suffering and let the perpetrators have free reign. And yet, I hope I can collect the compensation that's due to me. Compensation my mind screams for, that my soul needs.

That begs questions about God. Questions that shake the foundation of my religious life.

I have had a bad day I admit, but most days are bad days. Everything is on a scale. Sometimes I hate the fact that I hate pain. Physical pain that is; clearly I love emotional pain, as emotionally damaged as I am. Sometimes I wonder if it's true what people say, that physical pain can feel cathartic. If it's actually possible to remove emotional pain in that way.

Sometimes when it's bad, I'll stare at my wrist and forget about the fact that I always claimed that people who cut their wrists were stupid because people can see that shit. I'd dig my fingernails in and it wouldn't feel particularly good or bad but I'd do it anyway. I'd get a pair of scissors and open it up and hold it against my wrist and press down, not breaking skin - never breaking the skin. Afterall it's taken 17 years for me to get to this point - did it mean I was strong? Or perhaps I'm weak?

I remember I was actually satisfied when I first saw the red lines and I have no idea why. But I also remember I felt panic because I had left red lines in the wake of my scissors experimenting but the panic eventually dissolved to relief when they went away. I didn't want anyone to know, I knew that. I didn't want a specific person to know. I didn't want to feel guilty about being dissatisfied with where my life was heading.

The thing is, no matter what I believe in it won't stop this. But there's always the what if. My mind is so sick of this - of living this way. It begs me to do something - anything, yet I can't.

It seems my constant internal debate will never cease no matter what I do.

So here I find myself staring at Camila. God, she's so beautiful it hurts to look at her sometimes. My chest always constricts when I remember she will never be mine. But that's okay, she deserves happiness and that's what I strive to give her even if it's with somebody else. So it's okay every time I see her with that guy who I thought was gay at first. It hurts but I'm apparently an emotional masochist.

I guess you could say I have issues. I'm pretty fucked up - but who isn't at least a little?

It's always so hard to calm the raging tornado of thoughts in my mind but sometimes when I look at her or simply be around her they quieten down as if they can sense her presence. She's good for me. It's just so hard to put my thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words. How do you make someone feel the same way you do? It would be cruel but then they'd understand.

Sometimes on my bad days I want nothing more than for people to understand, to be put in my shoes because then they'd stop questioning me and understand what it's like to live this way - to have been brought up this way and living with it for 17 years.

So I smile at her and tell her I'm going to do my performance but I decide to make a certain tweak. I need an outlet for the chaos in my mind so I make a surprise announcement for a cover I'm about to do.

"It's called If I Believe You." I said. I end up pouring my heart and soul into it and unknowingly asking the universe to help.

"If I believe you... would that make it stop?" Would this stop?

My body moves on its own accord and I find myself making the stage a canvas of my emotional turmoil.

"And I'm broken and bleeding, and begging for help." My head bowed over the microphone which was still on the stand. And when I finished I looked up for the first time and found people swaying with lights in the air as if maybe I had moved them. A small smile graced my lips, and still I refused my eyes to sway towards the one person I wanted to see the most. Apparently, I cared for her opinion. (Actually, who am I kidding, I already knew that).

And so I steeled my nerves and announced that I was going to sing an original song I had penned and was the song I was supposed to sing.

"I wrote this thinking of a particular set of warm brown eyes." I willingly divulge.

And so when I start this song I finally let myself seek out the eyes that soothe my soul. I meet Camila's eyes as I sing, "My heart beats a little faster, when our eyes meet in the middle of the crowded room."

I had a feeling I would regret it but in that moment I felt like nothing could touch me, like nothing in my fucked up life could ever fuck this up. Oh how wrong I was as I would come to know.

I never thought hearing "Nothing" all the time would erupt such loathing in myself.

I never thought I'd become so good at deceiving others - it had become so second nature that it became me. And although others would disagree, this is the way I've chosen to cope.

Camila

Oh my fucking God. I think I peed in my pants a little. Lauren fucking stared straight into my eyes and sucked my soul out of my body. Her performance was so fucking intense, a surprise for me indeed. My musings flew out of my head as Dinah tugged me harshly by my arm and literally dragged me towards Lauren who was laughing with Normani.

"Here's a coke." I gave a shy smile to Lauren. "You must be thirsty."

"Oh I am pretty thirsty." She had the twinkle in her eye again.

"Lauren! Get out of here! At least take me out to dinner first." I joked and slapped her arm. "But seriously, that was amazing. You pulled off such contradictory performances so perfectly everyone felt it down to their bones."

"Aww thanks Camz." A hint of red seeped into her porcelain skin and she grinned so that her front teeth showed fully. That's so fucking cute.

"No problem Lo." I grinned.

"Whipped." I heard a cough behind me that sounded suspiciously like Dinah Jane. I slowly tilted my head and glared at her for making the moment a little awkward despite Normani and Ally snickering like schoolgirls gossiping.

"Why don-" My words were interrupted by arms that snaked around my waist and I felt myself being pulled into a warm, comfortable body. I pouted but leaned more into the body that I knew was Lauren.

Lauren is so comfortable but so different from Shawn. His body evolved from a stick to pure muscle so it's literally like hugging a rock. Lauren, however, is all softness and it just feels so cozy.

I tucked my head underneath her chin as she hummed at something Ally said. I think she talked about a song she penned called 'Perfect'?

"Lolo?"

"Yes Camz?" Lauren murmured.

"Lo, 'm tired." I mumbled out. Lauren's body was a little distracting - all soft, warm and cozy. I felt so sleepy that eventually, I slipped into unconsciousness.

<~><~><~>

Hey guys, emo chapter since I'm feeling emo and shit. I hope your lives are going swell.

I apologise, I was never a very good writer.