Unscripted (Lauren/You)

XXIV

Who knew that so many people could fit into one room, orderly and comfortably nonetheless?

Everyone from the Kim Possible set was huddled together, fitting as many people on the couches and chairs in Doug's living room. The cast, the directors, the tech and makeup crew, literally everyone was here. Some of us had even brought a plus one to this party, Camila being mine.

Even after everything that has happened, Camila is still one of my closest friends. She was there for me when I had my breakdown, and as much as I would absolutely love to forget that night, it was still stuck in my mind.

I had no problem pulling up Camila's contact through my blurry vision, having it memorized. The ring only lasted a second, and I heard her voice almost immediately.

"Hey, Y/N. Perfect timing, our show just ended."

"Mila?" I cried out. I was still trying to hold it in, but I wasn't strong enough to handle this amount of pain.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" she asked, incredibly worried.

"I- La-" I stuttered. There was nothing I really could say, honestly. Nothing was making sense in my head, or my heart for that matter. Everything was jumbled up, or that could just be the pieces of my heart spread about. I genuinely don't know, though, because I've never felt like this before.

"Shh, calm down, babe. Take a couple breaths for me," Camila advised. Her tone was nice and peaceful, but my body did not want to cooperate at all.

"Wh-Where a-are yo-you?" I cried out through heavy, uneven breaths.

"I'm at a hotel in Mexico," she said, sadness in her voice. "Do you need me to fly to LA? I'll be there in a couple hours."

I shook my head, though I knew she couldn't see me. "N-No," I struggled.

"Babe, what's wrong?" she basically whined, but then got angry. "Did Asher come near you again? Did he hurt you? God, I'm going to kick his stupid fuc-"

"It wasn't A-Asher," I said pretty clearly. "What h-hotel are y-you at?"

"No, Y/N, I'll come to you. Don't worry, I'll be there soon."

"I'm in Mexico," I said, my voice cracking all over the place.

"You are?" she asked, shocked. I nodded my head, unable to speak from sobs collecting in my throat. I sniffled, and I think that's when she realized what must've happened. Camila's tone was softer as she said, "I'm at the Marriott across the street. Room 664."

"O-Okay."

There was a couple seconds of silence on both ends before I hung up and began walking towards the hotel. I easily spotted it once I was outside, it towering above me with a giant sign on the side of the building. My feet dragged themselves to the hotel with no difficulty. I kept my head down to ensure that no one would see my tears, though it wouldn't be hard to spot if someone looked at my face for two seconds. I was able to contain any sobs that might have escaped during the walk, but there was nothing I could do about the redness and puffiness of my cheeks. All I'm hoping is that I don't run into anyone I know, that way I don't have to stop when they ask if I'm alright. Strangers aren't likely to stop a random person crying to see if they're okay, so I'm fine if they notice. But that's it.

I was lucky enough to reach the hotel with no interruptions, and even more lucky to not have been stopped by anyone when I went to the elevators. The staff might've been more focused on dealing with the ecstatic fans holding signs, so I easily slipped by them.