Serendipity (Camren)

Chapter 4: The Threat

The man who is swimming against the stream knows the strength of it." ― Woodrow Wilson

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She felt like she was choking. Or maybe drowning. Shit, had she been swimming? Did she lose her stroke count and end up hammering the wall with her head?

As Lauren began to wake more, she tried desperately to take in lungfuls of air, sputtering on what was clearly water streaming through her hair, covering her face and leaving her trying to yank wet strands out of her mouth so that she didn't accidentally aspirate on them and die ignominiously.

She looked up through the curtain of hair and saw Lucy standing over her with a now empty glass. "What the fuck, Lucy? Are you trying to kill me?" Her voice was even more gravelly than normal, and she could barely get her tongue to move to make the correct sounds.

"Get up, asshole. I left you on the floor last night and went out with Carson because I refuse to clean up your puke again. Goddamn it, Jauregui. If I didn't love you, I'd fucking hate you."

"Brilliant. Thanks for that." Lauren moved to stand, got as far as her knees, and quickly crumpled again when nausea and an icepick behind her eye made themselves known. She grunted in pain, and Lucy's resolve to be angry began to ebb.

"Come here, Lauren. Let me help you." Lucy dropped the glass on the carpet and moved forward to take care of her friend. She grabbed Lauren under her arms and gently helped her to her feet, and then walked her back to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She put her hand on Lauren's damp forehead, and looked down at her best friend.

"You're going to kill yourself one of these days," she said sadly.

"Right now, that would be just fine with me. I feel like I dunked myself in lighter fluid, and had someone throw a lit match on me. That didn't happen, did it?" Lauren asked out of the corner of her mouth.

Lucy shook her head. "We have a band meeting with our new manager at three at the Haven downtown. You need to be there, regardless of how you feel about her."

"I'll be there. Have I ever let you down?" Lauren grimaced. "Wait. Don't answer that."

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Camila stood in the mirror at her hotel, assessing her outfit to be sure that it said friendly yet firm, wise and yet open. Today she'd sit down with the whole band and plot out some venues and markets they should be going after. She frowned a little, her eyes squinting and one side of her mouth drawing down as she looked at her reflection. Maybe she should just go with something short.

She pulled off the gray skirt she had tried on and reached for a form-fitting peach dress. It would set off her complexion and draw attention to her without being overtly sexual. After yesterday, she didn't need anything reminding her of sex. As it was, she was afraid she'd take the image of Lauren Jauregui having her way with that groupie to her grave. Camila shook her head, still embarrassed by it all, and reached down to grab a pair of matching pumps. With one last flip of her chocolate hair, she turned around and walked out of the room.

When Lauren walked in the room, she looked around and sighed. Why me? she thought. She was the last one to the meeting; she could see that by the single empty chair left at their favorite table near the bar. It really wasn't a surprise given the monumental amount of effort it took to get out of bed, get showered, and put on a pair of torn jeans, some sort of rumpled t-shirt she was able to reach first, and a flannel with the sleeves ripped off. She felt exactly how she looked. Ripped and shredded.

As she glanced to the stunning blonde next to Craig, she saw them. Blueberry eyes that bored right back into her own, concern laced in each blink of the thick lashes.

She hated blueberries.

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A month into the summer between her sophomore and junior year at Stanford, Lauren was walking downtown in San Francisco, enjoying the breeze blowing on the coast that hadn't kicked up on campus. Her new band had a gig tonight that paid real money up front, and she'd decided to visit San Fran a little early for a reprieve from the stifling stillness that had settled in the valley. Serendipity was opening for a much better-known band called Littlepools, but that was okay with her. They had officially made it out of the coffee house scene, and now she and her friends would begin seeing the fruits of their labor. Backstage access was a luxury she couldn't otherwise afford as a college student on a swimming scholarship.

Lauren slid behind a tall gentleman in line at a sidewalk cafe. When he paid for his order and moved out of the way, she began to speak before looking up. "I'd like a blueberry-" She faltered as she finally glanced at the girl waiting on her at the counter. "-eyes." She finished, blinking rapidly.

"You want blueberry eyes? Yeah, we're fresh out of them." The young girl grinned. She had waves upon waves of blonde hair in every color of gold and yellow and nearly white. The face her hair framed- high cheekbones, full lips, a perfect nose- It knocked the wind out of Lauren but what really made her breathless was the girl's blue eyes- the exact color of her favorite berry.

This is gonna be a good day, Lauren thought as she winked at the girl and flashed a flirtatious grin, glad that her luck was still holding.

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Carrie. Her beautiful dream, her wonderful tormentor. Lauren almost buckled with the effort it took to look away, and Carrie made an instinctive move to get up, to go to Lauren, but a gentle hand from Craig on her leg kept her in her place. Lauren was in no state to have a civil conversation, and after two years and several beer bottles thrown at him, Craig knew it was best to avoid any contact between Lauren and Carrie until Lauren could bury the demons back down inside her.

Camila watched the subtle tableau play out among the band members, transfixed by the look on Lauren's face before she turned around, went to the bar, and ordered a drink. Camila could feel the dread grow inside her. This was that unnamable force pushing down on the band, threatening its members', and her own, future.