Serendipity (Camren)

Chapter 6: The News

Sometimes, only one person is missing, and the whole world seems depopulated." -Alphonse de Lamartine
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"She can't be missing. She was in a recording studio with you," Camila paused to look at her watch, "twenty hours ago. I haven't even gone to bed yet, Craig." As she said it, she felt the mist of exhaustion slowly creep into her lungs and under her eyelids. "Where was she last?"

"Well, she was at the Haven with Carrie-"

Suddenly there was a rustling on the other end if the line and what sounded like a struggle. "She's gone. Carrie is a fuckface, and Lauren is gone." It was Lucy's impatient voice and colorful language on the line now.

"People have to be missing twenty-four hours before you can even file a police report. Let's just all relax and tell me what happened." Camila sighed wearily. She hadn't slept, and her bed was losing its place in her future. She wanted to sob.

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Lauren sat wearily, propped up by crossed arms resting on her favorite table in the Haven. Her forearms stuck to it because the bar owner refused to buy real cleaner, and he kept using the same dirty dishtowel all day. By the time the lunch crowd dissipated, the grunge from all the tables had melded into a sticky substance that was then periodically rubbed back onto the tables. Now that it was night, the sludge was at its most potent.

Her throat felt scratchy, and when she ordered a whiskey, her voice came out rougher than normal. She'd need a few days off after the recording session to rest it and recover for their next show, but the demo they cut sounded great. Lauren begrudgingly admitted that Camila had chosen a good studio with knowledgeable sound engineers. In another life, Lauren might have gotten along with Camila. She's smart, attractive- hell, who am I kidding? Camila is a fucking knockout and she has her shit together, Lauren thought, the slightest smile pulling up one side of her mouth.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?"

The voice caught Lauren off guard and instantly her grin disappeared. "It doesn't matter," she whispered, looking up at Carrie, who was standing next to her.

Carrie reached out and put a hand on Lauren's shoulder, "Can we talk?"

The heat from Carrie's hand felt like a healing balm and a bruising punch all at the same time. "I'd rather not."

"I know, but I need to talk to you." Carrie sat down, her hand never leaving Lauren's shoulder, her other hand coming up to Lauren's chin, lifting it and pulling it toward her. "You look like I'm torturing you."

Lauren's laugh came out more like a growl. "It hurts to talk to you, Carrie."

"Baby-"

"Don't, Carrie. Fucking don't."

"I'm pregnant."

The tear inside Lauren was so great and catastrophic that she could feel the blood gushing through her body, roiling in her stomach and weighing down her extremities. The sudden end in her heart was mortal, and she ripped herself away from Carrie's hands so that she could die alone, as all wounded animals are wont to do.

"Lauren, please. Please be happy for us. This is the right time. If everything Camila says is true, the band will be able to support us."

The blood continued to rush through Lauren, muffling her hearing. It must have made her stand up and walk out because suddenly that's what she was doing, and she didn't remember thinking about it. There must have been blood running from her eyes because her cheeks were wet and the street looked like a poorly restored old movie, choppy and blurry.