Becoming Lauren Campbell

Prologue: Exit Wounds

Prime Time Emmys After Party – Los Angeles -- September

What do you do when the man you're in love with breaks your heart? What do you do when that man is your best friend and you don't want to lose him? What do you do when you walk into a room and across that room, you see him with a woman draped around him? What do you do when you feel like everything you've felt and thought was a lie? What do you when you lose the one person you never thought you'd lose? How do you pick up the pieces to move on and start over? How do you forget the first person who ever graced the sheets of your sacred kingdom? How? How do you hide the pain? How do you pretend to be okay when he rips your heart out right in front of you? How do you feel when he never chooses you? What do you do when you have nothing left to give after giving yourself to a man that never fully intended to give himself to you?

Lauren Campbell stood in front of the man who'd captured her heart less than a decade ago, Quincy Parker, a starving artist that prided himself on being misunderstood and justifiably cold. She couldn't put into words how she was feeling—at least not at this moment. She focused on him, wondering where she'd went wrong—wondering why she wasn't good enough. They'd been friends for years and although they blurred the lines, their friendship was the basis for anything that was yet to come. On what was supposed to be the best night of Lauren's writing career, she was outside in the lobby of the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel wondering why she'd even fell in love in the first place while the cast of her now Emmy Award winning show partied and celebrated their win. She was focused on him, the illusive Quincy Parker.

Quincy was a mystery, often inducing Lauren's curiosity. He was handsome, a bit taller than her with caramel brown skin, chocolate brown eyes, and shoulder length espresso brown dreads that she once hated but now adored. His smile often lit up her day and his gaze always caused her to blush. He was a collection of questions and conspiracies. She wondered about him often, trying to figure out why he was the way he was. She'd heard stories about him in the past and the dark things he was capable of but, she'd never imagined that she'd be on the receiving end of the venomous betrayal that was about to be birthed from his rosy lips—nor did she imagine losing him, at least not this way.

Lauren swallowed, feeling a lump growing in her throat as he cleared his, gearing up to explain the moment she'd witnessed in the ballroom less than ten minutes ago. He took a deep breath, searching his mind for the right words to say. This was going to hurt regardless but, the right words had to be said or the end would be met. He had to explain why he'd been distant, why he'd been ignoring her recent calls, why everything was different between them now. What started off innocent was about to meet a tragic end.

She knew that the words about to grace his lips would pierce her soul. She wasn't prepared and although she'd been trying to process her thoughts about witnessing him locking lips were a tawny brown woman with curly hair and red lips, she wasn't prepared for the pain that would follow. She held her elbows, bracing herself for the worst, attempting to calm the numb feeling she felt lingering at her fingertips.

"There's a girl." He began, letting out a breath. He could see the exact moment Lauren's heart began to break. The spark in her russet brown eyes settled as they became glazed in growing tears. Her face cracked a little as she furrowed her brows. "I've liked her for a long time. We've been talking for a few months. That's who you saw me kissing in there."

Lauren didn't say anything. Her thoughts raced as her anxiety took refuge on her shoulders. Her mind collided with her feelings. The lump in her throat grew more as she fought back tears, swallowing. They'd spent the last year together only for her to win the title of second best.

"Lauren—," He began. She blinked a few times, attempting to clear the tears from her eyes.

"—You've been talking to her for a few months? Were you talking to her while we were...?" She asked, piecing everything together. She glanced over his shoulder, looking into the ballroom at the woman who'd captured his heart. She looked down, piecing the puzzle together. All the messages that were left on read or seen, all the times he'd never let her look at his phone, all the excuses for why he couldn't see her, why they were so distant. Everything was starting to make sense. Everything was starting to hurt.