Breaking Hollywood [CAMREN]

Chapter 33

Camila

"Mila."

I hear the distant sound of Harry's voice, and then a hand shakes my shoulder.

"What? Fuck off. I'm sleeping," I mumble, rolling away, laying my arm over my eyes.

"Camila, get the fuck up." That's Shawn's voice.

I drag my arm off my face and blink wearily against the morning light.

As I look up, I see the faces of Harry, Shawn, and Dinah.

"Ugh. Jesus. What the fuck do you three want?" I roll onto my side, away from them, facing the back of the sofa. "And how the hell did you get into my apartment?"

"I have a key, remember?" Harry says.

Someone sits on the sofa by my legs.

I open an eye and see it's Harry.

The look on his face. It looks a lot like disappointment. And it cuts right through me.

He knows. They all know.

Of course they do. It has to be all over the news by now.

CAMILA CABELLO, EX-GIGOLO AND DAUGHTER OF MURDERERS

What a fucking headline. I bet the press has been pissing themselves with excitement.

I pull my anger on and wear it like a protective shield. "Don't look at me like that, Harry."

"I'm not looking at you like anything."

"The hell you are." I sit up, resting my back against the arm of the sofa, bending my knees up so that I can rest my elbows on them, and I scrub my hands over my face. "I don't need your judgment right now, so if that's what you all came here for, then you know where the door is."

"We're not here to judge you." Shawn sits on the coffee table across from me. He pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket. Gets two out. Lights one up and passes it to me, and then lights one for himself.

"Mila, we're here because we're your friends, and we wanted to make sure you were okay," Dinah says from her spot where she's standing, leaning against the window.

Right where I was standing last night when I got the call that changed everything.

"Or did you just come to look at the freak?"

"Mila..." Harry's voice is a warning.

I spot a quart of vodka left in the bottle I started on last night. I reach down and grab it from the floor. The cap's already off, so I take a good drink.

When I'm finished, three sets of eyes are watching me.

"What?" I put my cigarette in my mouth.

"Should you be drinking right now?" Dinah says.

"I think drinking is exactly what I should be doing right now."

"Mila, speaking from experience, drinking yourself into a coma isn't going to help anything," Shawn says.

"Advice from the ex-junkie. Just what I need." I roll my eyes and then drain the vodka before tossing the bottle to the floor.

Shawn doesn't react. But, still, I feel like a jackass. But I'm too far gone in my own pain to feel anything of real substance right now, so the emotion is gone before it can turn into guilt.

Shawn takes a drag of his smoke and flicks the ash into the ashtray. "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say that because I know what it's like to be in pain and want to dull it with the nearest substance. And you were the only one who was there for me when I needed help. So, you get a free pass, Mila. You get as many free passes as you need."