I wish I felt the same.. \\•Fitz x Swaggersouls•//

Chapter 9

~ERICS POV~
It's been a week. Cameron hasn't left his bedroom.

He's called uber eats for everyone one of his meals (which hasn't been many). We all think he's sick and doesn't want to be around us but we really aren't sure.

I tried going in to talk to him, but he's either been asleep or yells at me to leave. I just want to help him.

...what's going on with him...
Trying to get something out of the others is like talking to a fucking wall. They don't give me the answers I'm looking for. I ask what happened the night of the club and they either ignore me or say they don't know.

Which I know is a lie.

The guy I try to talk to the most is Toby cause I know him and Cam are close. But even he won't give me a direct answer. He just shoos me off.

I need to figure out what's happening with Cameron.

~CAMS POV~
I want to die.
I can't do this anymore.
I don't know what's happening to me.

I've hit a real low in my life. I'm not even sure why, but I have. This past week, I haven't left my bedroom. I haven't had a need to.

Toby or Jay bring me my food, I have my bed, my television, my computer, my bathroom.
My razor...

I have everything I need.
And more.

My health has depleted rapidly...after only barely eating once a day and drinking (not even) a cup of water. My face has slightly sunken in. I haven't shaven.

My arms look awful. So do my legs.
I've had to throw away two of my razors already after breaking them.

All I've worn is sweat pants and a hoodie with socks. No shoes cause what's the point. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

Eric has tried talking to me. When I'm not in my bed, I yell at him to get out. He leaves calmly without arguing, surprisingly.

When I am in bed, I pretend to be asleep. But really, I've slept a total of 4 hours this week.

I don't want help. I don't need help.

I don't deserve help...

I don't respond to the guys texts, calls, emails.
There's not really a point.

I haven't made a video in over a month, causing my fans to get pissed. But who cares. I don't know them. They don't know me.

You could say I'm sick. Sick in the head? Mentally sick? Emotionally sick? I'd say yes to them all.

Like I've said before, I'm not too sure why I feel like this. It kinda just happened.

Right now, I'm sitting in my chair, looking through my comments on YouTube, reading all the positive ones, trying to get motivation to do something. But to no result.

I push my mouse away and turn my seat around to face my door after hearing a small knock.

The third effing time today
I swear if it's Eric.

I call out a soft "Come in". To my surprise, Jaren and John walk into the room. My eyes open wide and I pull the sleeves of my hoodie down.

"Oh my god...Cameron. You're worse than I thought you'd be." Jaren says lowly, looking around at the mess on my bedroom floor. "Nice to see you too, Smit." I say, managing a non-humorous chuckle.

I can tell by Johns face that he was instantly uncomfortable being here. Like he felt he was invading on something. "Cameron...are you alright man?" John mutters, looking me in the eyes, before sitting down on the corner of the bed followed by Jaren.

I didn't respond right away, instead, I looked down at the floor and bit at my chapped lips, sighing.

"I've been better..." I croak after a bit.
Nice answer

Jaren shakes his head and curses under his breath, causing my cheeks to flush from anxiety. My leg began to bounce. "Can we help in any way?" Jaren asked, looking from me, to John, and back at me.

It was my turn to shake my head. "No. I don't want anyone's help. I can deal with this on my own." I say sternly.

He raises up his hands in a surrender. "Alright, I understand, just, call us if you need anything." Jaren states.

The two leave, shutting the door and leaving me alone once more. My thoughts all came rushing to me at once, throwing me out of wack.

What have they been saying about me?
Do they know what I've done?
It's all my fault.
I can't fix this.

Can't fix what!? I'm going crazy!!

As my mind gets taken over with my thoughts, my emotions start to over flow as well, causing sharp tears to sting my eyes. I didn't try to stop them as they rolled down my burning cheeks.

I let out a shaky sigh, closing my eyes, squeezing out more salty tears. That sigh turned into a sob that turned into a fit.

I threw myself onto the bed and put my pillow over my face, crying out into it. I tried to form words, but they were just coming out as moans and wheezes.

Look at me, the once happy, energetic, go-lucky guy, crying into his pillow and cutting himself for who knows what reason.

How pathetic....

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😭
Yay another sad story!
BUT OMG GUYS, y'all are so amazing! I'm just getting more reads and votes everyday! It's insane! Thank all of you so much. I really appreciate it! And thank you to those of you who comment very nice things. Makes me feel good about myself! 😅

-Emily 💗👋