This Ain't a Fairytale ➳ caмʀҽŋ au

v - good actress (1)

a/n:  Camren au school days, full angst ahead!! The next chap. is interconnected with this one so make sure you've read it.

You've seen a fight side of her too, those girls you saw at the movie made a victim out of you. A version of the movie Mean girls in your campus scurries away, when you become Camila's — something (at first you don't know if its  a friend or...Whatever it is, you never felt the need to have her labeled and outlined, ...- she's just ... - there)

(For all your troubles worth, she's there and She's now stuck with you like a cactus but more tamed version and less of a prick). Camila never asks if you're comfortable with her, because she knows you could tell - she could tell, from how you smiled at her at school from time to time. Camila returns a small smile, a sort of understanding that she's never leaving your side anytime soon - last names worth aside. She could tell by the way you call her Camz, always searching for her eyes- cheering at the side of the bleachers every time you hit a homerun.

You're too annoyed to even argue with their relentless ass- to tell them that you are one of her - is it friends? Side-kick? ... worst you hear is - Suck up bitch - which you heard from the hallway lockers (not really shush whispers but) daily gossip.

A unique sort of friendship much to be defined- as you later on you became something more than that -As special as it is, Love like the two of you have never came off as easy.

You hold her for so long when she cries, how the toll of lying to herself and her sexuality apparent like it is. The constant reaffirmation needed when her parents wanted her to date this guy or hire another bachelor to hook up for marriage and play happy couple with their daughter. The scrutinizing effect of having to live in that household always hits her close, but she says that having Lauren Jauregui at her side makes it all bearable.

Your friendship is different but bearable.

The circumstance for your friendship with her is bearable too - In much worse days You have to prepare yourself as Camila has the need to participate in those so called game of, "acting like she doesn't even know you outside school campus". Questions game of "how come she never introduces you to any of her friends?" And she never really has too - you never like any of her posh fake friends anyway, so you don't bother.

What bothers you is that you're falling for her- fast. You never chose to fall in love with Camila. But you fell in love with her. You didn't want to, but it happened anyway.

****

You are up ahead in class (also ahead in your daydreams of her) when it blows up in your face.

Your first major fight with Camila happened in the first week of February (one week before Valentine's Day.) You know how she loves theater and you know her schedule - memorize it from the back of your hands. No shit! You literally have her schedule taped at the back of your right palm, because you're sweating all day and don't want the ink to run and rewrite a smudge paper all over again. And you can neither type it in your phone because your only phone broke weeks ago, still don't have enough money for repair (and neither guts to ask your parents to pay - having hit financial rubble that month)

She has practice with the crowd of cool kids, posh but not geeky type of actors on the theater guild. You see her their with her same smile - except not quite reaching her eyes. But you know she's on her own element when you observe how her smile and body glows -passion through her veins, her presence and voice commanding you to listen. Delivering her lines effectively, rendering the crowd, even her class director - speechless.

She's in fact THAT good. Even your whole body agrees as you stood-up - without your control - slow clapping, with a matching standing ovation. Your mouth hangs ajar - then you realize you're the only one clapping at the back row of red posh chairs, inside the slightly dimmed theater.

You cough embarrassingly as Camila hides her blush and giggles at you onstage.

Yeah Goo Camz- Yeah, THAT'S my... I'M her best friend!!!! Your voice echoes through the expanse of the room, slow clapping your way through.

Are you done Miss? Her professor throws daggers over her reading glasses, sharpness at her voice aimed at you for interrupting their rehearsals. (As If she's disgusted and ready to throw you out of the theatre) You bowed your head ever lower.

"Uhmm yeah...so uhh... I'm just gonna..." - you point both indexes at the chair "- sit,here. "

"Ahem. Yes. Yes! co-continue, Continue -". You wave an exaggerated hand to their direction, imitating a posh accent. You took a seat with a slight flush from your cheek, but it's all worth it when Camila's grin became a full beam.

You came closer on-stage, adjusting  to the  front row seat - tilting your head up to view the side of the stage, a good angle to admire Camila's performance.

You cleared your head full of thoughts of Camila being your own Prince Charming.

You could have watched her all day, enthralled by HER; the line of her lips as it curves into a smile, a frown, a sexy smirk, - the way her voice and eyes and heart cries with her whole body, conveying an emotional line. At this point, you haven't even known the title of her play or recall the story of the whole play itself, but you know her character's name is Marceline. And her eyes are very much the only thing you notice - in-character bloodshot eyes with tears, and so is her hoarse but sexy voice and so are her glossy li-ohhellnoooo!! What the actual fuck!!!

Her LIPS. Camila's lips, as you watch her painstakingly, acting on the side of the stage. It caught you off guard, those glossy lips of your best friend you've envisioned kissing for a while, are now attached to that boy with sandy hair.

A very deep unfriendly feeling washes over you, (whatever his name is) you hate his rough hands holding Camila's waist. You hate how he caresses the side of her cheek, and how her hands move to the back of his nape, deepening the kiss.

You've dent your palms with crescent shapes - your own nails digging harder at your flesh. Your hands move down, now gripping both armrests so hard, - it's the only thing holding you offstage and breaking their little performance.

You breathe harder with every second watching her have an intimate kiss, in front of you. You're not prepared and it hurts so bad you wish you could rip off his head.

You crush your emotions- feelings of jealousy rages. Its - It's eating you alive..Its ... It's not ... - right. Not in place, and you're not even in the right position to feel this ravenous emotion. So you shut your eyes so hard, you wonder how it didn't (couldn't) bleed.

But your heart bleeds that day, so red- you thought you could paint the whole campus for Valentine's Day.

And after that, Well after that- is as if you feel your being shut down to the sides. Not watching anymore but having to act fine, as broken film replays- with that kissing scene inside your head, every time you close your eyes.

****

Camila finishes at 3 pm. She finds you with your backpack and sports bag sitting at the back door theatre.

You thought maybe 'I'm good of an actress too' as she gives you her adorable grin, proud like smile. She doesn't notice your forced happy expression and sad-longings written plainly at your face.

Does she notice, you love her? - Maybe not either.

Maybe I could also do performing arts , join theatre or maybe in that way I could kiss her.

You look at her lips for a brief second, Camila unaware of it. It's glossy again, her reapplied lip-gloss, beige and you imagine how it tastes -You shake your head furiously, eyes settled kicking the pebble at your feet.

You could still see it in the back of your head. And you couldn't let yourself think even longer of how many times she has done that scene, - the whole afternoon- after you left that theater brooding.

___________________________