tour sucks (lauren jauregui)

eight - club

an: it's getting messy 👻

She should've deleted Twitter, she thinks, and Instagram, and the internet in general.

They had a show maybe a night or two ago, and Lauren made the mistake of going on Twitter after to see the fan reactions. Of course, people loved it, but as she's learned, there's always the one percent that wiggles their way into conversations.

The comments are mostly superficial, like huh, Lauren's gained weight, when she knows it's just her period, or Lauren's hair is dumb, she should've stayed brunette. It's not something she spends too much time thinking about.

Either way, she sees fans calling them out and is grateful for that, but she still hates that sometimes she'll look in the mirror and agree. Her hair does look stupid, she did gain that weight back that she was trying to lose.

At least when she and Camila were together she knew she was beautiful to someone, but now that she's single again, it's really hard.

(And sure, fans are nice and they tell her she's beautiful, but it means a lot less when they're not exactly her family and friends and potential partners.)

She hates it, she hates it, she hates it.

This evening's staring session is interrupted by Dinah pounding at the door, pleading Lauren to "get the fuck out, I have to pee!"

She leaves their hotel bathroom, she and Dinah are sharing again, and Dinah rushes in behind her, muttering something about her bladder bursting and what the hell is Lauren doing in there?

Lauren just snorts, running a hand through her hair and laying down on her bed. Maybe it's 8 pm, but who would really care if she fell asleep right now? No one really cares about what she does unless it's damaging to her image, so no one would, but maybe going to bed so early would damage her whole badass thing.

Not that she cares, really, except for it is integral to her not getting her ass beat. (Metaphorically, of course.)

Dinah comes out of the bathroom a couple of minutes later, "Oh what are you doing? We're not sleeping right now."

"I'm tired," Lauren whines, pouting at Dinah.

"Tough shit, Mila's little white boy's in town and apparently has the ability to get us into a club down the road," Dinah responds, rifling through her suitcase (presumably for something cute to wear).

"Isn't he like sixteen?" Lauren crinkles her nose, not making any effort to move. As much as she'd love to dissolve her frustrations in alcohol, she really doesn't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow. Not to mention, the last time she got drunk she fucked Camila, and she doesn't want to repeat that.

"I don't know," Dinah retorts, "what I do know is that I want some shit bar food and to hit on some cute boys. Or have them hit on me, whatever."

Lauren cringes at the idea of men hitting on her, "Why don't you ever get drunk at these things?"

"Not worth it," Dinah responds, "plus if I don't get drunk, I remember all of it and get to recount all of my stories without the excuse of me being too drunk to remember."

Lauren snorts, some things are worth not remembering. "You do you, babe, I just want to sleep."

"Too bad," Dinah throws a black dress at her, one of Lauren's favorites (and she knows Dinah knows that), "get dressed, we're leaving in twenty."

"D, I really don't want to," Lauren whines as Dinah quickly strips and puts on a dress of her own, clearly not understanding how gay Lauren is and how hot she is (not like in the predator way, just in the holy shit her best friends are hot way).