lena ♢ c.d + j.g

twenty two

monday, 4:23 pm - april 18th

lena evans

"cameron?" i shout, hoping to hear a response.

...nothing. i sigh, setting my stuff on the counter after taking my phone out of my purse.

i can't believe he didn't tell me about this rachel girl.

then again, i guess he isn't obligated to, we haven't discussed being in a relationship, which i'm not sure i want.

from what i remember, we're 'more than friends.'

whatever that means.

i dial a number and place my phone up to my ear, listening to it ring as i walk in my room.

he picks up, "2 calls in one day? what a record, baby."

"shut up, i need you to film with me."

"you need me to?"

"cam isn't here, so yeah, i do."

"oh, so i'm you're second choice? wow."

"no, you're just the only other guy that's rumored to be my boyfriend."

"yeah, sure."

"jaack." i whine, gaining a chuckle.

"fine, i'll be there in a few."

"oh shit, jack?"

"yes?"

"can you get 2 ring lights? i left mine at my old place."

"doesn't cameron have one?"

"i don't know, and if i did, i don't know where it is. can you just get them please?"

"yeah, i guess."

"thanks..wait!"

"fuck, lena, what now?"

"um, i'd prefer an attitude change, thank you. anyways, i think you should just pick me up and i'll do a vlog, it's easier."

"whatever works."

"oh, and should i shower? i like my outfit, but i've been on the beach all day."

"i don't know."

"why are you acting like that, it's very bothersome."

he chuckles, "bothersome? what the hell?"

"that's beside the point, what's wrong?"

"nothing, you're just really indecisive right now and it's 'very bothersome,' as you'd say."

"whatever, see you in a few." i say before hanging up and tossing my phone on the bed, walking in my closet to pick blue boyshorts out of the drawer.

after that long day on the beach, i actually do need a relaxing shower right now, otherwise i won't do it later.

i turn on the water and strip down to nothing before tying my hair up and getting in.

as i start to wash my body, i realize i don't have any music on, making me groan.

guess i have to sing to myself, the trash old fashioned way.

"open up to me, that's all you gotta do!" i belt out the words to swap it out by my boo, justin.

the whole world knows journals is a bop, i don't care.

"i can show ya' what i'm talkin' 'bouut, be obliged just to show ya' ho-" the doorbell rings, interrupting my singing fest.