Miss Cabello

The Meeting

"FUCKING BULLSHIT! THAT LITTLE MISS FUCKTARD!" Breathing raggedly, Lauren threw the bottle of Gout de Diamants on the wall. It was the 6th bottle she wasted, without drinking any of its content. Lauren continued to loom over them furiously, allowed herself to feel no other sign of emotion. Mistress. Cheating. Pregnant. Into that last word she flicked her anger upon breaking yet another bottle.

But beyond that little fire of rage was a broken woman.

Lauren has never felt so betrayed, so alone in her entire life. Her heart is shattered, crushed into as many pieces as the bottles she threw. She hated her husband, hated her, how could they destroy the loyalty and commitment she and Mateo had promised in front of the altar? Her tortured cries and shouts echoed throughout the wine cellar. She suffered a moment of madness, or was it insanity?

As she was about to throw the 8th one, she heard a noise by the door.

"Mrs. Alegria." It was Grace, their one and only housekeeper. Grace was almost 60, but had the physique of a woman in her forties. She had been Lauren's nanny since she was a child, and not once did she see the pale girl like this... uncontrolled, and wild. Lauren raised the bottle above her head, aiming it towards...somewhere, anywhere. The familiar scorch of tears just behind her eyes, slightly blurring her vision. "That's enough, Lauren."

Her defensive wall was crumbling into nothingness. She sank down on the floor, succumbing into her inner world of turmoil and despair. Grace found herself by Lauren's side, engulfing her into a tight embrace. A woman without a home, without a purpose, without anyone to care if she lived or die. The instinct of survival is the only thing keeping her alive.

"Why, Grace? Why does this need to happen?" Lauren looked at her pleadingly, waiting for an answer. Grace surveyed her through weary eyelids, Lauren's eyes were marked with horror, and if she was not mistaken- yearning despite what happened. Lauren and Mateo have been together since high school, and being replaced, cheated upon with a woman would be too much of a venom for her own good. What more when her husband travelled from east to west coast just to meet with her?

Grace swallowed and said again, "That's enough. He is not worth your tears. None of them are." As if something snapped within Lauren, she stopped crying almost immediately. She tore herself away from Grace and brought herself on her own feet.

"When does she arrive, Grace?" Her tone indicated something else. Grace shivered.

"In about a week or so."

Lauren would make her life a living hell once she arrived in New York.

-- -- -- -- --

For the whole week, Lauren had been keeping a vigil on the stranger. Camila Cabello. Never had she predicted a name could sound so ugly to a human. She couldn't even say it aloud without an itch to her tongue. So she decided to call her something else, something that would properly showcase her...doing. Chippie, a perfect name for the perfect slut. (AN: Chippie means whore, slut or prostitute)

She sent Grace to the airport to fetch Camila, for she was from San Francisco. Though she wanted Camila to arrive on her own, Grace insisted to go get her, in case she gets lost. Something Lauren would be happy to hear about.

Her own mansion with a dirty whore. She had not wanted this. The idea was abhorrent in a way that she could be reminded for the next nine months that this was the woman her husband fucked.

She sat on the chair near the fireplace inside the living room, waiting. She set her teeth as she endured the past days knowing she had been cheated upon, and the other woman is pregnant. Isn't life just lovely?

The hours wore on, and they still haven't arrived.

"Where in fuck's world are they now?" She took a deep breath, as if to stall the other curses to tumble across her lips. As she was about to call her butler, she had been hindered by the gentle noise outside the door, sounds of footsteps floated towards her from a distance. The footsteps increased in volume and she became aware of the pounding in her head, coursing throughout her body. The door opened, and her whole body went stiff. Grace appeared before her and behind her, a woman.

She was a couple inches shorter than Lauren, with tan skin, and a scared expression on her face. Soft, brown eyes grabbed Lauren's attention. She couldn't blink as Camila came into view. Her dark brunette hair was carefully gathered on one side of her neck, and she wore a white dress, with a cardigan over her upper torso.

"Lauren, this is Miss Cabello." Grace leads Camila to sit in front of her. Camila couldn't hold eye contact with the wife of the man she had an affair for the past months.

"Oh, so you're Camila." The words jerked out of Lauren like a poison as Grace left them alone. "Oh, Camila, what a joke- what a mess you have brought upon us both." Camila wouldn't look at her. "Why can't you look at me, Ca-mee-la? It's an act of courtesy to look at the woman who will provide you a house to stay in for the whole remainder of your pregnancy. Don't be shy, I know you had sex with him. Was it good? Did he give you mind-blowing orgasms?"

Camila had her cheeks a flaming scarlet. She was pensive hearing such words from the wife herself. She couldn't blame Lauren tho, she had blame it all to herself.

"How many months are you in?" Lauren asked, propping her elbows on her knees, leaning her chin on her hands.

"Huh?" It was the first word she ever said and Lauren had to laugh at how dumb she sounded.

"Are you deaf? How. Many. Months. Are. You. In." Lauren repeated the words through gritted teeth.

"A couple of weeks." Camila had her arms wrapped protectively around her belly, appearing very disoriented. Camila looked up and all she saw was hatred and despise. Her uneasiness was plain to see, she could not hide it from Lauren.

"Don't worry, I won't bite. Come, I'll show you your room." Lauren stood up and walked, motioning Camila to follow. As they walked around the mansion, Camila took in the simplicity yet extravagance of it. Well, one would expect it from a billionaire couple. They climbed a set of stairs, reaching the second floor. When Camila thought her room would be there, they went up to another set of stairs by the far end corner of the hallway. Just in front of the top of the stair was a door. The attic.

The space was tight it could only fit a mattress. There was no cabinet, no bathroom, just that. The ceiling was quite low that she still had to duck her head a little to walk around. This was far from what Mateo had in mind for her, but he was long gone. Lauren had the cards on her hands now.

"So, this is your room. If you wanna take a shit or do whatever bathing fuckshits you need to do, the bathroom is just by the stairs below. You are not to leave this house unless Grace or Esteban, the butler, is with you, understand?" Lauren asked in a commanding tone.

Camila nodded. They both stood there for a while, letting the silence take over the whole room. Camila looked intently at Lauren, feeling sorry for what she has done. She should have just--- No. She shook her head. What has happened, happened. No turning back now. "Th-thank you." Saying her thanks was the least she could do.

"Go suck a dick, Chippie."