Strangeness and Charm

A Good Reason To Go

Prompt:
"5h in studio months after camila left and camila happens to be in the same studio for solo work. lauren meets her in the bathroom after all this time. i let you decide how the dynamic was between them after c left. also i would prefer if they hooked up but you know.. you are the writer you could make it a little hard on us :P :) pleaseeee write this"
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AN: In this story, it was Camila's choice to leave the group. Nothing about manipulative label narrative. She simply had a reason to go.

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Camila's PoV

Five months, eight days, three hours, seven hundred twenty seven seconds, a million tears shed on my pillow during too many sleepless nights, four and a half panic attacks, and one battered heart breaking into thousand little pieces over and over again.

That's the real answer I will never give anyone if they asked me how I was after I officially left Fifth Harmony. Usually, I just smile and say I'm doing well -- people don't expect any other answer anyway. Hi, hello, how are you, I'm fine, thank you! It's a social routine that I'm so sick and tired of, but, hey, it's a less bitter pill to swallow than the truth. The hard truth that when I left the group, I thought I was gonna be able to finally breathe, but only to find out that the sudden loss, the sudden emptiness, the pain of longing could render me half-alive.

Sure, most of the time, I am okay. I feel freer career-wise; I write my own songs and meet new people who help me grow as an artist -- I'm living the dream, aren't I? To pursue a solo career, make music the way I want it to be, and grow into an artist I could be proud of -- that has always been the dream, right? I definitely feel fulfilled, or at least I'm getting there.

So why do I feel like I'm missing half of myself?

Why do I feel like I'm going through the motions, sometimes waking up in the morning with a suffocating heaviness in my chest, as if my inner demons are sitting atop me and choking me. There are days when I have to push myself to count one to ten as I try to breathe deeply, to cleanse my lungs and soul of the darkness that has polluted my entire being from another restless night.

Why do I drag my feet, like a mindless zombie in search of human flesh, trying to convince myself that I made the right choice in walking another path? That I made the correct decision of leaving my bandmates, my first love, and the dream that we shared which I helped build slowly for almost five years?

Everyday, I convince myself that I have chosen the right path for me. It has to be the right one, because fuck me in the ass, if it isn't then all this shit I have endured was all for nothing. All this sadness, guilt, and regrets that are constantly pooling in my chest whenever I miss my old life which I choose to ignore, convincing myself that it's worth it, would then be just one masochistic ride with no final destination.

Why am I so emo today, anyway? I blame my little sister, Sofi, for that because last night while I mindlessly strum my guitar, tweaking a few melodies for an unfinished song I have been writing, she comes bouncing into my room, turning on the television screaming "Valmani" non-stop.

I know what Mani and Val would be performing, I also know that the girls will be there. And I most definitely know that watching it would be another masochistic twist of the knife already stuck in my heart, and that's why I didn't wanna see it. It's also why I refrained from going to Twitter, with an alibi that I'm stuck in the studio making my album, because I'm pretty sure I'll be flooded, as always, of mentions and links reminding me of my past.