How Are You True?

Chapter 1: Why Did You Even Come Back?

A/N: Get ready for a loong, wild ride. We have Sabrina's story, Nate's story, Blaire's story, Madison and María, Dinah, you get it. You know the drill with Camren, be patient. I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this book.

2024 update: This isn't even supposed to be the official version, I changed a lot of the story irl and intended to complete it after I got engaged and shit, but here it is now just in case your girl gets killed soon and the FBI can't protect me. Enjoy. :)

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March 1st, 2032
Friday, 7:00am - Cabello-Jauregui Estate

"When you walked through the door, it was clear to me; you're the one they adore—who they came to see. You're a rockstar, baby, everybody wants you. Player, who can really blame you? We're the ones who made you."

Breakfast was the best part of the weekdays for Camila Cabello-Jauregui. Every morning meant waking up the girls in the most obnoxious way possible, enjoying it, getting them ready—although it wasn't exactly the easiest task at hand—to look like their best selves, then blasting music to get her going to cook breakfast. Cooking for Catalina and Blaire was one of the greatest pleasures that came with being a mother. It was therapeutic in a way. True, Lauren moved the team of chefs she had in their former home over to their new home, but they were always dismissed in the mornings unless it was the weekend. This was her time with her kids.

Camila whipped the spatula around while dancing with each step she took around the kitchen, wearing her blue floral silk robe tied at the front and white slides on her feet. When the 30 year old mixed the pancake batter, she accidentally got some of the powder on her cheek that she wasn't aware of. This led to her greeting Catalina with a warm 'buenos dias' and a vibrant smile—that indicated she was pleased to see her daughter dressed in the clothes she picked out—while Catalina gave her a dirty/confused look. The six year old wondered if her mom was oblivious to her messy cooking or if she just didn't care.

Catalina kept her eyes locked on her mother while slowly climbing up to sit on one of the high chairs at the island. "Mom?"

"Yes?" Camila flipped a pancake then gave it a few pats before turning to take a plate from the dish rack.

"Your face is messy," she pointed out blatantly. Camila glanced over her shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. "Just saying."

"Are you calling me ugly?" Camila turned back around and dropped the two pancakes onto the red plate designated for the six year old patiently waiting to eat.

"No. I mean you have pancake powder on your face," Catalina giggled. "It's all over your cheeks."

"That's because soy una payasa," Camila said with an underlying tone of seriousness to it. She dropped some berries onto the syrup she poured over the stacked cakes, placed a small colourful fork onto the plate, then handed it to Catalina. "Eat up, princesa. If you want apple juice or orange juice, we're out of it. You're just gonna have to drink water or grape juice." (I'm a clown)

"That's fine. I want grape juice. Thank you, mommy," the little girl cheesed and tossed her head side to side to the beat of the song as she stabbed at her pancakes. Camila nodded then went back to making Blaire's plate of strawberry eggo waffles, bacon, and one lump of scrambled eggs.

"The enforcer, looking for more women to torture. Walk up to the cutest girl and Charlie Horse her. Sorry Portia, but what's Ellen DeGeneres have that I don't? Are you telling me tenderness? Well I can be as gentle and as smooth as a gentleman. Give me my Ventolin inhaler and two Excedrin and I'll invite Sarah Palin out to dinner then nail her. 'Baby say hello to my little friend'," Camila rapped with Eminem playing from her bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter. She shook her ass and whipped her head side to side, her hair flying with each shake.