Lost in Your Eyes

1

Camila lifts her feet up and props them over the coffee table as she munches on her tortilla chips and gets her daily dose of Lauren Jauregui. Her friends only know she likes her music but they don't know that at the end of every tiring day she takes a couple of minutes to relax and watch her music videos.

Right now, her favorite song, Used to This, is playing. Lauren has a lot of hit songs but it's the one Camila keeps coming back to. She likes the subtlety of the lyrics plus the singer's delicate voice that matches the melody and the piano. It's a far shift from her usual rock style but Camila finds the change admirable. The song is so perfect, it almost makes her feel loved.

And also, who wouldn't want to look at a very beautiful woman after all the stress they had during the day? Not that Lauren isn't 20 years older than her and-

The tiny sparkle from the corner of the couch catches Camila's attention, snatching her gaze away from her ultimate daydream. Her bag has opened a little after she haphazardly tossed it when she got home, revealing the little box a strange man gave to her this afternoon. Being a social worker means she gets to meet a lot of people and has to try her hardest to be nice even to suspicious ones so after internally deciding that the man is practically harmless, she accepts the unexpected gift.

She stretches her arm, snack forgotten for a while, and picks up the material. She didn't notice the silver patch over one side of it earlier and she stares at it now in wonder. She had thought it was a very small music box when the man had said it could bring immense joy in her life but when she couldn't find the opening, she lost interest and put it away inside her bag and went on to finish her work.

She traces a finger over the silver, wondering how she could have missed it in broad daylight when it's very shiny. She remembers only seeing plain brown when she first saw it. A few seconds later though, another new color appears, this time a brilliant gold. At first it's just a tiny dot at the upper left corner of the box but then more dots appear beside it and soon the entire patch has little dots in a random pattern over it.

"Soos?," Camila realizes the dots form letters and tries to read it. "But that's weird, that's not even an S."

She slides a finger over the markings, trying to figure out if there's something underneath it and finds it's as smooths as it was moments ago when it was still blank. An idea crosses her mind and she turns the box a hundred eighty degrees.

"2002? What doe-"

Suddenly a fierce light erupts from the numbers and all Camila can see is blinding white.

It seems to last only a few seconds but when Camila blinks her eyes and she can finally see her surroundings again, the natural light of the sun is brightening up her living room instead of the man-made glow of her light bulb.

She barely has time to marvel on it when she hears a shrill scream just beside her.

"Mommy!!!"

Shuffling feet quickly follows and a nervous curly haired woman comes walking in.

"Kyle, what is it? What happened."

The little boy quickly runs to her mom and points at Camila, teardrops threatening to spill from his eyes. "There's an intruder in Aunt Lauren's house."

The woman looks at her and after what seems to be a quick appraisal of her appearance, the mother of the child sighs as if in defeat.

"Lauren Michelle," she calls out in a calm but warning tone.

The owner of the name soon appears, surprise in her face when she sees Camila sitting on her couch.

"This is what I'm talking to you about. You couldn't even warn me when I'm at your house."

"What?! I don't know her. I swear I didn't bring a girl with me last night."

The woman sighs again. "Look, I'm not trying to be hard on you. First of all, I'm your friend and you have to tell me stuff like this."

She picks up her child and bids goodbye to Lauren. "I'll see you next week."

When they are finally alone that's when Camila gets the time to study her surroundings. If you would ask her she'd say she's still in her apartment, in her living room, but what she sees is different. The minimalist looking gray couch that's deceitful to the eyes but is actually as cosy as the one she sat at at a five star hotel one time, not hers. The matching carpet that she bets her feet would feel like heaven have they not been cradled by her very mature Stitch slippers, not hers. The elegant dirty white walls adding expanse to the rather small room, not hers. The sparse furniture that should have symbolised poverty but exuding wealth nevertheless, not hers. And most of all, the three-inch thick ugly TV with equally thick borders that's currently playing Eminem's Without Me, definitely not hers.

"Who are you?"

She almost forgets the crazy epiphany that she witnessed earlier had the voice not interrupted her quiet study of the place. She tilts her head up to look at the owner of the voice and once again she's arrested by the amazing fact that the one and only Lauren Jauregui is standing in front of her. In all her glory and youthful beauty as if twenty years hasn't passed.

Camila's about to fangirl when she hears her voice again.

"You better explain yourself, lady, or I will call the cops right now."

At the mention of cops, she panics.

"No, don't call the cops. I'm not a bad person I promise."

As if on cue, she feels the box in her hand and shows it to Lauren.

"Here, it's this device's fault. One minute I was watching your videos in my living room and then the next I'm here. With you. I don't know how that happened."

Camila catches the exasperated murmur from the rockstar 'Fucking obsessed fans' before she feels her hand getting tugged.

"Please, please don't report me to the cops."

She shows the box one more time to Lauren, noticing that it's glittering again. "See, this silver patch showed 2002 and the next thing I knew I'm here."

When they arrive at the door, Lauren lets go of her hand, arms crossing on her chest.

"Alright, miss, I'm not interested in your fake story. Just get the hell out of my apartment and never come back again."

Camila doesn't know what exactly makes her want to explain. Maybe it's the fact that she's admired Lauren now for a long time and she doesn't want her first and possibly last impression of her to stay tainted.

"It's that strange man's fault. Yeah, that's it. He gave me this tiny box and said it'll make me happy."

The box keeps glittering as Camila looks back at it as if waiting for it to explain for herself. Then dots just like from earlier start to appear again.

The numbers it shows further heightens Camila's confusion.

"2022."

She touches the year before showing it to Lauren, who has been watching just as confused as Camila over the strange woman in her apartment.

"2022. This is my year. I mean, the year earlier when I was in my living room, before this showed 2002."

Something clicks in Camila's head. It makes perfect sense now. The ugly tv, Eminem's song, the way Lauren looks exactly like the way she does in her videos.

"I'm in 2002, aren't I?"

Before Lauren can answer her question, however, the same blinding light reappears and Camila can't help but close her eyes.

This time, when she opens her eyes, she's back at her apartment and it's night time again. Lauren's video is playing on her tv, the song now Expectations. She glances at her clock and it's 8:05. Merely a few minutes have passed since she picked up the item from her bag.

"What the fuck did just happen?"