Addicted | Camila x Reader / discontinued

Jealous?

"What the fuck, what's wrong, Y/n?" Camila practically yells in my ear, shaking me, but I can't speak. I'd swallowed down a handful of the contents of the bag--one of them had to do something to fix this, right?--and now my tongue feels ten times the size, and I can feel it throbbing in my mouth. I can hardly breathe without feeling every single separate nerve ending in my body set alight. She continues to yell at me to say something until a third hand grabs me by the arm, yanking me from the bunk.

"I'll take care of it," they rasp, and I vaguely recognise the voice as that of James. Somehow, my brain speculates that if I'm Larsen's friend and Larsen is James' friend, James must be my friend, too, so I struggle to push myself to my feet as he leads me down the steps and out of the bus. He pushes me all the way to a nearby patch of grass, where he lets me fall to my knees before ramming his hand into my mouth.

I shout in protest, though it comes out gargled, his fingers reaching the back of my throat. Before I even realise what he's doing, he quickly removes them as I gag, spilling the contents of my stomach onto the grass. Panting, I fall onto my hand, though he quickly lifts me up so I don't stay too close to the puddle now seeping into the dirt.

"That's Larsen's stuff, right?" He asks, his voice coming out quick and forced. I can tell he's holding in his own gag, but I've been in this situation too many times to care. Suddenly, he's Zach, standing behind me and laughing as I throw up his vile concoctions.

I nod, both to answer his question and to shake the image from my mind.

"How much did you take?" His rough fingers swipe my hair behind my ear and I shiver.

"I don't know," I pant, "All of it? Like, five, or... six--" my head whips around to face him, "You can't tell Camila."

He sighs but doesn't respond in words. I have to trust that he'll listen.

"What did Larsen do to her?"

He frowns for a moment, seeming genuinely confused, before his eyes widen and he roughly gestures to his crotch, raising a brow in question. I nod, realising he's avoiding any words describing her boner. Shaking his head, he explains, "I bet he wishes he caused that, but no, that was all her."

Anger flares up within me once more as I turn over my shoulder to face the bus, watching the easily identifiable silhouette of Camila stride towards us. I push his hands away and fall back onto my ass, sitting on the wet tarmac. "I'm good, now."

He nods, getting the message, and stands back up to face Camila. I fade their conversation out of my conscious attention. All I can think about is that dancer giving Camila a full-blown hard-on, and what they might have done to make it dwindle before returning to the bus, as it certainly wasn't there when she laid behind me. Scoffing to myself, I shakily rise to my feet, ignoring that slight effects the drugs still have on me (most of it now sinking into the grass) as I stumble back to the bus. Grabbing my phone, I leave once more, passing Camila and James, the former glaring at me but doing nothing else to stop me. Taking that as permission, I sit against the tire and pull up the one contact in my phone who I know Camila hates. Even if she doesn't know that I'm talking to her, it's my subtle way of getting back at her.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" She asks immediately, likely knowing that I'm usually caught up with Camila after a show, never calling her.

I plaster a smile onto my face, keeping it tight-lipped lest the bitter taste in my mouth be visible, too. "Nothing, I just miss you, Ari."

I watch as she moves to sit up, already in bed. She keeps her covers held tight to her chest, and my brows raise when I realise she's not wearing anything underneath. Part of me hopes Camila will see, while the small, sober part of me panics when I picture how she'd react.

"I miss you, too, Y/n," She grins momentarily, but then frowns, "I also know you. Something's wrong."

"I'm- I'm fine," I shake my head, crossing one arm over my torso while the other rests on my knees, holding my phone at face-level.

Her eyes narrow. "What have you been up to lately?"

"Not much," I shrug, "We'll be back in Miami soon. We're circling back around or something, I don't know, but that Maria girl I told you about, she'll be gone." This time, my smile is genuine. "That'll be good."

She hums and nods, though she seems distant. Finally, she asks, "Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you take?"

My jaw clenches. "I didn't take anything," I lie through my teeth, but my eyes fall from the screen. Even digital eye contact is difficult to hold while lying.

She sighs disappointed, and my eyes begin to burn. "Y/n/n... you were doing so well--"

"Fuck off, Ari, I told you I didn't do anything!" I snap, surprising even myself. I guess I must've been too loud, as Camila sticks her head out of the door, glaring at me, then my phone. Groaning, I hang up on Ariana mid-sentence and make my way over to Camila, sending her the dirtiest look I can muster. "What?"

"Were you talking to Grande without me again?" Her voice seems drained of emotion and exhausted.

"What? You jealous?"

To my surprise, her expression softens, and she gestures me closer. "Come inside."

Yeah, I bet he did. I scoff but follow her onto the bus.

I freeze when I spot the torn-open white bag sitting on the a table in the front room, with James sitting sheepishly on the sofa beside it.