To Catch a Butterfly || Camren

Chapter XIII

Performing used to be Lauren's passion. She felt it when she stepped on stage. The high of the audience, the music, the choreography - all blending together in a single experience of accomplishment. There were minutes of pure delight and then it was over, and she was back to her life. But the two are barely distinguishable, now. There's no high on the stage, and life is low. There's emptiness everywhere she looks. There are times when she isn't sad, and those are spent in a void. But then she descends into it, the darkness, and her whole-body aches under the pressure. And there isn't anything between the limbo of life and the high, it's one or the other. She's bruised and broken and tired. She just wants it to mean something, her life ... but it doesn't. If the high saves her from a night of that realization, that's all she can hope for. It's better than nothing. But Camila ... Camila is something. Lauren can't decide if she's better than nothing at all.

There's a final blur of noise, screams, and applause as Lauren steps off of the stage at Madison Square Garden. As the night falls thick over the bright lights of the event, she climbs into her ride to escape the bombardment of camera flashes. Faith's shrill voice calls to her across the limo as she enters.

"Nice ride," She says cheerfully. Lauren throws her a look of disdain, but she isn't fazed.

Faith has a smug grin on her face. If Lauren didn't know her well, she'd call it charming, inviting even. Lauren had approximately five minutes free of her at the event today, five minutes to use the bathroom in peace and that was all. But it was enough time to switch jackets with a woman in the stall over. She prefers to deal with Ty but with Faith hovering over her, a trip to the Gramercy isn't an option.

"How are you feeling today?" Faith climbs across the limousine to her side as they pull out.

"Cheery," Lauren sneers.

"Dido!"

Faith keeps up the small talk until the moment they reach the door of her hotel room, where Faith asks once more if she's alright. Lauren has been catching tears at the corner of her eyes since the afternoon. It's getting worse and, paired with her sweating, progressively harder to hide. But Lauren had convinced Faith the tears were emotional, and she doesn't push emotional issues. Lauren's preparing to shut the door on her when she yells behind her to someone in the hallway.

"Howdy," Faith says.

"Hi," Camila mutters in the same cheerful tone. "I'm here for Lauren."

"Of course! It's nice to finally meet you." Camila drops Faith's hand as her eyes widen. She looks to Lauren like she's just seen a ghost. Paparazzi, reporters, interviewers, even fans, they were all out for the same thing; a story.

"She's with me," Lauren says, "unfortunately."

"I can come back if it's a bad time," Camila mumbles, holding her own hands and standing with one leg tucked behind the other.

"We could all spend a little time–" Faith starts.

"I swear to–" Lauren curls her fists. "Faith, fuck off," She says, pointing to the elevator. Camila's gasp is more a reaction than Faith can muster. She's running through treatment mantras in her head, Lauren can tell.

"Inhale, exhale, Lauren," She says. Lauren's fingernails are digging into her palms, now, but she inhales anyway.

"I'm sorry, I'm just – I've had a long day," She says to minimize the consequences of her outburst.

"I'm going to come back," Camila mutters, turning on her heels to retreat into Dinah's room.

"There's never going to be a good time for you to be here," Lauren sneers at her back. "Might-as-well stay."