Hey guys. This was meant to be a one-shot for the Out of Your Comfort Zone challenge from the BTR Plot Adoption Forum, but it'll probably be two or three parts. Things have been really busy lately, and unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish it all in time. This was meant to be just the beginning, so I'm sorry if it seems short. In the next chapter, you'll see where things went wrong and why things are the way they are now, so that will definitely be longer.

Trigger warning for mentions of a suicide attempt.

I hope you enjoy.

Her fingers wrap tightly around the bottle of pills as she cautiously makes her way through the Palm Woods lobby, which is now completely empty. It's half an hour past eleven o'clock, though, so of course it's empty. No one's aloud to be in the lobby a minute past nine. Even Bitters has retired for the night. She's alone, just like she wants to be – just like she has been for the past eight months.

"Hey, where are you going so late?"

She freezes just as she's about to take a step forward, right in the middle of the lobby. Her breath catches in her throat. It takes her a few seconds to realize who has spoken, and it's only until he's standing right in front of her that she does.

"Logan." His name feels bitter in her tongue as she says it. It takes everything in her power to stop the tears that are now stinging at her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked first," he says as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. When a few seconds pass and she doesn't respond, though, he smiles sheepishly and cocks his head towards the entrance of the lobby. "I just, uh, came back from a date."

"Oh," she breathes out before she can even stop herself. "How-how did it go?" she asks, forcing herself to smile even though it feels like someone has just stabbed her in the heart repeatedly. And perhaps someone has – maybe not literally, but figuratively? Definitely.

"It went... pretty good," he says slowly, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck in nervousness. He doesn't feel comfortable, she can tell.

"It's okay," Camille whispers, "to see other people, I mean. It's okay, Logan."

"Camille, I'm sorry..."

She shakes her head and gives him a small smile. "You don't have to be sorry, for anything. I want you to be happy, even if... even if it's not with me."

"Yeah, but—"

"Please just know that," she interrupts him. She can feel her mask deteriorating, and knows that if she's in his presence for much longer, she won't be able to keep up the act. "Know that I want you to be happy... and that I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you."

"I know," he whispers, sad brown eyes looking into hers.

She nods, before forcing her legs to finally move and walk past him. She can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn't look back until she has reached the entrance of the lobby. It is then that she turns to him, offering him a smile that only lasts a fraction of a second. "I hope you have a good night," she tells him.

"Thanks. You too," he says in a monotone voice. "Wait, you never said where you were going."

"Just for a walk," she responds, her eyes cast towards the ground.

"This late, by yourself?" Worry clouds Logan's eyes, and even though she's not looking at him, she can hear the worry in his voice. It's one of the things she has always loved about him; he has always cared about her. Even with their ups and downs, he has always cared about her wellbeing, even when others have not. "I can come with you, if you want."

"No, don't," she responds before he can even take a step towards her. "I'd rather you not. I just... I need some time to myself, if you don't mind."

"Is everything okay?" he asks, the worry he's feeling increasing with each passing second. He knows her more than well enough to know when she's upset. He knows that even though she may appear to be a fun-loving person who always has a smile on her face, that's not always the case. After all, looks can be deceiving. Just because she looks that way on the outside, doesn't mean it matches how she feels on the inside.

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" he asks, hoping she'll actually tell him the truth, but she doesn't.

"I'm sure," she manages to respond through the tears that are now slowly making their way down her face.

"Okay," Logan says uncertainly, trying to decide whether to push her further or just let it go. He doesn't want to pressure her, but he also doesn't want her to feel like she has no one to turn to. "Just keep your phone with you, okay? And call if you need anything."

"I will," she says, even though she knows she's lying. Her phone is nowhere near her – she had placed it on her bed right before walking out of her room just a few minutes before.

"I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see ya," she mumbles, and then takes a step out of the lobby and towards the Palm Woods pool area. Cool air brushes past her as she roams the pool area, taking in the sight before her. It's quite dark outside, apart from the couple of lamp posts that are set up around the cabanas, and the moon's reflection is gleaming on the surface of the water in the pool. The only sound she can hear is the sound of the wind as it howls past her and that of her footsteps against the pavement.

Shivering slightly, she makes her way towards the front of the hotel and starts her journey to get to Palm Woods park. On her way there, she stuffs her hand into her sweater's pocket and pulls out the bottle of pills. Tears glisten in her eyes and she lets out a shaky breath.

Images of what has happened in the past few months flash before her eyes and cause her legs to feel like jello, yet it simultaneously feels like weights have been tied to her feet.

She feels sick. She never thought she would end up here – never thought she would feel so horrible mentally that she would be contemplating taking her own life, yet here she is. After eight months of repeatedly blaming herself and feeling completely alone, she doesn't think she can take it anymore. She doesn't think she can keep doing this by herself.

She might be an actress, but this is an act she can't keep up anymore. This act is different – it's not fictional, it's real, and she's tired of pretending.

I don't really like where this ended, but it was the best place to end it for now, so I hope it makes sense. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked that little bit. :)

~ BigTimeRush-BTR :)