Sorry this chapter took a while to get up. A member of my college's theatre department was tragically killed in a car wreck this week. I would love it if you could, if you're a religious person, please keep his family, his fiancée, and our department in your prayers as we go through this time.
SPECIAL NOTE: This chapter (and future chapters) contains references to underage drinking. If this is something that offends you, well, I warned you.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Big Time Rush or any of its characters.
Camille gasped for breath as she struck her final pose, hoisted into the air by the girls beneath her. All through the first season of the show, Camille had never had to do stunts before. Her character had appeared cheering at pep rallies and football games in episodes, but they had never shown any flying. Well, all that changed with this episode.
She had gone through a three hour boot camp on stunts with a cheerleading coach from UCLA, and the girls who made up the cheer squad were all actually cheerleaders or gymnasts. And Camille didn't have to do any complicated flying or anything, just this ending, both her feet held securely in place by the base girls, one of her hands on her waist, the other high in the air, fists balled. But still. It was terrifying.
Especially the part where they brought her down. That was the really scary part. The bases had to actually let go of her, letting her fall into their arms. And she had to walk away from it with a huge grin like she'd been doing it since she was a little kid (as her character, Harmony, had).
"Ready?" the base called out.
"Yup," Camille said, and felt her heart stop as she dropped into the arms of the waiting girls. She involuntarily tensed a little bit, making her landing a bit unsteady.
"Whoa," the back base said as the girls stumbled a little sideways, catching them and steadying their grip on Camille. "Careful."
"Can't tense up like that, Camille," the choreographer called. "You won't fall—these girls are professionals. The only way you'll fall is if you do that."
Camille nodded. "I know, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to. It's just a little scary."
"We'll go through it a couple more times. We can do just the stunt a few times if you want," the choreographer suggested.
"Cool," Camille agreed. "Can I take a quick break first?"
"Absolutely. We've still got an hour before you need to be on set."
Camille smiled and walked over to where Logan was sitting on a bench along the wall. He smiled at her, handing her water bottle to her. "You are absolutely amazing," he commented, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto his lap.
"Stop," Camille half-heartedly complained. "I'm so sweaty and gross."
"I like you anyway," Logan insisted, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you a lot this weekend."
"I missed you too," Camille replied, sliding off his lap and sitting next to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, taking a sip of water. "What are the guys up to today?"
"They're unpacking and then probably just hanging out, I think," Logan shrugged. "I know Kendall's with Jo, and Carlos probably went off with Stephanie somewhere." Camille smiled at the reminder of Carlos and Stephanie. They'd been official for about ten months now and were one of the cutest couples EVER.
"Mia was reminding me about the party earlier. You and the guys are still coming right?" Camille asked, her hand snaking out and joining hands with Logan.
"Of course," Logan assured her. "The guys, and Jo and Stephanie. James is really excited. He's looking forward to getting to know Lindsey better, I think." Camille giggled and then rolled his eyes. "Of course, he's also excited because we haven't been to a decent party in months."
"Right, the last really big party that happened was Dak Zevon's back in April, wasn't it?" Camille thought. "Well, Mia throws great parties. She threw the wrap party for season one, and I'm hoping she does for this season too. Plus, her new house is huge. She showed me pictures when she first picked it out."
Mia, turning nineteen this weekend, had moved out of her parents' house in Toluca Lake to her own multi-million dollar mansion in Beverly Hills. No one had been allowed to visit yet because it "wasn't ready." The birthday party this weekend was also going to her housewarming party.
"I can imagine," Logan nodded. "She's pretty well-off, isn't she? Although, I can't really imagine living in such a huge place. Hell, the crib practically feels like a mansion to us. The Palm Woods is awesome, why would anyone live anywhere else?"
Camille gave a tight-lipped smile and shrugged good-naturedly. Sure, his apartment was fantastic. But the guys seemed to always forget that their apartment was the only apartment like that in the entire building. All the other ones were small one- or two-bedroom places. No swirly slides, no cool painted walls…heck, the guys' apartment had two floors!
And ever since her dad had left a few months ago, moving back to Connecticut, her apartment had felt even sadder. She was an adult, her dad had said, who had a fantastic job, a great income, and tons of friends. She didn't need her old dad around did she?
Well, no, she didn't, she thought. But it sure was lonely staring at blank white walls after a long day at work. She couldn't spend all her time at the guys' place, not with Mama Knight still living there (Katie had put up such a fuss about the thought of going back to Minnesota, that they'd decided to stay on in California for a while).
"Do you want to stay over at my place tonight?" Camille asked.
"Sure," Logan agreed, sounding surprised. "But I thought you'd want to spend some time with Rachel."
Camille was confused. "Why would I especially want to spend time with Rachel?" she asked.
Logan's eyes widened and his face fell. "Oh no…she hasn't told you."
"Told me what?!"
~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~
"I can't believe this," Camille sobbed, holding her curly-haired friend close. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to upset you," Rachel sobbed back, equally sad. "I couldn't find the right way to tell you."
Camille pulled away with a sniff and stared around Rachel's living room. The place was packed into boxes. Camille couldn't even count how many evenings had been spent here, her and Rachel and Jo and Stephanie and sometimes even Lucy. And now it was all gone.
"But why?" Camille wailed. "Why would you want to go back home?"
Rachel sniffed and pulled Camille onto the couch with her. Camille grabbed a tissue from a box on the end table and blew her nose noisily.
"It's just over, Camille," Rachel told her. "I know I don't have a future as an actress. I'm not good enough."
"That's not true!" Camille interrupted.
"Camille, yes it is," Rachel said with a smile. "And I don't love it enough." That shut Camille up. "You love acting. You can't imagine doing anything else. Well…I can. I can imagine doing lots of things. I came out here to try a teenager's dream of being famous. And it didn't work out. And Camille, I'm okay with it." Rachel said this last sentence firmly and surely, grabbing Camille's hand and staring her deep in the eyes.
"But what are you going to do?" Camille asked. "What is there back in Texas?"
Rachel smiled slyly. "I'm going to college. I got accepted to University of Texas in Austin."
Camille's eyes widened. "Rachel that's great! Congratulations!" She engulfed her friend in another hug, this one happy and cheerful, the girls giggling. However, the happiness only last a few moments before they were tearing up and hugging again.
~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~
"Hey there Camille," the wardrobe master, Beth, greeted as Camille walked in the door, fresh from hair and makeup. "I've got your uniform set aside here, if you want to change."
Camille offered a weak smile and hid a large yawn behind her hand. "Thanks, Beth," she mumbled, blindly grabbing the familiar blue and white uniform from a rack and stumbling off to the dressing area in the back of the room. Friday morning, 8 AM. A fairly late call time, in all actuality. But she'd been up so late the night before, her and the girls. Rachel was leaving this morning for Texas. So she, Camille, Jo, Lucy, and Stephanie had all stayed in Lucy's apartment drinking wine and reminiscing and crying—a lot.
Camille hadn't had much to drink, but she definitely had woken up with a bit of a headache that morning, and it hadn't quite gone yet. She grumbled to herself, trying to avoid thinking about how one of her close friends was driving out of California forever, right at this very moment. Slipping out of her sweatpants, Camille stepped into the uniform miniskirt and pulled it up.
It put up resistance going over her thighs. Camille felt her breath catch in her throat and her heartbeat quicken. She reached to the back of the skirt and desperately grabbed the zipper, praying with all her might.
Nope. Not even close. The skirt was way too small.
How is that possible? Camille flipped out internally. I wore this for the scene on Wednesday. It fit perfectly.
Camille took off the skirt and poked her head out of the changing area. "Beth?" she called. The wardrobe manager came scurrying over. "Beth, I think…this skirt doesn't fit."
Beth, looking puzzled, took the skirt and looked inside at the tag. "Oh goodness, I gave you the wrong one darling!" she cried. "This is Emma's skirt." Emma was one of the cheerleaders that made up the squad. "I'm so sorry, darling, I must have mixed them up. So many uniforms this week, I got a little confused."
"What size is that one?" Camille asked tentatively.
"0," Beth said, putting the uniform on a rack full of other identical ones. She flipped through the rack until she pulled one out. "Here, this one is yours. It got mixed up because alterations were being done."
Camille took it meekly. "Thanks," she murmured absently, disappearing back into the dressing area. She couldn't help but peek at the tag—just to make sure it really was hers, she told herself. There, it was labeled. Camille Roberts—Harmony Bates. And, beneath that, she read with a sinking heart. Size 4.