Cameron woke up before the sun, the alarm slicing through the silence like a knife. The room smelled of sweat, perfume, and the faintest trace of alcohol. She exhaled slowly, gaze shifting to the figure curled up beside her. Maya.
Even in the dim light, Cameron could see the markings she'd left on her the night before—deep bruises along her collarbone, faint crescents along her ribs where Cameron had dug her nails in. Evidence of yet another night she barely cared to remember. She pressed a lazy kiss to Maya's shoulder before slipping out of bed, already detaching from the moment.
She tugged on a shirt from the floor and ran a hand through her tangled hair before making her way to the kitchen. The same routine, the same sequence of motions. Pop the pills, crack open an energy drink, wash it all down, pretend she wasn't just stalling.
The shower scalded her skin, but she barely reacted. It took longer than it should have to get ready, but the fear of judgment, the weight of strangers' eyes, pushed her forward. She painted her face into something presentable. Feminine. Put-together. Something people liked looking at.
By the time she emerged, towel wrapped around her, Maya was awake, slipping back into her clothes with a speed that made it obvious she wanted out.
"Forgot you had class again?" Cameron asked dryly, pulling a comb through her hair.
Maya rolled her eyes. "It's eight in the morning. I just don't want to be late."
Cameron hummed in response, watching as Maya grabbed her things and left without much of a goodbye. Not that it mattered. Not that any of this ever mattered.
Alone, she faced her reflection.
Her stomach turned at the sight of herself—hollow eyes, sunken cheeks, skin that looked stretched too thin over bone. She ran a finger over a faded scar on her forearm. It was hard to feel like she was alive, but she supposed this was proof she still was.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Georgina.
Georgina: [Can I see you tonight?]
Maya was getting boring anyway.
Cameron: [Yeah. Pick a time.]
That was her life. Wake up. Work. Come home. Numb herself with another girl's lips, another night of mindless pleasure, another meaningless distraction. Rinse and repeat.
On the nights she was alone, it was worse. The silence swallowed her whole. It ended in new scars or drowning in whatever substance she had on hand.
There was no climbing out of this hole. Not anymore.
But at work, she was someone else. Someone worth keeping around. Charismatic, easygoing, the one everyone joked with but still relied on. It was a script she knew by heart. They liked her mask. If they saw the rot beneath it, they'd leave. That's what people did.
Cheyenne, one of her coworkers, clung to her the most. Nothing special about her. Average face, average life, average husband waiting at home. She saw Cameron as a friend. Cameron saw her as background noise.
It was Cheyenne who broke the news about the promotion that morning. Someone else had gotten it. Someone more suited for it. The others had looked so disappointed. They wanted Cameron in charge, someone who wouldn't make their lives harder. She had only shrugged. It wasn't like she had wanted it.
But the weight of their pity made her want to run.
She went home that night and drank. And drank. And drank until everything blurred. Someone came over. Georgina? Maya? Carey?
She had stopped caring.
She just needed someone to tell her she was worth something, even if it was a lie.
The next morning came like punishment. Her eyes were crusted over with leftover makeup and salt, her mouth tasted like regret and cheap liquor. Her body ached in places she couldn't name.
She sat up and immediately regretted it. Her phone was across the room, vibrating endlessly. She crawled toward it, each buzz digging deeper into her already fractured nerves.
Cheyenne: [You okay? You didn't show.]
Boss: [We need to talk.]
Unknown Number: [Last night was fun, I think.]
She hadn't just drank. She had disappeared. She hadn't even remembered to set an alarm. Work—her only tether to normalcy—was already gone for the day. She was already drowning in the fallout.
Cameron stared at her screen, blank and motionless. Then she tossed the phone across the bed and curled up beneath the sheets, pulling them tight around her head like a cocoon.
Maybe if she stayed still long enough, the world would forget she existed.
But it never did.