𝕰𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

                                    

                                          
Soaked by Shy Smith
◁     ||     ▷
It's been a week since I stormed out of Kamala's office, and we haven't exchanged a single word since. Not even a casual hello. Whenever she needs to communicate with me, she sends someone else—usually Ruby—to pass along the message. I guess I should be relieved I wasn't fired, but being completely ignored by Kamala is driving me insane.
I spent those days reflecting on how she reacted, and guilt started to settle in over my own actions. But I was still so confused by her. I think I understand why she's hiding, but what I couldn't wrap my head around was why she stayed with her husband. He seems like a good man, and it just didn't seem fair to him.
Maybe it was my guilt gnawing at me, or maybe I was just becoming obsessed with her, but I needed to talk to her. I wanted to apologize for what I did with the pictures, but I also needed her to understand how I felt about Doug. Was it a terrible idea? Absolutely. But I couldn't keep pretending we didn't know each other existed.
Kamala had a magazine photoshoot scheduled, and guess what I was assigned to? I was tasked with capturing the 'behind-the-scenes' moments. Honestly, I was a little surprised she didn't try to have me pulled from the assignment.
Ruby and I arrived at the studio early, and she gave me a quick tour, pointing out where we'd be in case Kamala had to step away. I couldn't help but feel like her little shadow, following her around all day. In a strange way, I already felt like that—like I was being pulled along on a leash, but I just kept following, crawling back for more.
"And finally," Ruby said, leading me to a door with Kamala's name on it. "This is her dressing room. Don't worry, you won't have to watch her change. There's a bathroom inside she'll use for that."
If I could've found a way to tell Ruby that was the least of my concerns, I would've jumped at the chance to say it right then and there.
"Works for me," I said with a nod, giving the door a quick once-over.
"Hey Camilla, can I ask you something?" 
Oh God, could Ruby read minds too? I quickly shifted my gaze from the door to her and offered a soft, polite smile.
"Of course." 
"Have you noticed how weird Harris has been acting lately? She's been so quiet and reserved. Trying to talk to her feels...awkward. It's really not like her at all."
Oh, thank God, she can't. 
"Now that you mention it, she has been unusually quiet," I said with a little laugh, the kind that says, 'I swear I'm not making this up.' "I'm glad it's not just me who noticed."
"Maybe she's just having a rough week. I really hope it blows over soon."
"Me too," I said, and I meant it. I hoped that what I was planning would help, though part of me feared it might make things worse. Still, I was determined to follow through.
"Well, we should go wait for Harris to arrive. Let's hang out near the entrance where she'll come in. Just be sure to have your camera ready—we want to capture everything from the moment she walks in."
"Yes ma'am."
"Girl."
"What?" 
"I'm not your boss, why are you calling me ma'am?" 
I paused for a moment, then let a grin spread across my face. "I don't know, you can be pretty bossy."
"Oh, whatever," she said with a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Let's go."