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she hates me because my music was played too much (but i have a huge crush on her)

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“Just get me a hot chocolate or something,” Camila whines, crossing her arms over her chest, “Can I go and find a seat now?”

“Chill out, Walz,” Camila’s Polynesian best friend, Dinah, replies, “No one ever recognizes you here.”

“That’s not my problem!” Camila groans, “I’m going to find a seat. Just get me a hot chocolate, please? I’ll even put a good word in with Mani.”

With the help of some puppy-dog eyes, Dinah finally complies and Camila walks over to the booth lined wall, where a girl is sitting in a corner with a coffee and computer in front of her on the table. 

Camila can’t help but notice how pretty the girl is, with black hair that dipped right below her shoulders and held back with a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. 

She catches herself staring before the girl can and sits a couple of tables down on the booth side, waiting for Dinah.

She and Dinah have been friends since Camila hired dancers for her shows and Dinah was looking for a quick buck while she delayed going to college. She reasoned with her mother that if she weren’t going to pursue a higher education (yet) that she’d get a job, and six months later she was touring around the world with Camila.

Camila had met Normani the same exact way, except Normani was doing classes online, despite not having picked a major. Dinah immediately had a crush on Normani, but she’s never acted upon it. Camila’s pretty sure that Normani has some kind of infatuation with her best friend as well, but she’s not too sure.

Dinah clambers over with the two drinks, Camila’s hot chocolate with whipped cream and Dinah’s iced coffee, and two muffins. Camila knows that Dinah catches the staring, and is immediately embarrassed.

“Just hit on her,” Dinah suggests after a dozen more stolen looks and Camila only half-paying attention to what she’s been saying. Camila’s face goes red at that, and she just takes a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I’m barely home, DJ, why look for a girlfriend?” Camila whines quietly, knowing the girl can’t hear her because of her earbuds but not wanting to take any chances.

“So? If it doesn’t work out, you never see her again. And if it does, you’ll have a girlfriend . For the first time since high school.” Dinah persuades, and Camila taps her fingertips against each other, thinking.

“Fine.” She grumbles, taking a final sip of her drink before going to throw it out (hopefully that’ll make the interaction more natural, but there’s nothing too natural about going out of your way to talk to a cute girl).

She stands in front of the girl’s table, catching the other girl’s attention almost immediately, “Um… hi, I’m Camila.” She pauses a second, trying to see if the girl recognizes her (she doesn’t know what answer she wants to that question, in all honesty), “I noticed you when I came into the cafe and I think you’re really pretty, and I want to know… um, if you’ll go on a date with me?”

The girl studies her for a second, and her stomach drops, hoping that the girl isn’t someone who hates her (in her opinion, she’d like to think that she’s not a hatable person, but the internet likes to disprove that).

“Sorry,” the girl apologizes (her voice is so soothing), “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere.”

Camila swallows, not sure how she wants to answer that, but dodges the question with an, “I get that a lot.”

Thankfully, the other girl responds with a light laugh, “Um, sure, I’ll go on a date with you.”

Camila beams, going speechless for a second, “Um, awesome!... What’s your name, by the way, I… didn’t ask before I asked you out.”

“It’s Lauren.” The girl ( Lauren , what a pretty name) responds with a small smile, “Can I get your number, Camila?”

Camila is positive that she almost melts right there, Lauren saying her name almost sounds like heaven. She quickly gives the other girl her phone, in a silent gesture of telling her to put her number in her phone.

“Thanks,” Camila smiles again, “I… I’ll text you.”


Camila gets home that afternoon after hanging out with Dinah and is excited. There’s something about this girl, she knows it.

She immediately texts her:

hi lauren! it’s camila :)

Oh, hi Camila. Listen, I’m not sure if the whole date thing is a good idea.

Camila feels her heart drop at that and almost wants to send an angry text to Dinah about talking her into it in the first place.

Instead, she texts the girl back:

what do you mean?

Well, I knew you looked familiar and I looked up your name when you got home. Would I be correct to assume that you’re Camila Cabello?

you would, but i don’t understand why that makes me undatable?

Don’t you celebrities only date other celebrities?

no, i’d actually prefer to date people outside of the industry. 

please just give me a chance. one date.


Camila holds back a squeal at the last text, now knowing that she’s going to have to put on one hell of a date.

However, a thought itches in the back of her head that maybe she shouldn’t try wooing the girl with big gestures and instead go for something more casual.

She knows what she’s going to do.


Lauren’s first impression of the girl is unimpressed.

Actually, let her rephrase that: her first impression of Camila Cabello is unimpressed. Her song, Havana, is always on the stereo when she’s at work, and she swears that if she hears havana-ooh-na-na one more time, she might cut a bitch. Her first impression of Camila , the dorky girl that asked for a date, is that she’s cute and has a nice ass and seems to be a fun person.

(She also catches a glance at Camila after she asks her out gushing to her blonde friend and finds that endearing.)

Either way, that was all before she was told to arrive at the popstar’s house, which, isn’t quite what she expected for Camila Cabello . It’s a pretty regularly sized Spanish-styled home in a relatively normal area of Miami, and she’s surprised when she doesn’t see some type of Maserati in the driveway to show her wealth. It’s so modest and blends in so well to the rest of the neighborhood that she’s scared she’s at the wrong house.

Regardless, she knocks on the door, holding a single rose (she always thought it was more romantic than a bouquet), and waits for a minute for a response.

Camila had told her to dress casually, so she is donned in a light gray long-sleeved shirt that crops right above her belly button and a pair of light blue jeans. Her hair is down (as per usual) and she’s using her Ray Bans sunglasses to keep it out of her face.

(She’s surprisingly nervous for not wanting to go on this date in the first place.)

The door finally opens, revealing the smaller Cuban in a loose t-shirt and jeans and her hair in a braid off to the side, and Camila beams at Lauren (which may make Lauren’s stomach flip flop, but she wouldn’t admit that), “Hi Lauren!”

“Hey,” Lauren offers a small smile and presents Camila with the rose, “I.. got this for you.”

Camila grins even bigger if possible, “Thanks! Come on in.”

Lauren was surprised earlier when Camila suggested Lauren just coming over to her house and not something like a six-star restaurant that could have crumbs worth more than her college tuition, but right now she’s way more content with the current situation.

Camila lets her past the threshold and into her house, where Lauren’s immediately greeted by two dogs that Camila introduces as Leo and Thunder. Lauren isn’t hesitant to pet the two and feels her heart melting at how receptive they are.

“Aw, they like you.” Camila smiles softly, and then Lauren brings her attention back to her date, “Take another minute, and then I can show you what we’re doing for the date.”

Lauren nods, giving the dogs a few final pats before Camila leads her to the back porch. It’s set with a pizza box and some paper plates that are being held down by a bottle of wine, and there’s a picnic blanket set on one of the chairs.

“I didn’t think that you’re one of those girls that likes the super fancy dinners or whatnot, so I kind of thought that we could just do casual, and if you’re up to it we can watch a movie in the living room later or just hang out outside. Totally up to you. And… I know it’s a turn off for some people, but I like Hawaiian pizza. I got you cheese, though.” Camila rambles, and Lauren finds the action endearing despite her blatant wanting to hate the girl with the annoying song all over the radio.

“It’s great,” Lauren admits quietly, and she can’t help but smile too when Camila beams again. “But you’re right, Hawaiian pizza is the worst.”

“I-It’s really not!” Camila insists, pouting, “Be glad I’m not forcing you to like it or something.”

“I’ll be dead before I’d even consider trying it, Cabello.” Lauren retorts, making Camila roll her eyes as she grabs the bottle of wine and bottle opener. “Are you even old enough to own that, you still look like a teenager.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m twenty-three, loser.” Camila responds, “Shouldn’t you know that after you internet stalked me?”

Lauren rolls her eyes, enjoying the banter, “I didn’t internet stalk you, I just typed Camila into Google. Not my fault that you’re famous. Should’ve known sooner, though, I think my sister has a poster of you in her room.”

“Oh, you have a sister? Me too,” Camila replies, smoothly switching the topic off of her fame.

“I have two siblings, actually, Taylor and Chris. Taylor’s nineteen and Chris is twenty-two.” Lauren replies, her curiosity about the other girl suddenly piquing, “How about you?”

“My sister’s name is Sofia, she’s thirteen this year which is insane , but I love her so much. Even though I leave a lot for work, she’s still like my best friend.” Camila gushes, and Lauren almost kind of loves that reaction.

“That’s cute that you’re close,” Lauren comments and catches Camila smiling to herself as she pours two glasses of wine and hands one to Lauren. “Thank you.”

The conversation pauses with an oddly comfortable silence as Camila grabs a slice of her pizza for herself and a slice of Lauren’s for her. “So, how much internet stalking did you do about me?”

“You make it sound like I now know everything about you. I literally just looked up your name and then you texted me.” Lauren retorts.

“Fine, but you still have a leg up on me. What’s your last name?” Camila asks.

“Jauregui.” Lauren replies, adding the Spanish accent instead of the lame American way of saying it.

“Oh, are you Hispanic?” Camila questions, taking another bite of her pizza.

“Cuban, actually. I know a decent amount of Spanish, but my mom spoke Spanglish with me growing up.” Lauren replies and takes a sip of her wine.

Camila’s eyes practically bulge out of her head and she almost chokes on her wine before responding with a calm, “I’m Cuban, too, actually.”

“I figured, with your song Havana . That or you’re just ripping on Cuba.” Lauren says, leaving out the part where she hates the song and always changes it when it worms its way into her ears again.

“Hah, yeah, I never expected that song to blow up as much as it did. Not that I’m not happy about it, I just found it surprising. A lot of people thought it wouldn’t do well.” Camila admits with a snort. She finishes off her slice of pizza as Lauren gives her a small stare, not sure how to interpret the information.

Before she knows what she’s saying, Lauren blurts, “I kind of hate Havana.”

Camila’s face drops, but she keeps her cool as she asks, “Why?”

Lauren quickly contemplates her answer, not wanting to sound super harsh, although she just did say that she basically hates the song, “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t really… I…” She pauses, wanting to collect her thoughts, “It’s an okay song, but I don’t really listen to pop music aside from when it plays at work, and your song was kind of all over the radio… I kind of got sick of it.”

Camila looks contemplative, and Lauren half-prepares herself for the girl to kick her out and ask her to never come back (which, half an hour ago, Lauren would’ve done, but now she kind of really likes the girl). Camila finally responds with a calm, “Oh” and Lauren doesn’t know what to say to that.

“I’m sorry, I probably just ruined this. I- do you want me to leave?” Lauren asks, her stomach in knots as her anxiety rises in her chest.

Camila’s still pretty silent, but she shakes her head, and after a minute replies with, “No, it’s fine. Art is subjective, you know?”

Lauren immediately feels some weight off her chest, but her stomach still aches with guilt, “Uh… yeah.”

“Was that why you said no in the first place?” Camila asks after another weighted minute.

Lauren sighs, there’s no use in lying to the other girl now (not that she should anyways), “A little bit. I wasn’t lying about the whole dating celebrities thing, though, not that I’ve ever been asked out by one before you, but the idea of fame kind of scares me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m home for the next three months. And as much as I love my fans… it’s nice to have secrets.” Camila replies, watching Lauren’s face carefully for another second before asking, “You’re one of the people that hates Havana because it was overplayed, right?”

A sheepish blush creeps up Lauren’s cheeks, “Yes.”

Camila just smiles, “Well, that means that I’ve got a hell of a lot to prove to you, and I’m very willing to do it.”

“What, do you want me to stream your album? Doesn’t that make you money and prove that you’re using me?” Lauren asks, a joking tinge in her voice.

“Well, yeah, but I also think that you don’t really know me if you’re just listening to Havana. Which, if I’m correct, you probably only know the Havana-ooh-na-na part and haven’t even read the lyrics.” Camila replies knowingly, and Lauren rolls her eyes, knowing in the back of her head that Camila’s right.

“Fine. What do I listen to first?”