Chapter 10 : Now or Never

*Ophelia*

“Are you FUCKING serious, Camila?!” I screech, banging open the door to her dressing room, phone in hand, on the verge of exploding. If flames could logistically come shooting out of my ears, I know that there’d be a fire in no time. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out about your little hospital visit?”

Camila sits in her chair, her makeup brush in hand as she stares at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t even bother turning to face me; instead, she makes eye contact with me through the damn glass. “Whatever do you mean, Ophelia?”

Her fake innocent act adds to the fire in me, my blood beginning to boil. I grab the bitch’s chair and spin her around to face me, not giving her a chance to go ANYWHERE. “First, you start spreading these horrid lies about me, making it look like I’m trying to take you down a notch? Then I have to find out from the hospital you’ve been trying to make my mother worse?”

She shakes her head, but the smile doesn’t break. “And what makes you so sure that I went to the hospital and had anything to do with your disgusting mother?”

“The fact the hospital staff told me that some snooty redhead paid them a lot of money to mistreat Mama!” I so desperately want to punch that smirk off her face, maybe even break a few teeth along the way.

“Oh, that.” Camila’s eyes glisten. “Fine, Ophelia. You caught me. I did it. I spread rumors involving you, about you, making people believe that you were out to get me. I warned you to stay away from Asher, and because you had to go ahead and try stealing him from me, I thought the only way to get it through your thick skull was to drive a wedge between you two.”

“You did this over a stupid man?” I shout. “How old are you? Really! Are you just so insecure that my very presence scares you? Or is it because you’re just so intolerable to EVERYONE you meet?”

I watch Camila’s face scrunch up, and she turns her chair around to face me. “Oh, Ophelia, you truly are that dense.” She crosses her arms and turns the anger into a devilish, sick smile. “You know what the easiest part of all of this was? How simply people roll over when you shove money in their faces. The way those hospital workers fell to their backs to accept my money and do as I ask. When will you finally get it through that thick skull of yours? You are NOT the talent. You’re NOTHING.”

“You could have KILLED her!”

“Wouldn’t have affected me.” Camila shrugs, no remorse, no fear, only diabolical.

My breathing grows heavy, and the air moves through my nose so loud I could be a snorting bull. “My mother is in critical care. Her life quite literally is hanging in the balance! She’s being monitored at all times. And all you care about is some lousy guy and a career where you can’t sing!”

That gets her attention. She stands up quickly before getting into my face. “I am the talented one here! Not you! No one comes here to see some pathetic bitch who can’t even take care of her sick and dying mother. Are you looking for any sympathy from me? You mean absolutely nothing to me. You’re a pawn I’m using in a grand game of chess. And I’m going to use your pathetic ass to continue moving forward. I’m your Queen.”

“You’re no queen, Camila. You’re fucking trash someone forgot to leave at the corner.”

SMACK!

I don’t move quickly enough to avoid the slap across my face, and the burning follows a few seconds later. I touch my face with my palm, not giving Camila the satisfaction of a real reaction.

She leans in, her face mere inches from mine. “For all I care, your mother is dead. And YOU, Ophelia, YOU killed her. I don’t care if all the nurses have to be paid off, I’m never letting you out of this fucking nightmare.”

With a swish of her hair hitting me, she returns to her seat and makeup. “Get the fuck out of my dressing room, bitch. Go hide in some backstage corner and whimper about your poor mommy before I call security.”

I wonder if I slam Camila’s head down on the dressing room table how long it would take her to fall unconscious. Or die. I’m not usually one to wish such misfortune, but what I said to Skylar now has to be the truth.

Time to fight fire with fire.

I leave the dressing room, picking up my phone to plan my way out.

No more. I’m never going to be used by Camila ever again. Abusing me is one thing. Spreading incredibly false lies is another. But the fact she was trying to kill Mama? That’s it. THAT is my breaking period. I start rushing around backstage; I nearly run into someone.

“Ophelia.”

Asher’s voice makes me jump a foot in the air, covering my chest to catch my breath. “Jesus! Stop fucking scaring me!” I tell him, using my backhand to smack his arm.

He raises his hands in the air, surrendering. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. You just look…distraught.”

I can’t help but laugh at his observation. “Very astute, Mr. Quarterback.”

“Are you okay?” He takes a step closer, his eyes growing concerned.

Turning right and left, making sure no one is within earshot, I shake my head. “Camila’s gone too far. I can’t take her inferiority complex, meaning tonight, I’m taking back all my power.”

“Fuck yeah,” Asher replies. “How can I help?”

I raise my eyebrow. “You think this is a good idea? You’re not going to talk me out of doing anything?”

“Does she deserve forgiveness?” he questions.

I narrow my eyes. “She tried to kill my mother by bribing the hospital into mistreating her. You tell me, Asher.”

“No fucking way.” His concern shines on his face. “Is she okay?”

At least someone cares. “It’s critical, but they’re doing their best. I’m going to have to move her. But they’re keeping full-time watch on Mama. Right now, Camila needs a slice of humble pie.”

“How can I help?” Asher questions. “Also, humble pie? How old are you?”

I roll my eyes but give him my first smile of the day. “I’m going to ignore your insult and focus on the issue at hand. Actually, you know what? You’re the perfect sidekick for this mission.”

Retaliation is finally coming.

Two hours later, right when Camila was supposed to start her concert, I set my plans in action. I check once more that my phone is ready, and that no one will get in my way while I teach Camila her lesson.

Asher has taken his spot backstage, with Camila. His part is simple. Pretend to be enamored with Camila, even egging her on to be herself. The true dragon will find her way into the sunshine. And that alone will give the crowd a better understanding of this bitch.

As she takes the stage, the audience begins to cheer her on, and I can hear her heels clicking on the ground.

Camila flicks back the curtain on either side of her, wearing a short blue dress as she parades down the stage, as I can see through the crack in the curtain. She waves out to all the people, blowing air kisses. She winks into the crowd before shouting into the microphone, “What’s up Bell’s Ball Plaza? You all look wonderful tonight! Well, you know, not better than I do.” The crowd responds as loud as possible.

“I just want to start tonight’s show by giving forgiveness to someone. As many of you know, I’ve been targeted by the tabloids, in the middle of horrid scandals, and dragged through the mud by Ophelia Lane.”

The boos start and the anger surges up in me again. I hear people call me all sorts of names and slurs and swear I’ll be going to hell. God, she’s got all of them wrapped around her little finger.

“Now, now! She may be a jealous person, she may be trying to steal my career and man, but tonight, I’m hoping the two of us can put all of this past arguing to rest.”

Sorry, Camila. That’s not going to happen.

I turn on my backstage microphone, play the recording on my phone from earlier today, and walk down the stage, pushing through the curtain.

A bunch of people gasp and shout, but they’re mostly overshadowed by what my phone is speaking into the microphone. Instead of saying anything, I show the audience that what they’re hearing is coming from my microphone.

“Fine, Ophelia. You caught me. I did it. I spread rumors involving you, making people believe that you were out to get me. I warned you to stay away from Asher, and because you had to go ahead and try stealing him from me, I thought the only way to get it through your thick skull was to drive a wedge between you two

“You did this over a stupid man?”

Camila’s eyes widened, seeing not only my face on the stage but also hearing her insults and admissions of guilt over every speaker in the place.

“Oh, Ophelia, you truly are that dense. You know what the easiest part of all of this was? How simply people roll over when you shove money in their faces. The way those hospital workers fell to their backs to accept my money and do as I ask. When will you finally get it through that thick skull of yours? You are NOT the talent. You’re NOTHING.”

“You could have KILLED her!”

“Wouldn’t have affected me.”

I turn off the recording, looking at her crowd of the deceived. Then, I bring the microphone to my lips. “My name is Ophelia Lane. I’m the woman Camila continues to throw under the bus to make herself look better. But tonight, Camila not only admitted to the false rumors and blamed me, but you heard her speak about almost killing my mother.”

The room is dead silent, but Camila is quite literally turning red. But she doesn’t get a chance to take even one step near me because Asher is holding her back.

“I’m going to kill you, bitch!” Daggers are glinting in her eyes. Her face and hair almost match at this point. But Asher’s got a good grasp on her.

I start hearing others speaking in the audience, all mumbling or questioning each other.

“But, why would Camila do any of that?” Someone calls.

“A man? All of this hell for a man?”

“Why should we believe you?”

I put my phone in my pocket, talking into the microphone again. “Because I’m Camila’s voice. She isn’t a singer. She’s just a gold digger, wanting to be rich and famous without any of the real work!”

“How DARE you say that to me!” Camila barks. I am better than you are in absolutely every way!”

“Who do we trust?” Someone says at the front of the stage.

That’s when I heard a voice from next to Camila, “Compete against each other!” Asher shouts out. “Prove who’s the real singer, and who’s the fake. Sing on the spot!”

Camila laughs. “I don’t have to prove ANYTHING!”

“Fine, Camila. Don’t show the world,” Asher taunts. “I mean, if you aren’t lying, what’s so bad with singing to prove yourself?”

Camila looks from Asher to me, to the audience, back to me. She narrows her eyes. And I know she’s finally been backed into a corner.