Summary: With Logan and Camille, there were always words left unsaid: things they wanted to say, couldn't say, or never got a chance to say.
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Reminder: Takes place during or around the episode Big Time Crush! ;)

w o r d s • l e f t • u n s a i d .

O1: Camille.

You know when you're a little kid on the big kid playground, minding your business, making a volcano out of tanbark, and a bully suddenly comes up and destroys all your hard work with a swift kick of his or her foot?

Yeah, love feels like that. Except, even after the anger you feel at that meanie, or as much as you want to throttle them or call them a "berry bad word" (in little kid lingo), you kind of forget about the whole thing and go on your merry way, already constructing a new volcano.

I wish I could go back to those times when I was young, naïve, and stupid, and where my mind just easily forgot everything. Because right about now, I feel pretty shitty.

I know, I know…Camille Rogers is the Method Actress Queen of the Palm Woods. I am an actress, and part of the job description does require some relatively decent skills at the art of faking. Well guess what, I think I might just win a Golden Globe, because I've just performed a pretty damn good performance.

Kidding.

I mean, it wasn't that good. After all, I could already feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and if there's one thing I didn't want Logan to see was me crying. Camille, of all people, who'd — of course — be oh-so dramatic. Yes, that's me, crazy Camille for you. Except, you know, sometimes I don't want to pretend anymore. Because it hurts too much to.

But of course, we must go on with the show.

This is it, huh? I thought, closing the door on Logan, and slipping against the doorframe.

I hope Logan didn't hear me weeping, because that would've been terrible. I didn't want to bring his mood down for his date with Peggy. God I wish I could hate her. But she is so freakishly nice, and smart, and shy, and…she's so much like Logan it hurts. Because of course he'd be attracted to her! And who was to say he couldn't date other people? We broke up after all.

We broke up.

You know, I thought we still had a thing. Even if we weren't dating, there was still something; there was still a spark. But I guess it's all gone now, extinguished by his new found interest in Peggy. With her long, golden hair straightened to perfection, and stylish, black-rimmed glasses that scream Ivy League student. Not to mention mellow; whereas I'm the crashing waves against the seashore, she's the calm wind wafting in the new, alluring scent of attraction in the air. I'm not going to lie: I'm outright jealous.

Because who does this chick think she is, leisurely strolling into the Palm Woods stealing my man?

He's not yours anymore Camille, my conscious reasons. Thanks for the comfort, self. I'm bawling here, all alone on a Saturday night over a guy I might just have loved, and you go in with your wise words of comfort. Thank you oh so much.

Wow, I'm pathetic. Here I am dateless. On a Saturday night. Alone. Crying over the guy who's chasing someone else.

What happened to strong-willed Camille? Camille, who didn't have a boyfriend before, and didn't mind? The one who wasn't so desperate as to keep chasing someone who's been long gone for awhile now? Gosh!

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

What does that make me now?

I chuckle into my palms; it comes out croaky and fake and disgusting, but I laugh anyways. And then I smash my head once again against the doorframe, in hope that I'll get a concussion or something. Something to prevent me from thinking about Logan, Peggy, Logan and Peggy, or that I, Camille, am not a part of Logan's love equation any longer. He always did love math.

This fact, simple as it was, rattles me. Because here I am, having put so much effort into a loss cause; it proves that even the quirks I know about Logan, like how he flosses after every meal in fear of gingivitis, or how he's scared of clowns, went all to waste.

Because I'm not Camille, Logan's girlfriend.

I'm Camille, his cool friend who totally understands that he's hooked on someone else, and he kind of wants to date her.

I bang my head against the door again. The collision is harder than I expected, and at contact pain shoots through my head. I laugh again.

My, Camille, how you've fallen.

Amidst my current state, I hear a faint jingle coming from my jean pocket. I'm tempted to chuck my cell phone across the room, but decide otherwise.

"Hello?" I mumble into the receiver. God, I sound like shit.

"Camille?" From the voice, I can tell it's that one guy Steve. He's really nice, although shy, having only recently arrived at the Palm Woods.

"Oh." I say, somewhat depressed. Who were you expecting? I ask myself, but am quick not to answer. "Hi Steve."

"Oh! So—um, I was wondering…if maybe…"

Oh no, no, no. Please no. Not right now.

"…if you'd like to—to, um, catch that new movie Kiss and Tell…"

I really didn't need this.

"…with me."

He sounded so sincere and hopeful. And he was nothing but nice to me; I didn't want to crush his spirits. But I was in no mood for a date, especially if Logan was likely taking Peggy out to that very same movie…and yet…

"…if I—I mean, if you want to. If you're up for it…if not, that's…that's okay too…"

"I'm…" I began, a knot forming in my stomach. I think I'm gonna be sick; before I could stop myself, the words flew out of my mouth, "…Sure—sure, Steve. I…it'll be fun."

What was I supposed to say?

Author's Note: Hello there fellow Lomille shippers :D I'm sillyangelxo, newcomer to this lovely fandom hahah ;) Anyhow, I couldn't take how Big Time Crush ended! I swear, the writers are getting really good at cliff-hangers and continous plotlines, it's become irksome! And yet, I appreciate the fact that they're adding a little bit more spice into the mix xD Anyhow, I hope you liked! Review, neh? :P