CAMILA MORRONE.

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ | ᴊᴜɴᴇ 16ᴛʜ, 1997 | ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ / ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟ

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

chris: i'm glad to hear paris is still paris. i was worried it might have changed chris: also glad to hear the eiffel tower is still there chris: i just didn't want you be wondering why i left it for long. i promise i wanted to reach out a lot sooner than this chris: i wasn't even sure if i would hear from you now chris: it definitely was a lot and very unexpected chris: how about drinks? my treat, and we can just talk

[morrcnecami]

camila: here to ease your worries about that then. camila: yep. still sparkling and everything. camila: chris, i would've understood if you didn't reached out at all. really, don't worry about it. i wasn't really expecting anything. camila: truth be told, i don't really know why i'm replying camila: just can't seem to not do so camila: yeah alright.

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

chris: hey, hows it going? i hope you're okay. how is the fashion season going? chris: i just wanted to reach out and apologise for how things were left between us back in new york. i know i'm very late with this, but i was certain that you wouldn't want to hear from me. so i wanted to let things settle down first. chris: i'm back in new york for the weekend and i was hoping that maybe we could talk? i want to apologise in person and make things less awkward between us, because i hate this. // @morrcnecami

[morrcnecami]

camila: hey camila: it's going as it does. busy. paris wass still paris. eiffel tower in tact and all. camila: right. camila: i mean you're right, i didn't want to hear from you. not at first. camila: but i'm glad you did reach out, cause i think i'm the one who should be apologizing. camila: i wasn't fair on you either, so i do apologize. it was just too much there and then. camila: i think that might be wise. for both of us.

[dylcnobrien]

Sorry for bringing up that kind of trauma, I've just always looked up to the dude as an actor. Still firmly on board with the fact that it's super weird he only dates girls twenty-five and younger. If you have his old number, I'll go ahead and give it a try. Maybe he kept it after all these years. If not, then at least I tried and it just wasn't in the cards for me to connect with him. See I'm one of those people that firmly believes there wasn't room for both of them on that door. Because even if they did try again and again to both fit, their combined weight would have sunk the piece of wood to the point where they'd both be exposed to the water and would have both died. I will die on that hill.

[morrcnecami]

No worries at all, I’m used to it after all. But yeah his dating history is… I would say strange, but then again I’m part of it. But consistent? Could that be the word? Yeah in one way. Sure yeah I have it somewhere. You’re more than welcome to try, just not a word about who gave it to you in case you do get through to him. I don’t doubt you’ll have a chance to talk to him at some point though. Not that he attends many events, but no doubt you’ll find yourself in the same place sooner or later. Alright I hear you and I see your point. I’m just surprised anyone survived at all. Like when you actually put your hand into water that’s as cold as the water was last night.. like 30 seconds is all you can do. It’s insane.

[hayleysones]

Hayley: nope. I don't have the energy for those ones, ever. Plus just got back from europe so i don't want to adjust timezones again. Are you going to them?? Hayley: not something I want to imagine. I'd still be doing thick eyeliner that doesn't make any sense if it were up to me. Hayley: Chris? He didn't mention that. Are you doing okay? Hayley: just dabbling with demos, but yes. new music.

[morrcnecami]

cami: ah right i see. that makes sense. at least you got to experience some of the fashion month in new york at least. yeah i'm paris. always honored to be invited back. cami: hey look, as long as you're doing you.. then who's to judge? cami: yeah maybe i shouldn't have either. not really something we're talking about. or talking at all. i'm alright cami: about fucking timeeee. how exciting.

[dovenotorious]

Honestly, so valid of you. If my wife wanted me to go for a run I'd wonder who the hell she is and what they've done with the real Vic. Valid - we're just girls who need their sleepy time in bed. And hey, if anyone wants you to get cardio going in the morning then there's just sex. Which is far more satisfying for everyone involved. Honestly - I didn't even know you could get blisters from lifting weights so this is news to me. And even more reason for me to not step inside a gym. But the one thing I do know is usually there's spotters, right? Like, they're meant to help you if you're going to drop something. You've got a point there but my brain just likes having something tot latch onto and go through the steps. Otherwise I look like a chicken running around without its head. Not a pretty sight. I think I've been pretty lucky with them - at least with the movies that I've done. The TV show, not so much. But we'll ignore all of that. Nah, dude. Singing and acting is all I got. Can't draw. Oh. Maybe I can teach you French. I'm fairly fluent.

[morrcnecami]

You found yourself a good one there then. My ex was far too much into exercising. Sex and a run was his ideal way to start a day. Now whilst the latter wasn’t the reason for our breakup, it could’ve just as well been. Like anyone who tries to drag me out of bed for a run in the morning, they don’t know they’re on mission impossible. Right there with you. The only type of cardio that should even be allowed in the mornings. Really? Like you get them on your hands from the friction you create when you rub your hands against the weights as you lift them. Not a fun time, do not recommend. Yeah you should always have a spotter. You don’t want to find yourself under some weights and not being able to get the last push.. could have some terrible consequences. Yeah no that makes sense. Better to focus on the times you have been lucky and not waste time thinking about the others. Oh yeah? I’d learn some french. And if you ever wanna learn some Rioplatense Spanish, I’m your girl.

[notoriousvicd-deactivated202410]

oh, babe… i feel this on a spiritual level. nighttime ideas are like drunk texts to your ex—they seem genius in the moment, but then you wake up the next day with a “wtf have i done” hangover. i mean, pinterest had you out here thinking you’re about to create your own little hgtv moment, and now you’re sleeping on the couch like a rejected contestant. classic. i’ve definitely had those “let’s redo my entire life (or at least my space)” impulses. like, suddenly i’m convinced i need a whole new aesthetic at 2 am,and the next thing i know, i’m elbow-deep in mood boards and paint samples. except, unlike you, i don’t even get to the painting part because i’ve usually talked myself out of it by sunrise. not a morning person, so the thought of manual labor before coffee? hell no. but listen, the couch isn’t your permanent address, okay? you’ll get back in there. just give it time, maybe toss some new pillows around or something. or get someone else to paint over it while you sip wine and supervise like the queen you are. you deserve that. and let’s be real—sleep deprivation makes everything feel like the end of the world, so maybe once you get a solid night’s sleep (or three), you’ll finally decide if you're brave enough to tackle that room again.

[morrcnecami]

yeah i think it’s also the impulsive thought of if i fix this room, it’ll fix my soul.. or brain.. or whatever body part if fucking you up. like we gaslight ourselves to fix something else instead of dealing with the actual elephant in the room. wow, teach me your ways. by the time you’ve talked yourself out of it, i’m on my way to buy the paint, i kid you not. although i will admit, then i’ve had moments where i’ve actually liked my decisions and i think that’s also why i’m influencing myself in the worst of ways cause i keep thinking “well i didn’t hate it last time”. but we all know it’s just a matter of time before i turn myself in to the psych ward for doing something obscure. thanks babe, i appreciate your voice of confidence. i had a moment of rage the other night and splashed red wine on the wall and that was a vibe. thinking i might actually need to paint the walls red wine maroon. honestly just knock me the fuck out at this point. sleep? what’s that? i don’t know.. too much shit and traveling through timezones for my brain. i’m convinced once i’m back home and finished painting that bedroom into a color i actually enjoy, that’s when i’ll find peace. meaning a good nights sleep.

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

"I thought that was the whole point of those fashion shows? To make things that are just impossible to wear in normal circumstances." Chris confessed with a shrug. She probably knew more about it than he did. To the untrained eye, it simply looked like a bunch of fabric had been through onto the models just before they stepped out. However, he was certain that to those with a passion, it was creative and genius. Things quickly went silent again between them, something that was to be expected. The comfortable conversations was a thing of the past. They had been replaced by the awkward small talk that you often shared with a stranger. Chris got the sense that Camila didn't really want to talk to him, and so instead he stayed quiet, watching as she prepared the food.

Despite the food being ready, it seemed like neither of them made an attempt to take a plate. Instead, pale eyes followed Camila as she now faced him, resting against the counter. Her words had been unexpected. They had quickly become very good at masking the elephant in the room, pretending like nothing was going on between them. So, when Camila suddenly began to open up, Chris was caught off guard, he didn't know what to say. Instead, he studied her face for a second, truly looking into her eyes for what felt like the first time that night. He saw the sadness, the hurt, the pain, but most importantly - the anger. All emotions he had brought on himself, and it was something he would live with for the rest of his life. One stupid mistake on his behalf had cost him a woman he had started to love, who he saw spending the rest of his life with.

"I have to admit, you inviting me up here came as a bit of a shock." His arms fell to his sides, almost like a visual hint that he was ready to be vulnerable as well. "If I'm being honest, I didn't even expect you to join me in the diner. I don't even know why I asked. Maybe it's weakness on both sides, maybe it's just acting out of habit, who really knows." It seemed like they were both confused, caught like deer in headlights, acting out of character in the situation.

"Look," Chris let out a sigh as he stood straighter, taking a couple of steps forwards, dropping the 'everything's okay' façade. "I can see my presence makes you uncomfortable, which is expected. I'm not about to force you to pretend like you're okay with this, I'm also not about to stay when things still hurt between us. So, how about I just leave?" Chris gestured towards the door of the kitchen, before looking back at her. "You can keep the food, have the leftovers for breakfast. I still really care about you Camila, and the last thing I want to do is make you unhappy again, just by being here."

[morrcnecami]

Camila’s heart clenched tighter with each word Chris spoke, his quiet vulnerability crashing against the walls she had spent months building around herself. She had been the one to invite him up, hadn’t she? But now, as he stood there, offering her the chance to send him away again, the weight in her chest felt suffocating. Logically, she knew she should let him go. His presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, anger, and a longing that threatened to undo all the progress she had made in moving on. It would be easier to let him leave, to slip back into the life she had pieced together without him. That was the rational choice.

But then there was the other part. The part of her that still ached for him, the part that clung to the memory of what they once had—the laughter, the intimacy, the love that had burned so brightly before it all fell apart. No matter how much pain he had caused her, that part wasn’t ready to let him walk out of her life again. Her gaze darted between the untouched food on the counter and Chris, standing just a few feet away, stripped of the bravado he usually hid behind. His awkward jokes were gone, replaced by an unguarded rawness that shook her to her core. It terrified her, how much this moment mirrored what they used to be—before everything went wrong.

Camila swallowed, her throat dry, words struggling to form in the mess of her thoughts. “I don’t know,” she began, her voice barely a whisper, the vulnerability in her tone surprising even herself. “Part of me doesn’t know if I want you to leave.” The admission felt like an unraveling, a thread she had pulled too tight and now couldn’t stop from fraying. Her heart raced, the weight of each syllable heavy with uncertainty and something else she couldn’t quite name. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she glanced away, feeling the tension rise between them. “I mean... it would be easier, wouldn’t it?” she added, her voice wavering, as if she were trying to convince herself of the truth. “For both of us.” The words felt hollow, a thin veil over the deeper emotions she couldn’t push down. She sighed, her breath shaky. “I might just be fucking selfish, I don’t know...”

Her mind spun, tangled in the mess of her feelings, overwhelmed by his presence and everything unsaid between them. The hurt, the regret, the longing—none of it fit neatly into words. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to try anymore. But standing there, with Chris so close, so open and exposed, the pull toward him was undeniable. It was as if her body moved on instinct, a force she couldn’t control.

“Let me just try one thing...” she murmured, the words barely escaping her lips before she closed the distance between them, her resolve snapping under the weight of the moment. The moment their lips met, it was like a dam breaking—months of longing, pain, and frustration flooding out in one fierce, passionate wave. Her hands moved to his face, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn’t get close enough. His warmth, his scent, the taste of him—it was all so achingly familiar, yet it felt like they were discovering each other again for the first time. The kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce, hot, an explosion of everything she had buried inside for so long—anger, longing, pain, and desire, all crashing together in a single, breathless moment.

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

Chris simply nodded as Camila seemingly rejected his offer, claiming she's rather just go home. It had been expected and even though Chris had been hoping she'd say yes, but he wasn't about to pressure the actress into it. After everything, he deserved the rejection, she didn't owe him her time. Suddenly, Chris didn't feel hungry, wondering if he should just give her the food, or throw it in the trash on his way back to the hotel. Chris waited for her to leave first, but yet she stayed still, just staring between him and the ground. The actor furrowed his brows a little, wondering what exactly the hold up could be. Surely she would be desperate to get away from him, with her freedom only a few steps away. He could just walk away first, but somehow walking away from Camila, leaving her on the sidewalk late at night didn't feel right.

He was just about to say goodbye, wondering if that had been what the brunette was waiting on, when suddenly she spoke up again. Her words took Chris off guard, maybe he had taken her out of context from before. Misunderstood what she had meant, unless she had quickly changed her mind. Was she inviting him up to her apartment? Chris couldn't mask the soft smile that formed as the tension seemingly began to fade. "It's New York style, one of the best," Chris offered as if he needed to tempt the brunette into spending time with him. Although it seemed like she had already made her mind up.

"Okay, warmed up pasta sounds better than cold pasta," neither one sounded particularly appetising. But really, Chris had mainly accepted her offer simply just to see her, to talk to her. He kept his hopes minimal and his expectations non existent. Despite knowing that this wasn't the best idea, Chris followed Camila towards the familiar steps of her apartments. They had spent many nights here and just as many mornings making breakfast together, sharing stories over their first coffee of the day. With Camila a head of him, Chris smiled briefly at the memories, allowing himself just a second to remember them.

Not before long they had reached the door to Camila's apartment, crossing the threshold as he closed the door behind them. Nothing had changed, the familiarity gave him a sense of comfort and warmth. Almost clouding him with a false sense of hope as they travelled towards the kitchen. Chris put the bag down on the counter, allowing her to sort out the food so he wasn't over stepping the mark. He stood against the wall, leaning back as his arms folded against his broad chest. While he used to treat this place like his own, he was simply a stranger now. A guest that he still didn't know was wanted or not. "So, what did you think of the show earlier? There was definitely some .. interesting .. fashion choices on the runway."

[morrcnecami]

The second the words left her mouth, offering him to come upstairs, she couldn’t help but to question if she had just made a massive mistake. Why did she invite him up? Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to tear herself away. It would’ve been easy to just walk away. But she didn’t. And she hadn’t at the event either. Camila led him up the steps to her apartment, but even as she moved, there was a strange heaviness in her chest. She was keenly aware of how familiar this path was, how many times they'd walked it together. Each step felt like it pulled her further into some invisible thread that tied them, despite everything that had happened between them. She could hear Chris’ footsteps behind her, steady but tentative, as if he wasn’t sure he was really meant to be there either.

When they reached the door, Camila’s hand hovered on the knob for just a second, a flicker of hesitation she didn’t fully understand. Why was she doing this? Inviting him up like old times, as if the past six months hadn’t crumbled into something bitter and broken. As if he hadn't hurt her in a way that still stung when she allowed herself to think about it. She swallowed the lump in her throat, turning the knob and stepping into the space that had once felt like theirs, but now she had been forced to make her own again after everything fell apart. 

As she walked toward the kitchen, Camila could feel his presence behind her, strong and quiet. She could almost sense the memories tugging at him too—the mornings, the laughter, the intimacy they’d shared. She didn’t turn to look at him, though. She couldn't. Her body moved on autopilot, placing the food on the counter, her movements steady, though her mind was anything but. Her fingers absentmindedly began to unpack the food, the scent of garlic bread wafting up like a strange reminder of the life they'd almost built together. She glanced over at him, leaning against the wall, arms folded in that familiar, relaxed way. 

She forced herself to respond, keeping her tone light, though she felt anything but. “Interesting is one way to put it. I’m not sure if it’s fashion or performance art at this point,” she said, her lips curving into a small, wry smile. “Some pieces looked like they were designed to be unwearable.” She placed the last of the food onto the counter, her movements growing slower. Camila didn’t know what to say to him, not really. Not about fashion, not about the show, not about this absurd, painful dance they were doing. It felt like they were circling something much bigger, much more dangerous.

The silence stretched between them again, like a fragile thread about to snap. She took a deep breath, leaning back against the counter opposite him, her arms crossing over her chest like a shield. The distance between them was nothing more than a few feet, but felt as if  it might as well have been miles. “I don’t really know why I asked you up here,” she said quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor, avoiding his. Her voice wavered, and she hated that it did, hated that she still felt so vulnerable, so raw. “But I guess part of me just... couldn’t walk away. I don’t know why.” Her eyes lifted slowly, finding his, and for the first time, she let him see the conflict, the anger, the hurt that still simmered beneath the surface. “I don’t know if that’s weakness or something else entirely. But I’m not ready to pretend we’re just two people making small talk about a fashion show, like everything’s fine.” The words hung in the air, heavy with truth.

[andrewhoziers]

For someone so young, you're incredibly wise beyond your years, I hope ya know that. Best preserve your own peace of mind rather than dive into the unknown and cause yourself any kinda harm. There was a time I was a lot more active on twitter, I don't use it much as of now, at least not in the sense of expressing thoughts as such. You're not missing out, I'll tell ya that much. It's certainly a hrad scratcher when you realise there are folks out there who spend their days dedicated to our careers. It's dead flattering but extremely confusing at the same time. You'd be correct in your assumption. Sometimes I struggle to believe that this is the reality we live in. I want a career, but the fame that comes along with it leaves a lot to be desired. Back in Wicklow, snails are a given, especially during the cooler months. You'll find then all about in your garden, it's hard to escape. Don't get me wrong, I'm dead happy they exist, but the comparison isn't exactly one of substance. Ah, well thanks very much. Do I want to know what you think of me when you see me, or is that best kept underwraps. My ego is already painfully fragile from the snail comparison. Ya know, it's okay to think you're beautiful and you're not wrong to think so, you are pretty and the comparison to the antelope makes sense in my mind, at least. They're wonderful creatures, so if anything I'm just happy you brought them up. Look, owls are cool as fuck. The head turn, the flight, the ability to look unnerving, Christ, I love the beasts. Dunno about piloting. Not sure it's for me, but I could always look into it I suppose. Have you ever done anything like that? I don't like the idea of being responsible for other people's lives, ya know? That's a rather daunting task.

[morrcnecami]

It’s not something I hear on a daily basis, no. But I appreciate you saying that and I can just hope there’s some truth to it. I don’t like to cast myself as a nepo baby, but I’m sure the phrase has been thrown around alongside my name — but nonetheless, I’m very thankful to have had parents and people surrounding me growing up, that have been in the public light and helped me early on to realize what’s important to focus on in life. The texts and talks of random people on the internet were never on the list of what to focus on. People make up all sorts of shit and delve into business that is none of their business to delve into - it’s better to keep from it altogether, for your own sanity. Then again, each to their own and I can see the appeal of being able to interact with fans and whatnot and using your voice for what’s good.. But I’ve often thought that the negative sadly outweighs the positives in a lot of the cases. Really is quite extraordinary, isn’t it? Then again, where would we be if we didn’t have the support of those sorts of people. But yeah, it’s insane. And I can imagine in your case, it must get really quite intense at times. Yeah no, it’s not why we do it, is it? I’d be far happier if I could do what I do without it automatically meaning that the paparazzi are going to follow my tail if I step outside my home. — Wicklow, that’s Ireland right? I don’t know why, but it feels like it makes sense that there would be lots of snails there. And I don’t mean that in a condescending way. More than I imagine there’s lots of woods and grass and stuff for them to be. I don’t know but it sounds like it makes more sense for them to be roaming the lands of Ireland than say LA for example, you know? I mean, I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it much. But I can for sure tell you that it wouldn’t be a snail. I think maybe a wolf? Yeah that makes sense actually. Your music has that haunting, raw energy much like a wolf. Feels like you have a deep connection to nature, which also makes sense. Ah well, thank you, that’s very kind of you to say. And no I know it’s not something you’re not allowed to think. But you know, some people are just sensitive and they’ll take it as if you’ve got a big head and all. They really are though, aren’t they? Something majestic about their whole demeanor. Who says you have to be? You can always just fly a plane yourself. Me? No, god no. I mean I’m so accident prone, I wouldn’t even dare to think what could happen. But I have some friends who have pilots licenses, and they love it. I mean you don’t have to fly massive commercial flights and such. But I imagine there is a sense of freedom to it and just being able to, I mean that’s cool as fuck. 

[taylorsswlft]

89 is a great number for me, so I'm guessing the age will be as well. I'll tell you all about it once I reach that age, seeing as I'll reach that milestone long before you. Something tells me even in old age, I'll still be attempting to outwit the people around me just to prove a point. I guess it's true what they say about great minds thinking alike. There's no one I'd rather share a brain cell with. It's nice to know that I can look over at you and we'll be thinking the exact same think — there's aome kind of comfort in that. Maybe it's the comfort of knowing if I'm losing my grip on reality, I'm not the only one. We have to be one step ahead when it comes to the Christmas game. Especially when I won't be around to do much shopping. New Years Eve 2024 had to be the most incredible, lively, music fest of all time. We need to have people talking about that part for decades to come. I'm down to make it happen if you are. Who else would bring it to life? All my faith resides in you. LA would throw me through a spiral if I chose to live there full time. I need the seasons to actually change. We've been missing out on baking together this whole time. Sometimes that joint brain cell we share doesn't work at full capacity and it shows. It sucks to be missing out on my favourite time of year, but at least I'm doing something I love on it's place. Complaining about that feels like I'm being ungrateful, which I'm trying not to be. I really do love my job. Would you really send me photos? You're going to make me cry. You're actually the best, you know that? New York needs the both of us to reach it's full potential. We breathe life into the city. I am enjoying the time off, but I'm so ready to get back out there. I miss it when I'm not doing it. How have you been, Cami? What's been keeping that beautiful mind of yours busy.

[morrcnecami]

See, the way I didn’t even think that far and actually just said a random number — I think it just proves even further how connected we actually are. Oh c’mon now, you act like you’re double my age, but in a weird way I also appreciate that you’ll tell me. I mean personally, I would start questioning how you are if you don’t. I get that old age gets to you at some point - but the longer we have a Taylor that tries to outwit everyone, the better. Right though? It’s the way we can communicate with the exchange of one look and not a single word uttered between us. Love that for us. Those kinds of friendships only come along once every blue moon, and I’m glad we found each other at one of those. Oh god yeah, absolutely. Going absolutely insane most of the time? That’s me. And the biggest comfort is knowing that you’re not far behind me. Fuck that is true.. I didn’t even think about you spending most of the holidays and leading up to Christmas on the road. Then you have all the reasons to be way ahead. But even if that wasn’t the case, I think starting early is key. I’m not the best at it, I do tend to run around at the last minute. Although I do always get told I’m a good gift giver. What if by starting out too early I loose my game? Oh you don’t have to ask twice. You know if anyone is up for a good party, it’s me. And if I have you by my side? We literally can not loose. Make it legendary. I call it right here, right now - it’ll be the New Years eve party of the century. I mean I lived there my whole life up until last year.. did I loose my mind? Possibly yes. But also I didn’t really know much different. Would always have to travel during the seasons, to watch them change. Now, whilst I love those trips - having it right outside my window now is far more special. As much as I love LA, New York is just so different when it comes to the seasons. I think we have our weaker moments. And by we, I mean the braincell, that neither of us are in control of. I don’t know why we’ve never done it, but we’ll change that. No c’mon babe, no one would ever doubt that. Everyone knows you love it, how could you not? But I mean, you’re only a human. You’re allowed to feel a little bit sad, despite the fact that you’re so happy to be doing what you’re doing. At least in my opinion. And I will keep quiet about how you really feel about missing out on it to myself. Oh my god of course? I’ll even have a daily reminder so I never forget. Imagine then when you can scroll through so many of the pictures and visually see the seasons change still.. I’m going to do it, mark my words babe. Starting the moment you’re back on the road. New York is never the same without you, you know it. I can imagine huh? You get so used to it that it must almost feel like life stops when you get some time off. Not too long ‘til you’re back out there at least. I’ve been okay. I’ve just been keeping myself busy with work and whatnot. Just yeah, trying to keep busy.

[hayleysones]

Hayley: my second proper fashion week. Insanity. Maybe next year I’ll actually be used to the chaos of everything. Going to bed at night was the best feeling. My feet were grateful.

Hayley: thanks to my amazing team and putting all the looks together. Couldn’t have done it without them. Probs would have rocked up in jeans and a shirt otherwise.

Hayley: only decent??? Mhmm. That doesn’t sound great. What’s going on? Things are good! Working on new music, visiting friends & family and just getting settled into ‘normal’ life.

[morrcnecami]

cami: trust me, you don't ever really get used to it. but it's thrilling though. goes by so quickly and then you're off to the next city. are going to milan or paris too? cami: god yeah, feel that.. what would we do without those amazing people around us? i'm glad i don't have to do it myself cause god knows i'd be questioning everything. now i just go with the flow and trust the team around me. cami: yeah well decent.. good.. not too bad. any of those. i'm okay. just ran into chris the other day and that kind of made my brain the equivalent of a salad spinner you know? anyways. new music ??? hello ?? that sounds super fucking exciting.

[hayleysones]

imsg || cami

Hayley: hey.

Hayley: long time no talk. I saw you at fashion week and feel terrible for not stopping and saying hello. Forgot how crazy those events can get & all but not an excuse.

Hayley: you ofc looked stunning.

Hayley: this is me doing a poor attempt in checking in. How’re you?? @morrcnecami

[morrcnecami]

cami: this sure is a pleasant surprise. cami: oh please don't feel bad about it. fashion week is hectic for everyone okay, so no need to feel bad. as much as one enjoys it, it can be a bit much. do love reuniting with my bed at the end of the night, can't lie. cami: awh thank you hayley, you're too sweet. and as did you of course? like hello? totally killed it. not that i'm surprised in the slightest. cami: far from poor i'd say. i appreciate you reaching out no matter what. i'm decent i'd say. how are you? how are things post tour?

[anxietyproblem]

[chrisevansx]

I hope Kaia didn't get you in the break up because I still consider you a close friend and would love it if we could still hang out. I'm willing to share. Since we don't see each other as much anymore, no more double dating and all that, how have you been doing? Managed to keep yourself busy? @morrcnecami

[morrcnecami]

Austin, buddy.. of course Kaia got me in the breakup, she is practically my sister after all. But hey, that doesn't mean we can't still be friends right? I mean, it's not like Kaia is forcing me to never interact with me again if I talk to you. You know she's not the devil after all. Yeah no I mean, we all chose a great time to become single at pretty much the same time huh? Killed all the hopes of double dates. At least the ones we did have were a fun time. Yeah no I've been alright. Been working most of the summer, you know.. trying to make time go by. No but it's been very exciting. Very thankful to have gotten the chance to participate in the next season of The Night Manager, so couldn't really complain. What about you? I know you've been keeping yourself busy with your thousands of projects. But how have you been?

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

Even as he walked out of the diner, goods collected in a white paper bag, Chris still didn't really know why out of all the food places in New York, he had chosen that one. It wasn't until he felt the cool night air on his face that he realised how crazy his decision had been. Who goes to a diner they weren't really fond of, that was streets away from his hotel, on a night when flagging down a cab was merely impossible. Chris felt stupid for the second time that night.

After deciding just to accept his fate, wondering if walking would be quicker than waiting for a cab, pale eyes looked up to see Camila stood staring back at him. For a moment his brows furrowed in confusion, was she following him? Wait. Had she gone after him? A sliver of hope shot through his body at the thought of her changing her mind, that maybe she wanted to see him after all. The vision was quickly shattered at the realisation that her apartment was next door, and yet again he was invading in her world.

As Camila mentioned his odd choice in a late night meal, Chris glanced up at the large LED sign. "Well, someone once recommended this place to me. I figured while I'm here I might as well give it another go." He looked back at her again with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "I don't think I gave it a fair chance last time. I went for the carbonara this time." Chris began to chew on the inside of his cheek as he went back and forth on his next choice of words.

"If you're hungry I can share?" Chris quickly regretted his decision, but couldn't turn back now. "I got way too much for one person. I have garlic bread and a massive slice of cheesecake. We can eat inside the diner if you'd prefer a public place." The more Chris spoke the more he knew that he was just digging a bigger hole for himself. One that he would have to jump into soon, depending on her answer.

[morrcnecami]

Camila stood frozen, eyes locking onto Chris as if the universe had played some cruel joke. Of all the places in New York, of all the moments in time, he had to be here right now — outside her building, holding a takeout bag from the diner that held too many memories. Months had passed where they had been fortunate to not run into each other. Now? Twice in one night? — As he spoke, the air between them felt thick with unspoken tension, his words only adding to the weight already pressing down on her chest. She listened in silence as Chris tried to explain his presence, mentioning the carbonara and casually shrugging off his choice as if it didn’t carry the same emotional gravity it did for her. It stung—he was here, basically standing on her doorstep, holding a piece of their past in his hands, and yet he seemed so nonchalant. But the look on his face said more than his words did. Part of her didn’t want to think she still had the ability to read his expressions better than he thought. In fact, part of her thought the whole situation might as well just be easier if he really actually was nonchalant about the whole thing. 

When he offered to share the food, something inside her tightened. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. The memories of their first nights together, sitting in that very diner laughing over greasy plates of pasta, flickered through her mind like scenes from a distant, forgotten life. Or the nights where they had too much to drink and the cooking seemed like the last grand option and they’d stumble down to fetch their midnight carbonara. Part of her wanted to snap at him, to tell him he was out of line, but another part—a quieter, more vulnerable part—felt the ache of nostalgia. Camila swallowed hard, the words catching in her throat. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the faint hope lingering in the air between them. 

“Actually… I think I’d rather just go home.” The words slipped from her lips, but they didn’t carry the certainty she wished they did. It should have been so easy—she could just turn him down, walk those few short steps to her apartment, and close the door on this chapter for good. But something rooted her to the spot, like she was suspended between the desire to leave and a pull she couldn’t quite shake. Why couldn’t she just walk away? Her rational mind screamed at her to go, but her body—her heart—betrayed her. Despite turning down his offer of food, despite every reason she had to sever this connection, she stayed. The pull of him, of their past, of what they once shared, held her in place.

Swallowing hard, she looked down at the pavement, her gaze following the movement of her foot as she kicked the tip of her shoe against the ground. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying to ground herself. “Although… cheesecake doesn’t sound too bad right now,” she muttered, the words escaping before she could stop them, startling herself with their honesty. Her chest tightened as if her two selves were at war—one scolding her for her weakness, the other quietly admitting that some part of her still longed for his presence. She took a deep breath and looked back up at him, meeting his gaze. “I mean, the pasta’s probably cold by now anyway. At least I have a microwave.” The words were softer this time, almost resigned, as if she was giving in to something beyond her control. Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the entrance of her building, feeling the weight of each step as if she was carrying all the confusion and longing that lingered between them. She didn’t look back, leaving him to decide whether to follow. And the truth was, she didn’t know what she was hoping for—whether she wanted him to stay or go.

[perfectday1972]

camila morrone via instagram

[chmswcrth1-deactivated20251125]

"I know, I'm -" Chris stopped himself from saying 'sorry' yet again. He truly had exhausted the term at this point. "I know," he repeated instead while his shoulders slumped down, not knowing what else to say. Words were useless now, and actions were out of the question. He had no way of proving how sorry he truly was, all Chris could do was hope that one day she could forgive him. The last time they had spoken was during the break up, where they couldn't say anything without it ending in an argument. The actor was ashamed at some of the things he had said out of panic and hurt. The main one being that it wasn't working. Because for him, it was the happiest he had been in a long while. Chris had a feeling that it could end the same way tonight, something he really didn't have the energy for.

"It's not easy on either of us, which is why I'm leaving. Please don't go if you don't want to. Stay and enjoy yourself." He didn't want to be the reason she ended her night early. Chris put down the untouched beer, thankful that the drinks were complementary. A part of him wanted to stay, to hit up the bar for a stronger drink - or four. While it might help temporarily, Chris knew that getting drunk wasn't the answer. "It was good to see you again," Chris gave a small smile before turning to leave. The actor didn't wait for her to respond, knowing that he had already overstayed his welcome.

Within minutes, Chris was outside in the cool, New York air. Despite the time, the city was still very much alive, from party goers to staff thankful to be leaving work. The car was already outside waiting, giving him the quick getaway from the paparazzi that he had been hoping for. Chris stared out of the window as the car drove through the city streets, taking in nothing that he saw.

"Wait, stop!" Chris suddenly called out, causing the driver to jump to a halt. Chris thanked the older male before getting out, standing in front of the familiar, small diner as the car left him behind. He was no where near the hotel, but Chris was drawn to the first place that Camila had taken him. While she claimed it was her favourite, Chris hadn't been so sure. But, it reminded him of her. The good memories of late night dates inside filled his mind. It was probably a bad idea, but Chris eagerly walked inside.

[morrcnecami]

Camila knew there was no way she could just brush off the fact that Chris had walked back into her life, pretending for the rest of the night as if nothing had happened. The moment had rattled her too deeply. So, only minutes after Chris left, she decided to slip out of the building herself, deliberately waiting just long enough to ensure he’d be gone by the time she stepped outside. But New York City had other plans. Fashion Week traffic clogged the streets, turning what should have been a quick fifteen-minute cab ride into a slow, crawling thirty.

As she finally stepped out of the taxi, she murmured a soft thank you to the driver, smoothing her hair over her shoulder as she closed the door. Her eyes shifted toward the entrance of her building, ready to retreat into the sanctuary of her apartment—until she saw him. Her breath hitched in her throat. It felt like something out of a surreal novel—Chris, standing there on the sidewalk, holding a takeout bag from her favorite diner. The very place she had taken him when they first started dating. Her stomach tightened, sinking with the weight of realization. She didn’t need to ask why he had gone there. She knew. And the significance of that simple bag of food settled over her like a dense fog, pulling her deeper into the past she had been trying so hard to escape.

The night had already been a whirlwind of emotions—seeing him again, feeling the sharp pang of his presence, and now this. It was like the universe had a cruel sense of humor, throwing them together in the places that meant the most, stirring up the remnants of a past she’d been trying so hard to forget. Her eyes flicked to the takeout bag in his hand. The smell wafted toward her, pulling her back to late-night dinners, when everything had felt new and less complicated. Chris hadn’t seen her yet. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at the ground, shoulders slumped in a way that made him look far smaller than he was. Camila took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking. “Out of all places in New York huh?” she said, her voice softer than she intended, but with an unmistakable edge. She didn’t need to ask why he had chosen that place. She knew exactly why. It was the same reason she had avoided it for months.