The Prodigious One

02

Camila Bernal was a name most young people in Miami knew. After a TikTok of her and her friends doing body shots at her daddy's boat went viral and gained about ten thousand followers in just one night, she decided she wanted to make social media her side job. But, can you really call it a job when you upload extremely curated morning routine videos and outfit-of-the-day photos, tag the fancy restaurants you frequent, and the clubs you hit at night? Wouldn't we all want that to be our job?

The thing is, people on the internet don't want to watch average gals like you and me. No, they want young and hot, high cheekbones, perfect thick brows framing siren eyes, tanned skin, and white teeth. They want to see big houses in neighborhoods they didn't even know existed, designer clothes they can't afford, and food they can't even pronounce. They want pretty and elegant, but sexy and wild. And Camila was all that. She was so effortlessly perfect.

Her obsession with being big on social media started with another obsession of hers, though: Lance Kingsley. After she saw those photos —the ones of him and a gorgeous British model exiting a hotel only a week after their breakup, she decided she'd start documenting just how fun her life was without him. Even if it was all a big fat lie. She was the saddest girl in the prettiest places, only smiling and dancing when the camera was pointing at her with the only hope that he'd see one of those posts.

But what started as a vendetta against her ex turned into something bigger. When people bombarded her videos with comments about how pretty she was and how much they loved her careless and silly personality, she felt something she never knew she was craving: adoration and idolization, and she took it, even if it came from strangers behind a screen.

"I can't believe el bastardo had the audacity to show up here," Selena said as she sipped her margarita and Camila almost choked on hers. She loved it when her cousin came up with new nicknames for Lance. They had decided to sunbathe on the in-pool lounge chairs for a bit while the adults enjoyed their version of a "party." Camila's mom was already playing Miami Sound Machine which meant it wouldn't be long until Selena suggested they'd go somewhere else.

"I don't think he came willingly. His father must've forced him."

"Still. He shouldn't have come." Selena shot him a stare; if looks could kill, he would've dropped dead at that very moment.

Camila looked back —Lance was staring. She went back to her margarita nonchalantly, trying her best to hide her smirk. She knew what she was doing when she went to her room and put on her yellow La'Mariette bikini. It used to be his favorite.

"Nina texted by the way," Sel continued. "She has two more classes and then she should be done for the day. Which means... Flamingo Pink tonight?"

Camila shrugged. She didn't care where they'd go as long as they were away from Lance. Or at least that's what she was trying to convince herself of because as soon as the sky went pitch black and Lance said goodbye to everyone, she couldn't help but wonder where he was going... or more like who he was meeting with.

"Shut. Up," Sel sat up straight, staring at her phone with her mouth open. "Gabe is at Platinum Pulse."

"This early?"

"Yeah, there's going to be like a special DJ guest or something. I think it might be Paris Hilton."

"Ugh, the place will be packed and..." Cami stopped talking for a second. Maybe that's where Lance was heading. Platinum Pulse was the place to be in Miami if you were famous or rich after all. "Paris Hilton, you said?"​

"Mm-hm," Sel nodded as she kept scrolling. "I know you hate Gabe's guts right now but can we please call him? I feel like really going hard tonight, and you know PP is..."