She's Mine | Camila Cabello and Neymar Jr

31

It was the next morning and I was at home sat with Lauren.

We were planning on going to watch Barca's final match of the season but Lauren wasn't feeling too well so instead, we decided to stay at home.

Barcelona had basically lost the league. They were also out of the Champions League but it didn't matter. They did have a good season, even if they didn't win anything.

I didn't really watch much football so I wouldn't know but I was proud of them all. Each day, they continue to improve.

Neymar texted me constantly begging me to go to their final match but I was going to stay with Lauren.

It was currently around five pm and I was cooking up some noodles for dinner.

I didn't like cooking much but it was a good skill to have so I did it anyway.

Plus, it was much healthier than takeout foods.

Lauren had 'Thirteen Reasons Why' on the TV. I knew she'd start crying at it because there was a huge rave about it and how emotional it was.

Once the food was done, I got plates out and placed a portion on each plate.

I served Lauren her food and then sat down beside her, eating mine.

Lauren couldn't eat her food properly because she was continuously crying her eyes out over the TV show.

I didn't know how to comfort her so I let her just cry it all out.

"Laur, I think you need some rest." I suggested.

"Yeah I think I do too." She sobbed.

I took her plate, out of her hands and then gave her support in walking to her room.

Her temperature was really high and I could tell that she was feeling weak.

Once I knew she was comfortable in her bed, I went back downstairs to clear up.

I washed the dishes and let them dry. I then cleaned up the mess I made when cooking.

My mind kept trailing off to how my life was so different back in America.

I moved here for the better and that's what happened.

I kept thinking about Liam.

I had so many questions to ask him.

Why did he treat me the way he did and then come running back to me?

I remember the countless times I would sit in my room or in my bathroom and just think to myself: why am I not good enough?

In the end, it wasn't me that was in the wrong. It was him.

I started walking upstairs to my room, with all these thoughts either following me or on my mind.

Even if I got over him, I still thought about him and the time that was spent in his company.

I sat on my bed and pulled out a notebook and pen and started writing.

I wrote my feelings and questions that were unanswered.

Why did you leave me here to burn?

Do you care? Why don't you care?

Tell me who you think you are?

Why would you try and play me for a fool?

Why weren't you, who you swore that you would be?

After putting every word I could down on the paper. I organised them into verses and choruses.

Hours went by and I finally created my own song.