Chapter 5 So Humiliating
Camille groaned as the warmth of her comforter was ripped away, the sudden rush of cold air hitting her like a slap. She instinctively curled into a ball, burying her face deeper into her pillow. "Go away," she mumbled, her voice muffled and heavy with sleep.
"Wake up, Camille," a familiar voice called out.
Camille peeked one eye open, only to see her mother standing in her bedroom. She sat up so fast that her head spun, her heart pounding in her chest. Camille blinked rapidly, trying to process what she was seeing. The sleepiness that had fogged her mind just seconds ago, vanishing in an instant.
Her mother stood at the foot of her bed, arms crossed, looking completely at ease, as if barging into her apartment at the crack of dawn was the most natural thing in the world.
Camille’s eyes widened, her breath hitching. "Mom?" she croaked, her voice still thick with sleep. "What are you doing here?" Looking at the clock next to her she groaned, knowing the reason for the visit.
"I'm here to make sure you don’t sleep through your first day."
Camille groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Mom, it’s too early. I still have time."
Janine walked to the window and pulled the curtains open. Daylight streamed in, forcing Camille to squint.
"It’s six," Janine said. "And you start work in an hour."
Camille shot up again. "Wait, what?!"
Her mother smirked. "I knew you’d sleep in, so I had to take matters into my own hands."
Camille threw her hands in the air. "So you broke into my apartment?"
"I used the spare key. Now, get up."
Camille flopped onto her back again, groaning dramatically. "This is a nightmare."
Ignoring her daughter's tirade, Janine walked over to the closet and pulled out an outfit she'd set out the week before. "Go take a shower and here, you'll be wearing this today."
Camille sat up and eyed the clothes in horror. "You picked out my clothes too?" She scoffed. "What is this? A school uniform?" Camille asked holding up the neatly pressed blouse and fitted slacks. "I’m not wearing this, mom. I’ll pick my own clothes."
"No, Camille. You’ll wear something professional," Janine said firmly. "No ripped jeans, no crop tops, no sneakers."
Camille crossed her arms. "I’m picking my own outfit."
Janine gave her a pointed look. "Do you want me to call your father and upset him so early on a Monday morning?"
That got Camille moving. She snatched the clothes and stomped to the bathroom, grumbling under her breath.
"I'll get your breakfast started, sweetie," Janine called out as she walked out of the bedroom. She smiled to herself. Camille would do anything to avoid upsetting her father.
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The car ride was filled with tension. Camille sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window with a deep frown.
"This is so humiliating, mom," she muttered.
"The only humiliating thing here is a grown woman refusing to wake up on time," Janine shot back smoothly. "Sweetie, cheer up. I think you’re being dramatic."
Camille slumped lower in her seat, huffing. "You could’ve at least let me drive myself."
Janine arched a brow. "Oh, you mean let you ‘accidentally’ take a wrong turn and end up at a café for three hours instead?"
Camille shot her mother a look. "That happened like one time, mom."
Janine smirked. "Thrice. It happened three times sweetie. And I'm your mother, I know you very well, Camille."
Camille groaned, throwing her head back against the seat. "You’re enjoying this way too much."
Janine chuckled at her daughter's words. "A little."
Silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional rustling of Camille’s fingers against her pants. She hated this, this whole situation, this whole morning. It wasn’t just about being forced to work. It was the feeling of being pushed into something she had no control over.
Janine glanced at her daughter, noticing the way her jaw tightened. "Sweetheart," she said gently. "I know you don’t want to do this."
"Wow. You think?" Camille scoffed.
"But," Janine continued, ignoring the sarcasm, "this is important. You need direction, and this job will help you find it."
Camille crossed her arms tighter. "I have direction."
Janine sighed. "Camille, partying, shopping and drinking yourself to a stupor, isn’t a career."
Camille’s grip on her arms loosened. "I don’t just party," she muttered.
Janine softened. "I know. But you’ve been floating through life without a plan. You’re too smart for that. You have potential and your father and I want to see you achieve that much."
Camille stared out the window, watching the buildings blur past. She didn’t like this conversation. Mostly because a small part of her knew her mother was right.
"I’m just saying," Janine continued, "give it a chance. Holland is amazing and you'll learn a lot from her and if you still hate it after a while, we’ll talk about other options."
Camille sighed. "Whatever."
Janine smiled slightly. "That’s the most agreement I’ll get, isn’t it?"
Camille playfully smirked at her mother, "Pretty much."
As they pulled into the company’s underground parking lot, Camille’s stomach twisted. The towering glass building loomed over her, polished and intimidating. This wasn’t just some random internship. This was the Lustrelle family business. And now, thanks to her family, she was being shoved into it.
Janine parked and turned to her daughter. "You’re going to be fine."
Camille didn’t respond. She just stared at the entrance.
Janine reached out and gave her hand a small squeeze. "I believe in you, Camille."
Camille swallowed hard. She hated how much that got to her. Maybe her parents were right, maybe she did need a change. There was something strangely inspiring about being up this early, as if the world held endless possibilities she hadn’t quite noticed before.
She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pushed the car door open. "Let’s get this over with."
Janine chuckled. "That’s the spirit. Have a great day ahead sweetie. I love you."
"I love you too, mom, Bye."
Watching her mom drive away, Camille squared her shoulders and walked toward the elevator, her heels clicking against the gleaming floor. Her heart pounded harder with each step, but she forced herself to keep moving. She had faced bigger things before, this was just another challenge.
Reaching the elevator, she pressed the button and waited, inhaling deeply to steady herself. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and she stepped inside, pressing the button for the right floor. As the doors closed, she met her own reflection in the mirrored walls.
"You can do this," she whispered under her breath.
The elevator hummed as it ascended, and she exhaled slowly. No big deal. It was just a job. Just a company. Nothing was too big for her.
As the floor number ticked higher, she straightened her blouse and lifted her chin. By the time the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, she was ready.