MANIC

“Come on, Kymoi, it’ll be fun,” her best friend Akari whined.

Kymoi shook her head at the thought. She wasn’t worried about missing a party—she’d rather stay in, relax, and get her work done.

The two girls were in Kymoi’s bedroom.

A student at Florida State University, Kymoi was far from home. Florida still didn’t feel like it belonged to her—not the way Louisiana did. Every time she went back to visit family, the return only made the homesickness worse.

Thank God for Akari, though. She was the only real piece of home Kymoi had with her during her third year of school. Akari kept her grounded, always there on her worst days.

“Kari, I don’t think I’ll be going. I’ve got too much shit to do.”

Kari repeated the last part in unison with her, then sighed.

“You’re such a fucking workaholic,” she said, half-joking. “You can’t even be a damn alcoholic for once.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

Kari wasn’t wrong.

But if sacrificing nights like this meant walking across that stage with a psychology degree in her hands?

Fuck a party. Fuck a gathering.

Then Ky paused.

One night wouldn’t hurt.

“C’mon, bitch, we gotta get sexyyy,” Akari whined again, dragging out the word as she flopped back onto the bed.

Ky rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, pushing her chair back with a sigh. Maybe—just maybe—she could give herself the night off.

After being barcaded with “please” from Kari.

Kymoi finally gave in

After being barricaded with please after please from Kari, Kymoi finally gave in.

“Fine—fine! I’ll go,” Ky said, holding her hands up in defeat.

Akari squealed, nearly vibrating with excitement now that her best friend had finally accepted.

“Yessss! And when we go, you can see yo’ man again,” she added, her voice dripping with teasing.

Kymoi paused.

She knew exactly who Akari meant.

Tyriq.

He and Ky were just friends. Really good friends. So what if they hung out all the time? Smoked together sometimes? That’s what friends did… right?

They’d only known each other for five months, but it felt longer. They clicked instantly—same humor, same goofiness. A real homegirl–homeboy type bond.

Still… sometimes, when Tyriq looked at her, there was something else in his eyes. Not lust. Something softer. Something he didn’t quite know how to act on yet.

“Okay—first of all, Ms. Party Up,” Kymoi said with a laugh.

Akari dropped her jaw dramatically.

“He is not my man. He is my homeboy, okay?”

“Yeahhh,” Akari dragged out, smirking. “That’s what they all say about they fuck buddies.”

“Of course you would know,” Kymoi shot back, playful but sharp.

“Oh bitch, fuck you,” Akari said, clutching her chest in mock shock. “But you know what? Imma let you have that one.”

“Whatever, girl. What are you wearing to this shindig?”

“Something that’s gon’ have all these niggas pressed—and these bitches shook,” Akari replied, scrolling through her phone without even looking up.

“I know that’s right, but uh… what time we gotta be there?” Kymoi asked, glancing at the clock.

“The flyer said six,” Akari replied. “It’s two right now, so let’s get our outfits out ahead of time.”

“Bet”

By the time the clock finally hit six, the girls were already there—music thumping, bodies packed together, the air buzzing with energy.

Akari stepped in first, confidence loud before she ever said a word. Her outfit did exactly what she promised it would—turning heads, making statements, daring anyone to look twice. https://pin.it/1IkWZzvQf

Kymoi followed close behind, adjusting her fit as she scanned the room. She felt good. Really good. The kind of good that made her stand a little taller, walk a little slower. Like maybe tonight didn’t belong to her textbooks or her laptop. https://pin.it/5FmptMkh6

Maybe tonight could just be… tonight.

The smell of marijuana hit the girls almost instantly.

“Whew! Who’s smokin’ up in here?” Akari said, laughing as she quoted Janet Jackson.

All Kymoi could do was laugh. “I’m finna catch a contact, damn near.”

“Right!”

Tyriq stood off to the side, talking with one of his homeboys, his eyes drifting back to Kymoi.

“Why you ain’t just shoot yo’ shot?” his friend asked.

Tyriq shrugged, his eyes drifting across the room.

“I don’t know… I just feel like if I did that, it would’ve felt rushed.”

He paused.

“I don’t wanna fuck it up.”

His friend followed Tyriq’s line of sight and smirked.

“Yeah… you not slick,” he said. “You been watchin’ her since she got here.” He passed the joint back to Tyriq.

Tyriq scoffed, shaking his head. “Nigga, shut up.”

Across the room, Akari leaned closer to Kymoi, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Bitch,” she murmured, not breaking eye contact with Tyriq. “Tell me why your homeboy been staring at you like he tryna read your soul.”

Kymoi frowned. “What?”

Akari nodded subtly in his direction. “Him. Right there. The big yellow nigga.”

Kymoi followed her gaze—and froze.

Tyriq looked away just a second too late.

Akari leaned in even closer to Kymoi, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

“Bitch,” she whispered, voice low but sharp, “you gonna pretend you don’t see him? Or we gon’ let him think you scared?”

Kymoi rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “I’m not scared.”

Akari scoffed. “Please. You’re frozen. Look at you.” She jabbed a finger toward Tyriq. “Go. Say something. Or imma drag your ass over there myself.”

Kymoi’s heart skipped. Akari’s grin widened, clearly loving the chaos she was causing.

Tyriq, catching the movement from across the room, blinked—like he finally noticed she was watching him too.

Akari clapped her hands softly, mock-excited. “Y’all gonna talk, or we just stand here like statues?”

Kymoi groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. Akari’s energy was too much, but damn, it was exactly what she needed.

“Girl, shut yo’ ass up!” Kymoi muttered, rolling her eyes as she started walking over to him.

Sativa by Jhené Aiko started playing, the soft bass wrapping around the red glow of the lights. The party blurred around her—bodies moving, music thumping—but for a second, it all felt like it faded out.

“Is it hot in here, or is it just me? I’m so high in here, been smokin’ all this weed.”

Kymoi weaved through the crowd, nerves buzzing and heart beating a little faster than she wanted to admit. Finally, she reached Tyriq.

“Wassup, Ky,” Zade greeted, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Hey, Z!” she replied, hugging back, smiling just a little too hard.

Zade cleared his throat, grinning. “Aight, imma leave y’all two alone.” He patted Tyriq on the shoulder and drifted off, disappearing into the crowd.

Kymoi exhaled slowly, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between her and Tyriq. The music, the lights, the party chaos—it all felt like it existed just around them now.

“Well, I’m surprised you’re out tonight,” Tyriq teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Ms. Gotta get my work done.”

Kymoi rolled her eyes, trying to hide her grin. She hugged him quickly… but it lasted a little longer than she expected, and she felt him linger on his end just a second too long.

She pulled back, heart doing a tiny flip, and tried to act casual. “Shut up, you.”

“You look good,” he said, a little grin tugging at his lips.

“You ate that,” he added, like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

Kymoi shook her head, laughing, trying to play it cool. “Oh, I know I did,” she said.

“Akari said I should take a break from work and actually come party… so here we are.” She shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, you keep working like that, yo head gon’ get bigger,” he teased.

Kymoi popped him playfully.

“Whatever, nigga!” she shot back, laughing. “Yeah, my head gon’ get as big as you… with yo big ass!”

Tyriq held his chest like it hurt.

“Niggas get called big every day, you’ll be aight,” Ky said, smirking. “C’mon, let’s go find Kari.”

Somewhere across the room, Kari was in her own world—lip-syncing into her phone while recording herself and Zade. He leaned in and kissed her neck as she playfully rubbed his face with her fresh set of nails, grinning like she owned the night.

“Putting ya dine, putting ya onnn”

Blaring through the speakers.

Tyriq and Ky danced a little, moving to the rhythm, before finally making their way over to Akari and Zade.

Kymoi froze for a second, shocked at the sight. She blinked and asked, “Waitttt…when did this happen?”

“Seven months ago,” Kari shouted over the music, grinning.

“Oh my God, girl, you so fucking sneaky,” Kymoi laughed.

Tyriq crossed his arms, smirking. “Z… you ain’t tell me ’bout this?”

Zade shrugged, still holding a grip on Kari’s hips. “Aye, you know a nigga likes to stay private. But hey… we out now.”

Akari pursed her lips, eyes darting between the two, full of mischief. “But we seen y’all over there flirting.”

“Oh please! We were not flirting…” Ky said, rolling her eyes.

“Right,” Tyriq added, grinning. “We jus’ do what friends do.”

“Righttt…” Zade said, squinting like he wasn’t convinced.

“What? Y’all don’t believe us?” Ky said, raising an eyebrow at the couple.

“HELL NAH!” Zade & Akari said in unison.

“Man, y’all full of shit,” Tyriq laughed. “But aye, me and Ky finna grab some drinks. Y’all want some?”

“Ooouu, one lime Cutwater, please!” Akari said, grinning.

“Nah, I’m cool on alcohol,” Zade said. “This one gotta come home with me tonight anyway. Just grab me a lil’ cold drink.”

“Bet.” Tyriq said, walking away with ky.

“They gon’ be together, watch,” Kari said.

“Mhm,” Zade agreed.

After a few hours of dancing, drinking, shaking ass, conversing and smoking, the party finally wound down. Zade carried a drunk Akari out, her words slurring but her energy still through the roof.

“Kymoi! The realest bitch I know! I love you!” she yelled, barely keeping her balance.

“I love you too… Zade, please take care of her! And tell her to text me!” Kymoi called as Zade guided Akari toward his car.

“I gotchu! Ain’t nothing finna happen to her—she gon’ take her ass straight to sleep. I’ll see y’all later!” he shouted from across the street, opening the car door.

“Text me when y’all make it, nigga!” Tyriq called, climbing into his truck. Kymoi slid into the passenger seat, buckling up beside him.

“So…” Tyriq said, glancing at her but keeping his hands relaxed on the wheel. “How you feelin’ after… all that chaos? All that partying and shit, them niggas fighting was crazyyyy.” He chuckled

Kymoi laughed softly, leaning back in the seat. “Exhausted. But… alive, I guess. It was fun to get out for once, and yes, it was crazy. Them niggas was fighting like two kangaroos.”

They both laughed together.

He smirked, eyes flicking toward her. “Alive, huh? That’s good. I like that. I’m still surprised you came out, I seen a whole different side of you tonight.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, lips tugging into a small grin. “Yeah, yeah… don’t get all deep on me, Ty.”

“Whatchu mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, that teasing spark in his eyes.

Kymoi shrugged, trying to act casual, but her fingers fidgeted with the seatbelt. “You know… acting all serious and shit. You get all thoughtful outta nowhere.”

Tyriq chuckled, glancing at her sideways. “Thoughtful, huh? Don’t worry… I don’t get deep with just anybody.”

“Oh really?” she said, raising an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. “Guess I’m special then?”

He smirked, eyes catching hers in the dim glow from the dashboard. “Maybe you are.”

Kymoi laughed softly, looking out the window, trying to hide the small flutter in her chest. The quiet of the car felt different—intimate, almost like the party never existed.

She finally broke the silence. “You letting that weed talk for you, huh?”

“Nahhh,” he said, shrugging slightly.

Tyriq’s hand shifted a little on the wheel, just enough for her to notice. He didn’t move it back, either.

Kymoi’s eyes flicked to his hand, then quickly away, cheeks warming. “Mmh… you real smooth with it, huh?”

Tyriq’s smirk deepened, not taking his eyes off the road. “Smooth? Nah… just honest.”

She leaned back, pretending to be casual, but her leg brushed his lightly as she shifted. He didn’t flinch.

“Uh-huh,” she said, voice teasing. “Honest… right.”

He let a small laugh escape, low and soft. “Yeah, honest. Don’t overthink it, Ky.”

She stole a glance at him, the glow from the dashboard catching the edge of his grin. “I’m not overthinking…” she murmured, though her heart didn’t get the memo.

Tyriq’s hand shifted again, this time just a fraction closer to hers. Neither of them said anything—just a quiet, charged moment between the two, the kind that made the world outside the car feel miles away.

They finally pulled up to her apartment.

“Welp, looks like we’re here,” Kymoi said, breaking the silence. Tyriq glanced at the building, then back at her.

“I guess we are,” he replied.

Ky grabbed her phone and purse. “Thank you, TyTy. I’ll text you when I get inside.”

“Bet,” he said, just as Kymoi started crossing the street toward her building.

“KY! LOOK OUT, IT’S A CAR!” Tyriq yelled.

The sudden shout startled her.

Tyriq laughed, and Ky spun around, flipping him off. The streetlight glistened off her mocha skin, making her look effortless and untouchable.

He watched her walk away, two reasons in his mind—one for what was behind her, and the other because he genuinely wanted her to be safe.

Once Kymoi finally made it inside, Tyriq pulled off. She unlocked her door and stepped in, a small smile tugging at her lips. After the night she’d had, she had texted Tyriq like she promised—just a little reminder of the chaos they’d survived together.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a deep voice said from the shadows.

Kymoi jumped at the sound, her heart skipping. She recognized it immediately and froze.

The man finally flicked on the light.

There he was—sitting casually, hoodie on, matching pants, durag tied neatly.

“S…Sylas?…what are you doing here?” she stammered.

Sylas was Kymoi’s worst nightmare. The relationship they had was toxic and abusive in every sense of the word. He had made her life hell, from the cheating to the constant arguing, to the abuse—whether it was physical, verbal, or emotional.

She knew she had to leave him for good. She had to free herself.

Seeing him in her apartment both frightened and triggered her. It dragged every memory back to the surface, a reminder of everything he had put her through and how easily he could still invade her space.

“In the flesh and bone,” he said, smirking slightly, like he’d been waiting for this moment. “I’m tryna figure out why you was with that nigga,” he added, stepping closer.

“You thought you could just get rid of me, huh?”

Kymoi gripped her phone tightly, knuckles white.

He scanned her up and down, licking his lips. “You look… sexy. You tryna show out for him?”

His eyes lingered, slow and deliberate, taking in the way her body trembled like he could feel it from where he stood.

“You fucking him?”

“No! And if I was, why you worried? We been over since you cheated and put your hands on me!” Her voice rose, sharp and trembling with anger.

“Tsk, tsk,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “See, that’s your problem now… you too smart by the fucking mouth. That’s why I used to bat the fuck out you in it.”

The words hit her like a slap. Kymoi’s chest tightened, heat rushing through her veins. Every instinct in her screamed to hit him back, to wipe that smug look off his face. But fear rooted her in place, heavy and suffocating.

“Lips still pretty though, red always was your color.” he added, like it was a compliment.

“I missed you though, bae,” he said, easing closer to her.

Kymoi stepped back slowly, her hand tightening around her phone like it was a shield.

Her heart raced, part fear, part something else she didn’t want to admit. “Stay… back,” she said, voice firm but shaky. “I got away from you for a reason…”

Sylas smirked, tilting his head. “Aw, c’mon, Ky… don’t act like you don’t want this. I know deep down you miss me too.”

Kymoi’s stomach knotted. She knew how unpredictable Sylas could be and how quickly things could turn. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the fear he was stirring in her.

“Stop fucking with that nigga or I’ll show everybody on campus how nasty you really get. I’ll kill that nigga too, play with me.”

Her eyes widened in shock at his words. She could hear her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She already knew what he was referring to, the video they had made, something that was supposed to stay between them. The idea that he would try to use it against her made her physically sick. The threat toward Tyriq made her stomach twist even further.

“You… you bastard!” she yelled. “I–I hate you!”

Her voice cracked as tears flooded her eyes, hot and uncontrollable, her breath coming in uneven bursts.

He stepped forward, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him.

“Watch yo mouth when you talk to me,” he gritted through his teeth. “You know you still mines, I own you.”

She yanked his hands off her.

“You don’t own shit. I don’t belong to you.”

He laughed maniacally before shoving her against the wall, his hand tightening around her throat.

“Stop playing with me,” he said as her breaths came short and fast. She clawed at his hand, desperate for air. “Stop fuckin’ playing with me.”

“Ge—get off,” she rasped, lungs burning as he lifted her a few inches off the floor.

“You either listen to me or you gon fuckin stuffer,” he said, finally letting her go. She collapsed to the floor, coughing and gulping air.

“The choice is yours,” he said, heading for the door. “You look fuckable though,” he added with a dark chuckle, walking out and leaving a crying Kymoi on the floor, clutching herself.

Part 2 coming soon!

Just had a dream that inspired me to write, stay tuned chat!

Y’all rich homie quan really gone like💔

I just wanna say thank y’all again for your support on the clairvoyance series! I really appreciate you guys so much. Thank y’all for making my last month of 2025 and my first month of 2026 the best. Y’all showed love to an underdog<3! More to come ofc.

(See what I did what the song😏)

Clairvoyance (3)

THE FINALE.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Wednesday.

10:03 a.m.

BANG!

BANG!

You jolt awake at the sound of someone pounding on your door. The noise doesn’t stop. Groggy, heart already racing, you glance at the time.

“Who the fuck…?” you mumble, pushing yourself out of bed.

You grab the nearest thing you can use as a weapon, your grip tight as you creep toward the door. Every bang makes your stomach twist.

“Who is it?!” you shout.

“Baby, it’s me. It’s me,” Cameron says from the other side.

Something in his voice is off. Strained. Shaky. Like fear is sitting right beneath it.

You roll your eyes and yank the door open. “Cameron, why are you here—”

You stop mid-sentence.

“What the fuck…”

Time slows.

The bat slips from your hand and hits the floor with a dull thud.

Cameron stands there, soaked in blood. His face. His arms. His abs. Even his white trousers are stained deep red. Covering his tawny skin and his buzzed hair. You swallow hard, eyes dragging over him in disbelief, your body frozen in place.

He doesn’t say anything. Just steps past you, rushing inside.

And all you can think is: You saw this coming.

“Cam…what happ—“

“I had to,” he says, hands flying up to clutch his head, panic bleeding through his voice. “I had to get away. I—I can’t let nobody see me like this.” He starts pacing the small space, breath uneven.

By now, he’s frantic. Spiraling.

A part of you wants to say it. I told you. Wants that sharp, bitter moment of validation. But it dies in the back of your mind.

Because the bigger part of you just wants to pull him in. To steady him. To make it stop hurting.

You watched helplessly as he threw up in the sink, his body shaking with every retch.

“Baby, you gotta help me…I’m sorry for ever doubting…I’m sorry f-for calling you crazy.” he said weakly, his voice breaking through tears. “Please… you the only one who can help me through this shit...I-I need you.” He wiped at his face, hands trembling. “Can you see something else?”

“FUCK!” He yelled.

His legs gave out and he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you, sobbing.

As feel his body on you, trying to gather your thoughts , that familiar feeling starts to form.

Not a full vision. Not yet. Just that pull in your chest. That tight, sinking feeling Mr. Hallorann warned you about. Your head throbs, like pressure building behind your eyes.

Trust yourself.

Mr. Hallorann’s voice echoed in the back of your mind as you closed your eyes for a brief moment.

When you opened them, your gaze drifted down to his stitches.

They were bleeding now, the strain of everything forcing it through on its own.

“Cam…” you swallowed hard. “These things don’t just happen. I can’t just see stuff on command…it has to come to me.”

You rubbed his back gently, trying to steady him. This was a side of Cameron you’d never seen before—vulnerable, breaking down in a way that left your mind racing, trying to understand the weight he carried.

“But you gotta help me help you,” your voice dropped. “What happened?”

Cam looked up at you, his eyes red and glassy from crying. Somehow, it only made the blue in them stand out more.

“The contract…” he said quietly. “They were trying to get me to sign it, and something just came over me when they threatened my family… you. And as a man, I couldn’t let that shit happen!”

Something in his demeanor told you it went deeper than words, deeper than anything a normal person could fathom.

It was some deep shit.

You instantly felt something wash over you. You stepped back from him, the sinking feeling returning—but this time, it was deeper, stronger, almost suffocating.

Cam’s eyes softened, worry etched across his face as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly.

“Baby?” he asked, his voice low, cautious, reaching out as if to steady you.

A sharp gasp escaped you as the vision hit, stealing your breath and clutching your chest. You froze, every muscle locked in place.

There he was.

Sitting there, watching Cameron on TV, his face grotesque, eyes swollen and uneven. He took his medicine, a pill slipping from his mouth.

Isaiah laughed as Cam celebrated winning his first ring, holding up his fingers to show his rings—but his pinky was broken.

“On a serious note, it’s been a rough year,” Cam yelled over the crowd.

“I didn’t think I’d be here, knowing I had a purpose waiting for anybody who had an opinion.”

Isaiah’s expression shifted to despair as Cam thanked his teammates, his family, and the franchise.

He held a cigar to his mouth, taking another puff, blowing out smoke.

He realized Cameron thanked everyone but him—and God.

Isaiah peeped the owner of it all. The mastermind. Looking at him through the TV, almost.

“LET’S DO IT AGAIN NEXT YEAR!”

Another puff of the cigar, smoke curling from Zay’s mouth, mingling with the tears streaming down his face.

The light above him hung like a halo, as if he were a fallen angel—defeat and despair wrapped in its glow.

This was when he realized… Cameron had followed in his footsteps.

Another soul claimed for the franchise.

Zay’s nightmare.

You snap out of it, holding your chest from how intense this one was, finally catching your breath.

“Y/N?!” Cam yelled, pushing forward as he regained his strength. “What did you see?”

Before you could answer, a wave of pain and pressure hit your stomach. You squealed, clutching yourself as the same feeling from your visions surged through you, but stronger this time, spreading through your entire body. Your legs gave out and you fell to the floor, lying flat, completely overwhelmed.

Cam dropped to his knees beside you, his face pale, eyes wide with worry. “Y/N, baby! Look at me! Tell me what you’re seeing.”

But as he spoke, his voice started to fade, like it was moving farther away. Then it hit—you felt it again. A second vision.

A second vision?

You’d never had one of these before. You always thought it was one and done—you see it, you react, you tell someone. But this time, it came back, stronger, heavier.

“You got the shine.”

Your body froze. Every muscle stiffened, your heart pounding so hard you thought he could hear it. You wanted to move, to speak, to do something—but you couldn’t. Not yet.

Cam’s hands hovered near you, unsure how to help. “Y/N? Baby? Talk to me. Please… what do you see?”

You couldn’t answer. All you could feel was the pull in your chest, the pressure building behind your eyes, and you silently prayed neither of you would break before it passed.

There was cam.

In the Oakland team’s locker room, visibly emotional after the win, holding a trophy.

“Welcome back, folks. Crazy to think of the comeback Cam Cade has made after that horrific attack a few years ago,” the announcer said.

“He comes back better than ever. I mean—nobody wanted this kid,” he added, voice full of expression.

Cam sat with his hat tilted, finger pointing to the sky. Water poured over him in celebration.

“He wanted me to say on the air—this for was his mentor, Isaiah White. He spoke fondly about how much he taught him during their short time together.”

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Cam screamed, feeling the joy.

Then his expression shifted. He looked down at the ground, watching the football spin. Fear flickered across his face.

“God. Family. Football—”

You finally gasped, snapping out of the vision. Sitting up, you noticed a warm trickle running from your nose.

‘Blood?’ you thought.

Cam on the other hand was scared shitless. He had no idea what you’d just seen, but the way you’d reacted, both during and after the visions—frightened him more than anything. Seeing blood trickle from your nose made him realize just how powerful your gift was, and that it could take over completely, even when you weren’t ready for it.

You and Cam exchanged heavy, tense breaths, both trying to process what had just happened.

“Y/N…what happened? What the fuck was that?” he asked, his voice tight with panic, eyes searching yours for answers.

Slowly, you stood up, pressing a hand to your temple.

“Cam, I don’t…I don’t fucking know.”

After a while, you finished cleaning yourself.

Cameron was still in the tub, completely zoned out, his shoulders slumped and eyes distant. You glanced over at him, gently taking the towel from his hands, and sat on the stool beside him.

“Well… if you move forward with anything, Cam,” you said carefully, choosing your words, “just do it God’s way. Don’t rush it. Don’t let them—”

“Y/N,” he cut in sharply, turning to look at you. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was tight, strained. “Stop bullshittin’ with me.”

You froze.

His eyes locked onto yours, searching, almost pleading now. “What did you see?”

The room felt heavier after that. No dodging. No softening it. He needed the truth, and you both knew it.

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt, bracing yourself before you spoke.

“Well, I saw two ways it could’ve ended for you,” you said quietly, wiping his chest, your touch steady even though your hands still trembled. “If you signed that contract and went down the same path Isaiah did… you would’ve been a gone soul.”

He didn’t interrupt. He just watched you, eyes locked on yours, the bathwater rippling as his breathing deepened. You didn’t look at him, though—your focus was on getting him clean. The scent of the Method Men body wash he kept here filled your nose, sharp and familiar, and for a moment it grounded you both in the present.

“But there’s another way,” you continued.

His voice came out low. “What is it?”

“You go to the other team,” you said. “You break the curse. But you still carry the trauma from everything that already happened… from him & the others.”

Cameron leaned back against the tub, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process it all. The silence stretched, heavy and stunned.

“What does it feel like when you get those visions and shit?” he asked, genuinely curious. “How long have you had them?”

You let out a slow sigh. “Since I was a kid. And… as I’ve gotten older, the feelings just keep gettin’ stronger,” you admitted quietly. “It’s like my body locks up on me. Kinda like being temporarily paralyzed.”

You paused, trying to find the right words. “Like a deer in headlights. I can see everything comin’, feel it all at once, but I can’t move or stop it until it’s over.”

You grabbed the peroxide bottle along with the rest of the supplies, moving carefully as you knelt beside him to tend to his stitches, your hands steady even though your heart was still racing.

He hissed softly when you touched the Q-tip to his skin, the peroxide bubbling against the stitches. Even though the wound was healing, it was still sensitive—always was. Something about that spot never fully stopped hurting him. Even a simple haircut could set it off.

“I talked to Kiara’s grandfather,” you said quietly, keeping your hand steady as you worked. “He said I got the shine… or something like that.”

You glanced up at him for a second, gauging his reaction, then went back to cleaning the area, careful not to hurt him more than you already had to.

“That shit sound like some Stephen King shit,” he muttered, wincing again as you worked.

You couldn’t help it, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I knew you was gon’ say some shit like that.”

“Sound like some shit from The Shining or whatever that shit called,” he said, letting out a shaky breath.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head as you focused on his stitches. “Yeah… I know how crazy it sounds,” you replied softly, dipping the q-tip again and being extra careful. “Trust me, I ain’t ask for this either.”

He watched you work, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little as your touch stayed steady and patient.

Despite everything, the tension eased just a little. For the first time in a while, it felt like you could breathe again.

“But you know, when I was talking to Mr. Hallorann, he said some people fear what they don’t understand,” you said softly, still focused on tending to his stitches.

Cam stayed quiet for a moment, thinking back to that night. His chest tightened as he remembered letting ego, fear, and disbelief take over.

“I can be real with you, Y/N…that night, when you said all that shit? It scared the fuck outta me,” he admitted, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “I never had nobody tell me shit like that…ever.”

You nodded. “I get it. But hey… at least now we know I wasn’t lying.”

Cam raised an eyebrow. “What is the shine, though?”

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s basically my gift. Mr. Hallorann just has a fancier name for it.”

Cam chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Figures.”

You helped him clean himself off, not because he asked or needed to be told, but simply because you wanted to. Your hands moved gently, careful around his stitches, rinsing away the blood and grime piece by piece.

Cam watched you in silence, something heavy and unspoken sitting in his chest. He wasn’t used to being cared for like this, not without conditions, not without expectations. But you didn’t rush, didn’t lecture, didn’t say “I told you so.” You just stayed.

The warm water filled the space between you, quiet and steady, and for the first time since he showed up at your door, he didn’t feel like he was about to fall apart.

Cam shifted in the tub, the water sloshing softly as he reached forward and shut it off. He sat there for a second, hands braced on the edge, head hanging low like he needed a moment to pull himself together.

Then he stood.

Water streamed down his body as he stepped out, cleaned of all the blood, grabbing the towel you handed him. He wrapped it around his waist, muscles tense, jaw set. You could tell his mind was still racing, still replaying everything you’d said.

He didn’t meet your eyes at first. Just rubbed his face, then the back of his neck.

“Shit…” he muttered quietly. “That’s a lot to carry.”

He finally looked at you then, something serious settling in his expression. “You ain’t crazy. Not even a little.” A pause. “And I shoulda never made you feel like you was.”

He moved closer, stopping just in front of you, careful, like he didn’t wanna crowd you. “From now on, if you feel somethin’ off, you say it. I don’t care how it sound. I’m listenin’.”

His voice dropped. “I trust you.”

Giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“I got you.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

ONE YEAR LATER.

Cameron sat in the white office, the kind of space that smelled faintly of paper and polished wood, books stacked neatly on shelves along the walls. He raised his eyebrows, taking in the room, the familiar quiet hum of a therapist’s office settling around him. Pulling the yellow hood of his sweatshirt over his head, he leaned back in the chair, trying to steady his thoughts before the session began.

Y/N had made him agree to therapy after everything he’d seen, insisting he couldn’t carry all of it alone, even though she would help him spiritually. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this, but seeing her worried eyes, the way she’d held him together when he’d nearly lost it, made him nod that day—and here he was.

The therapist finally walked in, closing the door gently behind him. He moved with calm confidence and settled into the chair across from Cameron.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Torrance,” he said, offering his hand. Cameron hesitated for a moment, then shook it, feeling the firm but reassuring grip.

Dr. Torrance smiled warmly. “I understand this might be a little uncomfortable at first. That’s normal. We can take things at your pace.”

Cameron nodded slowly, tugging at the hem of his hoodie, unsure how much he was willing to open up. Even though Y/N had assured him he wasn’t alone spiritually, sitting here, talking to someone like this, felt different.

Cameron shifted in his seat, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie. “I… I don’t really do this therapy shit,” he admitted, voice low.

Dr. Torrance nodded slowly, keeping his tone gentle. “That’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. We’re just here to talk. No judgment, no pressure.”

Cameron leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “It’s… hard to talk about, man. I keep seeing shit… stuff that’s happened, stuff that could’ve happened. I can’t get it outta my head.”

Dr. Torrance nodded, letting him speak without interruption. “Take your time. Start wherever you feel comfortable.”

Cam didn’t know where to start, between what he’s been through plus his father’s death.

Longgg session ahead.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You and Kiara pulled up to Kiara’s grandparents’ house.

Kiara unlocked the door and held it open as they stepped inside, closing it behind them.

“Hey, Grandma!” Kiara said, grinning.

“Hey, Mrs. Hallorann,” you said, giving her a quick, warm hug.

“Hey girls, how are you Y/N?” Mrs. Hallorann asked you.

“I’m doing pretty well. Is Mr. Hallorann home?”

By now, Mr. Hallorann was practically like a father figure to you. You updated him on how much your shine had improved over time, letting him know how much you appreciated his guidance in helping you navigate the gift you carried.

“Upstairs, probably doing God knows what in that room… watching Twilight or something, I don’t know, honey,” she said with a shrug before calling him downstairs.

He came down grumbling and nagging at first, but then his eyes landed on the two girls standing there. Both of them waved, and his expression softened.

“Hello ladies,” he greeted the girls with hugs.

Mrs. Hallorann excused herself, heading back to the kitchen, and the warm aroma of whatever she was cooking filled the room.

Mr. Hallorann leaned back slightly, arms crossed, eyes studying you like he always did when he sensed your energy shifting.

“Mm-hmm… I see how it’s gotten stronger” he said, his voice carrying that quiet, knowing authority, like he could read her straight through without you saying a word.

“Well… I can feel it too,” you said quietly. “I had two visions. Back to back. Last time.”

For the first time, even Mr. Hallorann looked caught off guard.

He leaned back slightly, brows knitting as he studied you closer, like he was seeing you in a new light.

Across the room, Kiara sat up straighter, her phone forgotten in her hand.

“Two?” she repeated, disbelief slipping into her voice.

Mr. Hallorann let out a slow breath through his nose. “Mm. That ain’t common,” he said after a beat. “Not at all.”

His gaze returned to you, sharp but not unkind.

“That means your shine ain’t just growin’,” he said quietly. “It’s widenin’.”

He paused.

“And at that camp… something latched onto Cameron.”

You looked up at him.

When he said that, something clicked in the back of your mind. That night, you and Cameron had argued, and now you remembered the look in his eyes—something had shifted. Pieces were starting to fall into place. You realized… Cameron had finally had a breakthrough.

“Now don’t panic,” he said calmly, though his voice had dropped. “But when a shine starts stretchin’ like that—seein’ more than one path, more than one outcome at the same time—that means somethin’ crossed over into his space.”

Your stomach tightened.

“Crossed over?” you asked.

He nodded once. “Fear opens doors. Trauma too. And that boy’s been livin’ with plenty of both.”

His eyes flicked to Kiara, then back to you. “And some things ain’t spirits in the ghost-story sense. Sometimes it’s weight. Legacy. Hunger. Power passed down and dressed up as opportunity.”

Kiara swallowed. “So you’re sayin’ it’s not just in his head?”

Mr. Hallorann let out a quiet huff. “Oh, it’s in his head alright. But it didn’t start there.”

You shifted in your seat as that familiar pressure stirred in your chest—soft, insistent, like a warning bell being tapped once.

“I saw him win,” you said slowly. “But it didn’t feel like a win.”

Mr. Hallorann’s expression softened, just a fraction. “That’s ‘cause some victories cost more than folks expect,” he said. “And your shine showed you the receipt.”

The room fell silent.

He leaned forward then, elbows resting on his knees.

“Here’s what matters,” he said. “That thing attached to him? It ain’t permanent. Not yet. But it’s testin’ him. Seein’ how much of himself he’s willin’ to trade.”

You looked down at your hands. “And me?”

A small, knowing smile tugged at his mouth. “You’re the reason it ain’t won already.”

Kiara blinked. “Damn.”

Mr. Hallorann nodded once. “Mm. Damn is right.”

He lifted a finger, pointing gently toward your chest. “Your shine didn’t just warn you. It anchored you to him. That’s protection. But you gotta stay grounded, Y/N. Two visions back to back means your body’s learnin’ to hold more. You push it too fast, though…”

He let the sentence hang.

You lifted your head. “What do I do?”

He met your gaze. “You listen. You rest. And when that feelin’ comes back, you don’t fight it. You let it show you what it needs to show you, then you let it go.”

You sat up, intrigued by what Mr. Hallorann was saying, you looked over at Kiara

“And you make sure Cameron don’t walk that path alone.”

The pressure in your chest eased,just a little.

Not gone. But manageable.

Somewhere deep down, you knew this wasn’t the end of it.

It was the beginning.

“Here,” Mr. Hallorann said, reaching beside his chair and pulling out a small silver lockbox.

He held it out to you.

“This is for Cameron.”

You took it carefully, the cool metal settling into your palms. “What’s it for?”

“To lock away the negative shines,” he explained. “The things that don’t fade on their own. The fear. The images. Ghosts, trauma, memories that get too loud. It keeps ’em contained. Keeps him safe.”

You nodded slowly, but then the weight of it really sank in.

Your brows furrowed. “Is it… possible that Cam might have it too?”

Mr. Hallorann didn’t answer right away. He studied you for a moment, then gave a small nod.

“It’s a possibility,” he said. “Some folks don’t see with pictures. Some see with pain. Some don’t even know they got it until somethin’ wakes it up.”

Your grip tightened around the box.

“And if he does?” you asked.

Mr. Hallorann met your eyes. “Then he gonna need guidance. Same as you did. Difference is… he already been touched by it.”

The room felt quieter after that.

Kiara shifted beside you. “So what do we do?”

Mr. Hallorann’s gaze stayed on you.

“You already doin’ it,” he said softly. “You pay attention. You don’t let him carry it alone.”

You looked down at the lockbox again.

“Thanks, Mr. Hallorann,” you said, standing up and holding the box tight.

You headed for the door with Kiara.

“Y/N,” Hallorann called.

“Yes?”

“Tell Cameron I said congrats… on keeping what’s his.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Will do.”

⊹₊⟡⋆

Yeah hoe, this the finale.

Clairvoyance(2)

Cameron Cade X Psychic! Black! Girlfriend! Reader.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Today was a light day at work, and it went more smoothly than yesterday. Still, Y/N felt Cameron’s absence lingering in the air. They hadn’t spoken in three days.

She masked the sadness with fake smiles as she greeted customers, going through the motions like everything was fine. But deep down, worry sat heavy in her chest and stomach. Beneath it all, she missed him. She was worried about the aftermath of what she’d seen. Whatever that vision was leading to hadn’t happened yet, and that scared her more than anything.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Cameron sank into his ice bath, thoughts of that night with Y/N spinning in his mind. He missed her, and guilt crawled in, twisting like a knot. He felt like he’d been an asshole. She’d told him about the vision, and ever since, everything felt off—Isaiah’s energy, the events he’d been to… everything. He was paranoid.

No phone. No messages. Just her. Persistent, insistent, impossible to shake.

“I gotta talk to her,” he muttered, determination setting in.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Y/N finally got the chance to take a break, clocking out and stepping away from the floor. Working at an outlet meant plenty of food options, but she ended up choosing a small Chinese restaurant.

She ordered orange chicken with two sides: lo mein and shrimp fried rice.

She thanked the server and took a seat at one of the tables, setting the black container in front of her and letting the steam rise as she cracked it open.

Then she saw Kiara, sliding in like she owned the place. Best friends since diapers, Kiara knew about Y/N’s gift—and never treated her differently.

Kiara sat down across from her, wearing her work uniform, setting her bag aside as she looked at Y/N.

“Hey, bitch!” Kiara greeted, plopping into the seat across from her and snagging a piece of Y/N’s chicken.

“Girl—” Y/N scrunched her face in mock irritation, then laughed, shaking her head as Kiara flashed a grin. “Hey, ho.” She picked up her fork, speared a piece of chicken, and took a bite, letting herself sink into the familiar comfort of the moment.

“Girl, I’m so glad I finally took a break from that stankin’ ass job. One of them old bitches got in my way, and I almost cussed her out—” Kiara stopped mid-rant.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Y/N. Something felt off—her friend’s usual spark seemed dimmer, and the way she ate was distracted, almost absent-minded.

“Babe, you okay?” Kiara asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry as she leaned slightly forward, watching Y/N closely.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Y/N said quietly.

Kiara pursed her lips and tilted her head, silently saying, “Be real with me,” knowing something was off with her best friend.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Is it Cameron?”

Y/N looked up the moment she said his name.

‘Damn…how did she know?’ She thought

“Yeah…” she admitted quietly. “It’s about him.”

Kiara shook her head immediately. “What did he do? ’Cause you know I’ll beat his ass—”

“I told him, girl,” Y/N cut in softly.

Kiara’s mind immediately jumped to pregnancy.

“Wait, you’re—”

“Hell no!” Y/N exclaimed, cutting her off. “I meant I told him about the visions.”

Kiara let out a relieved sigh. “Whew, bitch, I thought summer was over,” she said, half-joking. “But… what did you see?”

“Him and Zay… in a red room, looking like they were about to rip each other’s heads off,” Y/N whispered, leaning in slightly so no one else could overhear. “He didn’t believe me though.”

Kiara’s eyes widened as she processed the image. Then her expression shifted the moment Y/N mentioned he didn’t believe her.

“He didn’t believe you?” she repeated, disbelief in her voice. “If somebody is telling me what’s gonna happen in my future—”

“Shhh… besides, I think I might’ve freaked him out,” Y/N interrupted, lowering her voice.

“He told me I’m crazy and that I need medicine and all that shit,” Y/N frowned, grabbing her drink and taking a sip.

“Oh hell no…” Kiara exclaimed. “He’s losing his damn mind since that head injury. What the hell is wrong with him? His ass is the one that needs medicine!”

Y/N chuckled at how expressive her friend was. Her energy shifted to confusion and frustration.

“This shit was never explained to me either. I don’t know why it happens to me,” she sighed. “And it’s not like I can ignore it either. Every time I see something, Ki, it starts in my chest… and I see it. But people don’t believe me.”

She shrugged in defeat, the weight pressing down on her.

Kiara studied her, and a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. “We can go to my grandparents’ house. That way you can talk to my Pawpaw. You know he can explain—he’s got a gift too.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, a spark of hope flickering across her face. “You really think he can help me understand this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitated, twisting her hands in her lap. “I mean… what if he thinks I’m crazy too?”

But beneath the doubt, there was a small, undeniable part of her that longed for answers.

Kiara gave her the classic “girl” look: one eyebrow raised and lips pressed together just so. “Babe, don’t even trip. He ain’t gonna think you’re crazy. My Pawpaw’s seen all kinds of shit before—he’ll help you make sense of it. I got you. You ain’t alone in this; we gon’ make sense of it together.” She reached out to hold Y/N’s hand.

Y/N gave Kiara a soft smile. “I love you, ho.”

“I love you too, bitch,” Kiara replied, grinning.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

As Cameron sank into his ice bath, he couldn’t stop thinking about that night with Y/N. He missed her, and a gnawing guilt crept in. He felt like he’d been an asshole. She’d told him about the vision, and ever since, things just felt off. Zay’s energy, the events he’d been to—everything. It made Cameron more paranoid. He felt regretful for even yelling at her.

He didn’t even have his phone to reach her. Just the simple, persistent thoughts of her filled his mind.

“I gotta talk to her,” he muttered, determination setting in.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When Y/N’s shift finally ended, she hopped into Kiara’s black Infiniti QX50. Almost instantly, Kiara’s phone connected to the car’s system, Ciara and Ludacris’ “Oh” began to play, filling the car with its familiar beat.

The girls started singing along with Ciara, letting loose. As a few songs passed, their impromptu car concert was in full effect. For Y/N, it brought a small sense of relief, a brief escape from the weight on her mind.

“Get It Shawty” by Lloyd came on.

“WAIT—this my song,” Y/N said, reaching for the volume, already moving in her seat.

Kiara rolled her eyes but turned it up anyway. “Girl, you say that about every song.”

“Because they all be my shit!” Y/N shot back, singing loud and off-key.

Kiara laughed, joining in, missing half the lyrics, but confidently yelling the chorus anyway. The two bounced in their seats, ad-libbing nonsense, arguing over who knew the words better, laughing like they always had.

It felt like being kids again, windows down, music too loud, worries pushed to the back for just a moment.

As they parked, the final song, “Lemonade” by Gucci Mane, played. Y/N raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t help it—that was one of Cam’s favorite songs.

The girls grabbed their bags and walked up to Kiara’s grandparents’ house. Y/N kept her pace a little slower, lost in thought, glancing around the familiar yard while Kiara chatted about nothing in particular.

Even as she laughed at something Kiara said, her mind couldn’t stop drifting back to Cameron and the vision she’d seen. She just hoped she wasn’t too late to prevent whatever was coming.

Kiara unlocked the door with the key her grandparents had given her.

“I’m home, y’all!”

She headed straight to the kitchen, where her grandma greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. Y/N followed, wrapping her arms around her grandma in a warm hug.

“Do you know where Pawpaw is? Y/N needs to talk to him about something.”

“Upstairs, doing God knows what,” Kiara’s grandmother replied, stirring whatever’s in the pot.

With that, Kiara and Y/N headed upstairs, anticipation and nervousness building with every step.

Finally, they reached the room. Kiara knocked on the door of the guest room.

“Come in,” a deep voice called from behind it.

Opening it, Kiara and Y/N walked in.

“Hey, Pawpaw,” Kiara said, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek. He sat in his chair watching TV, wearing a blue robe, still in his pajamas.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey, Mr. Hallorann, how you doing?” Y/N asked.

Mr. Hallorann shifted in his seat, turning his attention to her. Somehow, he seemed to feel her energy before they’d even said a word.

“Hey Y/N. I’m well, how are you?” he asked.

“I’m okay—”

‘Boy trouble, huh?’

a voice whispered in her head, familiar and warm, sounding a lot like Mr. Hallorann’s.

Y/N blinked.

“Bitch, did I just… hear him?”

she thought, eyes widening slightly. She glanced at Kiara, then let out a small, nervous chuckle.

“Uh… Mr. Hallorann… did you just say something?” she asked cautiously, glancing at him.

He raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Sometimes a gift like yours don’t always need words. You hear things, feel things, before you see ’em. That’s all.”

“So it’s deeper than me, just seeing things?” Y/N asked quietly.

Mr. Hallorann nodded, folding his hands together. “Much deeper, darlin’.”

“Seeing things before they happen, that’s your strongest gift,” he explained gently. “Sometimes it comes in dreams. Sometimes it starts as a feeling, right here.” He tapped his chest. “And sometimes it hits you all at once, right in the moment.”

He leaned back slightly. “When those visions come, all the sensations blend together—the fear, the warning, the pull in your chest. That’s how you know it ain’t just your imagination. That’s the gift speaking to you.”

Y/N swallowed, the weight of the explanation settling in. “So… that’s why it scares me sometimes,”

Mr. Hallorann nodded knowingly. “Exactly. Most folks get frightened when they see or feel things others can’t. Your mind’s warning you before anything happens. That’s powerful, but it can be heavy too. Fear ain’t the enemy; it’s your signal to pay attention.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes locking on hers. “Now, when it comes to people you care about, like this Cameron you mentioned, your gift is a way to protect him and protect yourself. But you gotta trust it, and you gotta act on it when the feeling hits you. Don’t ignore it just ’cause it makes you nervous or others don’t believe.”

His tone softened, almost a whisper. “What you saw, whatever danger is coming, it ain’t random. You saw it for a reason. Now it’s up to you to use what you got and keep the people you love safe.”

“Why didn’t Cameron believe me?” she asked cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mr. Hallorann gave a small, understanding sigh.

“Sometimes folks can’t handle what they can’t see or understand. It ain’t about you, it’s about him. Fear, pride, disbelief—it can make a person shut down, even when the truth is right in front of ’em. Doesn’t mean he ain’t listening or that he won’t come around. You just gotta give him time, and be ready when he does. That’s when he’ll finally wake up.”

Y/N looked at him, taking in everything he said.

“You got the shine,” he said softly, tapping his head. “It’s all in here.” He lifted his other hand and tapped his chest. “…and here.”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she absorbed his words.

“I’ve never seen a shine as strong as yours,” he added, his voice carrying both awe and reassurance.

“Trust yourself.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

After Kiara dropped Y/N off at home, she stepped inside, letting out a tired sigh. She made her way to her bedroom, then into the connected bathroom. She ran a warm bath and lit a vanilla-scented candle, the soft glow filling the space. Twisting her freshly styled hair into a loose bun from her straight middle part, she secured it with a claw clip, then stripped off her clothes and eased into the tub, letting the warm water wrap around her.

After taking her time with her self-care, she climbed into bed, pulling the cozy covers over herself and sinking into the warmth, letting the day’s weight slowly fade.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but after a few minutes, her mind refused to quiet.

“I AM HIM! I AM FOOTBALL!”

flooded her thoughts, making her twist in bed, hoping it would stop.

“You got the shine,”

She turned her head sharply.

“Argh!” Cameron screamed as Isaiah bent his arm back, breaking it until it popped. Laugh menacingly, Y/N froze in terror. Isaiah rose, striding toward her.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Cameron yelled from the floor.

Isaiah inched closer and closer.

“Had to show your man I’m him. Now it’s time to show you.” He cocked his arm back, ready to strike.

Y/N bolted upright in bed, heart beating quickly, breathing heavily.

She looked at the time on her phone.

3:33

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Part 3, coming soon!

Clairvoyance.

Cameron Cade X Psychic! Black! Girlfriend! Reader

“If you can gaze into the future, you might think life would be a breeze.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Laughter echoed through the house as the couple entered the house. Cameron and Y/N had just returned from their viewing of sinners, finally getting the chance to time together. With Cameron off from practice and Y/N enjoying a day away from work, they figured they’d make the most of their free time about each other.

“That was a 10/10 movie.” She said, “the only thing that pissed me off was Annie dying & them not closing them damn doors.”

Cameron let out a small laugh, “I couldn’t agree more, Annie was the GOAT.” He sipped his cherry slushy, then continued. “I think slim my favorite character tho. Nigga was too funny.”

Y/N chuckled as she made her way to the refrigerator. Cameron settled onto the couch.

“Aye baby…” Cam called, loud enough to catch her attention.

“Yeah?”

“I enjoyed my time with you. It feels good to have a little break from practice and to spend time with you.” He spoke honestly.

She was listening…until she wasn’t. Cameron’s voice faded the moment he mentioned practice, drowned out by a sudden, familiar feeling. The same feeling that crept in whenever he went to practice and got someone hurt. The same feeling she had since she was a kid. It always led to one thing.

A rush slammed into her. Goosebumps rippled across her skin, the hair at the back of her neck standing up on end as she froze in place. Her eyes widen as the vision hit her all at once.

Red.

The world around her bled into a crimson haze. In the center of it stood Cameron Cade and His mentor…Isaiah White. Positioned across from each other in a red-lit room, tension thick between them.

“It’s very simple, one man wants to walk out of that tunnel…” Isaiah said, pointing to the curtain behind him, never taking his eyes off Cameron. “One man wants to walk out that tunnel…”

He paused, his stare darkening.

“and the other man wants to stop him.”

Their gazes clashed.

Y/N knew: this was more than a fight. This was destiny taking shape.

“Now if you wanna be the fucking GOAT,” Isaiah continued, voice sharp with challenge, “you gonna have to take it from me.” He spat.

“You didn’t earn this shit.” Cam said calmly, not a lick of fear in his tone.

While Isaiah laughed, Cameron continued to hold the intense gaze on him.

“You cheated. I worked for this shit.” Cam said, steady and fearless.

Their voices overlapped in warped echoes, stretching and bouncing as if they were speaking through a long tunnel.

Isaiah’s ego cracked, pride bruised. His energy shifted, turning heavier, more serious…more dangerous.

“You ain’t shit. You ain’t shit.” Isaiah spat coldly. “Its time for me to show you exactly who the fuck i am.”

Cameron stood unfazed, though tension coiled beneath his calm expression.

“Football. FAMILY! GOD!” Isaiah roared. She felt the power behind the yell in her bones.

Cameron smirked—slow, devious.

“I AM HIM!” Isaiah yelled. “I AM FOOTBALL!”

“Baby??” Cameron’s voice cut through the haze, waving his hand in her face, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.

Y/N snapped out of the vision with a sharp inhale. She stumble back a bit, closing her eyes for a Brief moment as her heart raced.

“Oh my God…” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

“Baby…you good?” He asked, taking a step closer, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N at him and nodded, trying to shake back.

“Y-Yeah…I’m fine.” She said, though her voice wavered.

Cameron knew that wasn’t true. He could tell it was deeper than that—especially from the expression on her face. Cameron could read Y/N like a book.

“You sure? Cause it look like you seen a ghost,” He asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

She sighed and looked the other way. Only her closest friends and her mom knew about her ability to see things before they happened. She had gained the courage to tell Cameron, she didn’t want to freak him out.

She finally turned to him.

“Baby…I have something to tell you.”

Cameron’s attention snapped to her instantly. “You can tell me anything, mama.”

“Please don’t think I’m crazy but…I-…I can see things.” She admitted, her voice trembling slightly as she hesitated. He didn’t take his eyes off her, his brow furrowed slightly as her tried to understand. His hand hovered near hers, unsure whether to reach out, but wanting to give her space to speak. Every ounce of him wanted to protect her, to make this a safe space for her.

“I mean we all got eyes, bae.” He joked, a small grin tugging at his lips. “But seriously…Whatchu mean though?”

“I can see things before they happen, Cam. Always have, ever since I was a little girl.” She said softly. “I don’t think you should go to practice tomorrow either.”

“Why?”

She sighed again, hesitant to answer the question. She knew she had to tell him. Taking a small sip of water, she swallowed before speaking, steadying herself.

“Baby, I seen Isaiah all acting erratic towards you, like he was saying you ain’t shit…” she said, her brow furrowing. “Something about a tunnel too…”

Cameron was freaked out but he didn’t show it. Part of him didn’t want to believe her. Instead, he started to laughing, loudly. Y/N stared at him, confusion.

“What’s funny?” She asked.

“You,” He said, finally stopping, though she could still hear the trace of laughter in his voice.

“You need to stop bullshittin’,” he added, shaking his head, trying to hide unnerved he actually felt.

“Isaiah is family. You know he wouldn’t do that shit to me. Just ‘cause YOU don’t like him, doesn’t mean you gotta keep me away from him,” he said defensively, his eyes locked onto to her as his jaw clenched.

His eyes that once had light in them, had darken.

Cameron felt a wave of frustration. He figured she was just being clingy, trying to keep him from practice because of those “feelings” she always claimed to have or simply because she didn’t like Isaiah. In his mind, it made no sense—he’d never seen anything come for them before, so why start now?

Y/N furrowed at his sudden change.

“W-What?…”

She stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes, disbelief written all over her face. The sudden shift in Cameron’s energy caught her completely off guard.

“Why you tryna keep me from practice, huh? Or is it the ‘visions’ telling you do so?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, cold and mocking. “It’s like you never want me to go anywhere because. Stop being so clingy all the time. You don’t have these “feelings” or whatever the fuck they are until it’s time for me to go.”

Y/N froze, staring at him in pure shock and disbelief, her hands gripped the counter like she needed something to steady herself. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. Her heart damn near started to beat out her chest. Frustration and fear spread across her face.

“What- I’m not tryna hold you back—“ she started, her voice trembling, “I’m not making this shit up, cam!” She took a step forward, pressing her palm against the counter, leaning towards him. “I saw it! I’m tryna protect yo’ ass because I don’t want nothing bad to HAPPEN to you! Especially fucking around with Zay.” She raised her voice, her gaze bore into his, desperate for him to understand, but also afraid of how he’d react next.

“God! Cameron why can’t you believe me?!?!” She yelled, gritting her teeth as she stormed toward the living room, shoulders tense and fists clenched slightly.

Cameron eyes soften a bit before going into the living room with her.

“Because you acting fucking crazy!” He yelled.

But deep down, he knew she wasn’t acting crazy. It was just his fear eating at him. So many thoughts ran through his head—the details she shared were too specific, especially about the room.

Damn… what if she’s right? he thought.

He wasn’t about to let her know that, though.

Y/N laughed bitterly, incredulous at how ridiculous he was acting. All she did was tell him what she saw to protect him, or maybe even save him… and this is how he fucking responds.

“What? Is it because I’m making more than you?” he shot back, and that hit a nerve. Now he was downplaying her. “Those lil Sephora checks ain’t cutting it no more! I’m the one keeping the lights on, busting my ass at practice for us every day. So you can be straight! I give you money, I give you every fucking thing.” His voice boomed through the house. “And you’re tryna hold me back from doing that? All because you don’t like Isaiah? Coming at me with this visions bullshit…Visions my ass…You need some fucking medicine—”

SLAP!

He was cut off by the sharp smack Y/N delivered, tears of hurt and anger blazing in her eyes. He slowly turned his head towards her.

“You done lost yo’ rapid-ass mind talking to me like that!” she exclaimed. “I do appreciate you providing for me, but fucking downplay me? I be busting my ass and trying too, Cam! And what the fuck does that have to do with me telling you something for your own good?!? Something that I fucking saw—”

“You know what… this is why I didn’t wanna tell yo’ ass. Get out.”

She glared at him, eyes blazing. “You still here?” she asked rhetorically.

His jaw clenched. Without a word, he pulled his hoodie on, stared at her one last time, and headed for the door.

She sighed, plopping down on the couch and rubbing her temples as Cameron walked out the door. Deep down, she was still worried about him, even though her frustration lingered.

“Why won’t he listen to me?”

Part 2?