The Publicist

Breaking Part 1

**** Ignore Jordin. Just wanted to give you an idea of what the room looks like****

JAZMINE P.O.V.

All last night during and after the show, August kept texting my phone apologizing. Trying to explain himself.

Never once did he admit that he wanted to be with me though. Or that he wanted a committed relationship. He just kept saying, he wanted his "friend" back. 😴

And at this point, it didn't matter. When I told him I was done. I meant that.

The whole flight to Finland, I sat with Devin and that made August sick to his stomach. Every time I would get up to go to the washroom he would mean mug me. And I would walk past his behind, like he was an invisible ghost I couldn't see.

We went from our flight to baggage claim, and this time it was him giving me the awkward stares.

Devin had left with Ush's crew in their van and I was still waiting on my bag. When it came around, Aug came over and took it off the thing. I took it from him.

I didn't ask for his help.

"You not gon say thank you?" He asked me.

He really thought I was one of those girls who cracked easily, over a few jokes or because you speak to me. 😂Uh...no. Wrong one.

"You being real petty Jazz." He turned looking toward the door, so it wouldn't seem like we were really talking.

No one but DJ knew about our drama. And I wasn't trying to spread it around, by bringing attention to us and cussing him out in public. I knew better than that. I after all was a Publicist.

I walked away from him toward DJ who had just came out the washroom.

Thank God.

Aug looked real salty and walked back over to D and Big T. Slyly looking at me, with a look of hurt on his face.

"Get your luggage so we can wait outside for the van." I told DJ.

"Don't order me around." DJ muffed my forehead. Then went to get his luggage.

He got his luggage and we went outside to wait on the van to arrive.

"He just will not quit." I said irritated.

"Niggas be persistent Jazz. Especially when they see you not playing with they black asses."

And here come this nigga again outside. Like LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Oh gawd." DJ touched his forehead. "This is the time I wish I had Harry Potter's Invisible Cloak so we could just poof outta here... cause these niggas. Ha-Ha!" He let out an obnoxious laugh.

Aug walked over to us.

"Jazz I said I'm sorry. I told you that a million times."

Me and DJ just looked around like he wasn't there trying to find who was talking to us and chuckled to ourselves. Petty I know, but I didn't care.

He sighed and walked back inside.

"We are so mean." Me and DJ laughed.

"I've been hanging around you too much."

Aug's car pulled up first.

Big T, D and him came out. He kept looking at me as he gave his luggage to T to put in the trunk.

"You wanna ride with us?" He asked me.

"No I'll wait for the van."

He shook his head and got in the car, disappearing behind the dark windows.

I knew he was probably still staring. Let em' stare. I flipped my hair like I had excessively long weave. DJ did the same, doing duck lips. We laughed and the car drove off.

Our van pulled up. Tha Squad, Des and Can came out, we got in and drove to the hotel.

DJ helped me carry some of my bags to my room. When I opened the door. My hotel room was filled with orange flowers (which happened to be my favorite color - he must've asked Lauren) from top to the bottom. And I'm sorry balloons and cards.

"Why does he have it looking like a damn green house in here?" DJ asked kicking flowers around trying ton find an empty space to put my luggage.

"You cannot be serious?" I picked up one of the cards, which actually had his signature and I'm sorry written on it in his actual handwriting.

"When did he find the time to do even do this shit and on top of it have it delivered from Sweden to here?"

" I don't know. But this is crazy."

"You better watch him. He might be one of the niggas that got a shrine with your picture on it. That nigga is from New Orleans, don't comb your hair around him. He'll take one of them strands and pin it to a damn Voodoo doll."

I chuckled, still in utter disbelief that he did this. I was not amazed or impress, I was just surprised. I think anybody would be.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket. It was a text from Aug.

Aug: Jazz I promise from the bottom of my heart I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know how else to show you besides the flowers and telling you. If it is another way please tell me so I can make it right.

I gave my phone to DJ to read. He threw one of the bouquets off the bed and onto the floor. And sat down.

"And?"

"And? Maybe we're being too hard."

"Bitch don't. Don't. See this is how niggas get y'all. They know that sensitive shit pulls at y'all little heart strings so they use it to they advantage, then once you take them niggas back, they go right back to the bullshit. What he gon do? Beat your ass then buy you a million flowers to make up for it?"

I sighed, remembering yesterday. But I wondered if he was sincere.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! DJ!" I plopped back on the bed, landing on some flowers. He wouldn't just do this if he didn't mean it would he?"

"Don't let this nigga con you. Be strong. Do not give in."

My phone buzzed again.

Aug: Can you at least talk to me? At least let me know we cool. Even if you want to be with Devin. I don't care. I just want to know we straight.

"DJ I'm breaking." I whined.

"Bitch you bettah be like humpty dumpty and get all the kings horsemen and all the kingsmen to put yo ass back together again."

My buzzed again.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I screamed and kicked.

"What is your problem?"

I handed him my phone.

Aug had sent a picture of him pouting and said "I want my friend back. pwetty please with a cherry on top?" 😢

"I gotta talk to him." I got up.

"No you're not. Might of fact, that cemetary over there, we finna take all these flowers and put then on people's graves." DJ started gathering bouquets.

"DJ."

"Bring yo ass!" He snapped.

I sighed and grabbed flowers and we were off to the cemetery across the street.