(18+) Come & Talk to Me: A DeVanté Swing Fanfiction

Chapter 69: Come & Relapse?

Please excuse ANY grammatical errors.

April 20, 1996

~DeVanté's P.O.V~

"You dumb fuck!" I told Dalvin.

"What!? I ain't know!" He responded.

"How the hell you ain't know when I went to every damn rehearsal!? Now I look even more different than ususal you niggas!" I told him. "I even asked to ass did you get OUR gear together and your answer was yes."

"Nigga, you went to the other rehearsals and didn't show up to the actual show like you were supposed to." K-Ci told me.

"Right, ain't no use in wasting money on no possible." Dalvin told me.

"Fuck outta here. I showed up those times because I wanted to make sure Jodeci did good. I was fucked up then and could never make up my mind to certify much. Y'all KNEW damn well I said I was coming. This shit is so meaningful, we goin' on a hiatus and I fans should see ALL of us. I want us to look like a group. Then it's the day of that I find out. That's fucked up and y'all know it!" I pointed out.

"Well, ain't no use in complainin'. We got to get ready." JoJo shrugged at me.

"Get ready? Nigga, I guess I'm already dressed!" I told him.

"He meant us nucka." Dalvin said patting my back laughing.

I shrugged him off my shoulder and walked to my dressing room. "Can't stand these niggas sometimes." I shook my head closing the door.

Now I would usually pop a few pills at a time like this but I don't have any in sight nor do I want to. Shit, I would pop pills just because at one point. Yes, I have an urge to do so but I don't want to. Give me a fucking break, I've only been sober for seven months rounded. I am more than pills and I don't need it.

It doesn't help that they have a bunch of bottles of alcohol in my dressing room when I had a slight drinking problem too. The rest of the fellas do too and I'm pretty sure they got the same things in theirs. The difference between me and them is that I want to stop or at least slow down and they don't. There are also headache relief medication sitting there staring at me.

Headaches are common when you get off the stage because of the loud music and screaming fans. They aren't OTC medication but still... I stared at the bottles of liquor and the pill bottles for a long time contemplating. My legs began to bounce involuntarily as I crossed my arms. I stood up shaking my head and grabbed the pill bottle and threw that shit across the room. Then I walked out of my dressing room pissed off.

"Not goin' back to that shit. I'm not going to relapse for shit!" I mumbled to myself. I'm not even a year sober yet and I don't need it. "Aye, who in charge of this shit?" I asked walking up to Reese.

"Sir, what's the problem?" A womanly voice asked tapping on my shoulder.

I turned around, exhaling loudly. "Who's in charge of setting up dressing rooms?" I asked calmly.

"I am. What's the problem?" She asked with a tight smile.

"Look, don't you think you should ask people what they want in their dressing room?" I asked her skeptically and she stayed quiet. "I don't want liquor in my dressing room."