Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Eleven

    The paparazzi. By far one of the worst aspects of fame. The vast majority of them were loud and obnoxious, and would do anything to get the attention of a celebrity they wanted to capture pictures of. The videos most non-celebrities have seen are only a tip of the iceberg. From those videos, it is easy to get the impression that paparazzi only showed up to popular nightclubs or popular shopping districts, but they were truly everywhere. Many of them were tipped off that a celebrity would be arriving to a certain destination, and they didn't hold back. Even if a celebrity was going to watch their son play peewee baseball, they would show up. Mia thought it should be illegal for photographs of children to be published without consent, and paparazzi should not be allowed to any school events involving children. She wondered how it was legal for them to interfere with a celebrity's life that intensely.

    Drake also seemed to despise that aspect of his notoriety. He usually ignored paparazzi altogether. When they shouted questions at him, he rarely responded. If a fan approached him, he was as sweet as pie, but he was as cold as ice to paparazzi. At first, she didn't quite understand why. It only took a few nights out with him to understand.

    Paparazzi were reckless. If they spotted a celebrity driving in a car, they would go to great lengths, sometimes at the risk of putting lives into jeopardy, just to get a photo. A photo of a celebrity sitting in a car. Doing absolutely nothing remarkable. Just sitting there. It was difficult to maintain any magnitude of respect for a person who was willing to risk lives just to capture such a trivial moment in time.

    When the SUV pulled up to the restaurant, the paparazzi were waiting. Hovering around the place like vultures with cameras strapped to their necks, talking to each other. Once they saw the SUV, their interest was piqued.

    And now it's time for you to wear your smile, she thought, tossing her hair behind her shoulder.

    Instead of waiting for the driver to open the door for him, Drake opened the back door and climbed out. When he turned to help her out, he saw the smile on her face. His brows furrowed in confusion.

    She accepted his hand and stood out of the car, nearly knocked off of her feet by the clamoring and shouting of the rabid photographers. "Kiss me," she told him.

    His frown deepened. "What?"

    "Kiss me," she repeated.

    He lifted a hand to her face, lowered his head, and kissed her.

    A kiss from him seemed to stop time. It was as if the whole world stopped, paused until the kiss ended. The sounds of the crazed photographers faded into a low hum and the entire world seemed to just fall away. She tried to remind herself that this was just for show, but his kisses were so easy to get lost in. Her arms went around his waist and she pulled him closer to her, deepening the kiss more than she intended to. When she pulled back, he was looking at her with his thick eyebrows raised. Dazed and confused, and the look he was giving her said that he was so in love with her. In love with her and not knowing if they were truly okay or not, but hoping that they were. Swallowing the urge to kiss him again, she removed her hands from his waist.

    He extended his arm out to her, always the gentleman. The expression of confusion hadn't yet left his face.

    She latched onto his arm and leaned into him, following his lead into the restaurant.

    He waited. He waited until they were seated and until the waiter had given them their menus before asking her, "What was that about?"

    "I can't kiss my boyfriend?" she asked him, looking over her menu.