Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Twenty-One

    New York. Beautiful chaos. Everyone in a hurry to make it to their destination. No time to stop and smell the concrete roses, no time for pleasantries. It was a strange place for a person who'd grown up in a town where you greet the people you make eye contact with. The first person Mia greeted scowled at her and asked what she was so happy about.

    Tank explained that it wasn't one of the most polite of cities.

    Noted, she thought while tilting her head back to appreciate a skyscraper. Drake had insisted on the finest in hotels for her. "The best of the best for my baby," he had said. And he was so sweet - he had remembered to text as soon as he and his crew landed in Miami.

    Whenever she was out with him, the paparazzi were quick to flock around them. As she walked the streets of NYC, however, she wasn't as easily recognized. She was more than okay with that.

    Her first day in New York City was chill. She and Tank relaxed in their respective hotel rooms. Tank told her to call him if she needed to go anywhere or if she needed anything. Her evening was spent half-paying attention to movies while scrolling through her Instagram account. Drake, OB, Ryan, Chubbs, P. Reign, Hush, and the entire crew were all posting photographs. There were photos of them in the jet, climbing down from the jet, on the balcony in their hotel room. Ryan managed to capture a photo of Drake napping in the jet. Mia smiled wistfully and ran her fingertips down the length of her cell phone screen.

    The phone started to ring in her hands. She jumped, but calmed down when she saw Drake's contact photo pop up on the screen. "Hi."

    There was a lot of shouting and commotion on the other end of the line. "Hey. Did you get settled in okay?"

    "Yeah," she replied, grabbing the remote control off of the nightstand and turning down the volume on the television. "When you're not on my arm, no one even recognizes me."

    He laughed. "Is that right?"

    "I miss you already. Is that crazy?"

    "If it is, then I'm crazy, too. Because I'm missing the hell out of you, girl."

    She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Are you guys having a party over there?"

    "Just the boys being crazy," he said. The noise in the background grew fainter. He was probably putting distance in between himself and his crew. "How is Tank? He doing his job?"

    "He's been awesome," she said.

    "Who do you meet with tomorrow? Nicki or Bey?"

    "Nicki."

    "Tell her I said hi when you see her."

    "I will."

    "Hey!" he shouted, his voice sounding further away from the phone than it had been moments before. "You're being way too loud, OB. You're going to get us kicked the fuck out."

    "Like they're going to kick out Drizzy Fucking Drake!" she heard OB yell back.

    She laughed. "I didn't think it was possible, but I think I even miss OB."

    Drake came back on the phone and laughed along with her. "Now that is crazy." He sighed. "I hate to do this, but we have an early day tomorrow. I really need to get to bed."

    "Ugh."

    "I know."

    "Thank you for calling me. I was just looking at the picture of you that Ryan posted."

    "I look fucking horrible in that picture," he muttered.

    "You look adorable in that picture," she argued. "And I'm glad he took it."

    "You think I look adorable in every picture."

    "No I don't," she insisted. "I can't stand your duck face selfies."

    He started laughing.

    "You look adorable in ninety-nine percent of your pictures."

    "Thank you. You look adorable in a hundred and ten percent of yours."

    "Smooth. Very smooth."

    "I hate to do this..."

    "I know, I know. You have to go." She hugged her knees tightly. "I wish we could take it back to high school and just...stay on the phone all night until we fall asleep."

    "I wish we could, too, but I'd stay up longer wanting to hear that cute voice of yours," he said, lowering his voice. "And then I'd have to ask what you were wearing and what you were doing...and then I'd have to tell you what you should be wearing and what you should be doing."

    Her cheeks flushed and she was glad no one was there to see it.

    "I can't go down that road, not tonight," he told her. "Just...relax tonight. Know that I got to Miami safe, and I'm missing you like hell, and I can't wait to get back to you. Know that I'll be thinking about you before I go to bed tonight and when I wake up tomorrow."

    Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

    "Okay?"

    "Okay," she said. "Know that I miss you so much, and I'll be thinking about you. And if any women try to get at you, I swear to God, I'm coming after them."

    He laughed. "Take your silly ass to bed."

    "I love you," she told him.

    "Hey. I love you, too. You know that. Goodnight, baby girl."

    "Goodnight." She ended the phone call and set her phone beside her on the bed, trying not to cry. She hadn't been away from him for a full twenty-four hours yet. Stop being a punk. You're not going to cry the first night you're away from him. You're not going out like that. She took a deep breath, picked up the remote control, and increased the volume on the television.