Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Thirty

    When it came to relationships, Rihanna very much had a mentality that was masculine. Spoil her, treat her right, and be sweeter than pie? She would more than likely break your heart and stomp on it. If she liked you, she might keep you around and toy with you a bit. But if you rejected her, or brushed her off, or if you were angry with her, then you couldn't get rid of her.

    By the time Aubrey got home after leaving the restaurant, he'd had five missed text messages from her. Those messages started off with cussing him out for leaving her by herself in a restaurant, asking him why he would embarrass her like that. Then the messages turned sweet, saying maybe she was overreacting. She even apologized if she came on too strong but said that she missed him and missed what they used to have.

    He didn't respond to any of the messages. He knew better. Once he'd realized that she was trying to get back with him, he knew that he had to cut ties with her. At this point, even if she came up with an idea for a song to collaborate on, it would be a bad idea for him to even record with her. She was on some other shit, and he couldn't be a part of it. Not if he wanted to keep what he had going with Mia. He went to sleep that night with a total of eleven missed text messages from her.

    When he woke up the following morning, he had a total of twenty-seven missed text messages from her. Those messages were all over the place, expressing a range of different emotions, but ultimately the messages became cruel and heartless.

"DO U HONESTLY THINK THAT U CAN STAY FAITHFUL TO HER? U DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT FAITHFUL MEANS," read one text message.

"U WILL END UP BREAKING HER HEART. ESPECIALLY BEING ON TOUR? SHE HAS NO CHANCE. U WILL END UP IN BED WITH A STRIPPER. AND SHE'LL WISH THAT SHE LISTENED TO THE WARNING I GAVE HER."

"U ARE A DOG. U ARE NO GOOD. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I WANTED U BACK. I MUST BE CRAZY."

    There's one thing we can agree on, he thought while sitting on the edge of his bed.

"U SERIOUSLY AREN'T GOING TO RESPOND TO ANY OF MY MSGS? U PIECE OF SHIT. GOOD RIDDANCE. GOOD LUCK WITH MIA. U NEED IT. IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE U FUCK IT UP. U FUCK EVERYTHING UP."

    He set his phone down on the bed and ducked his head down between his knees, resting his elbows on his thighs. Leave it to her to hit me where it hurts. The main reason why he'd hesitated in getting in a relationship with Mia in the first place was because of his career. Being an entertainer came with a lot of temptation. There were a lot of women more than willing to forsake their husbands, their families, and their dignity for just one night with him. While he liked to consider himself a man with a great deal of self-control, even the best man would have trouble turning down offers from some of the women who approached him. Turning them down was not always easy. It got easier as soon as I started dating Mia, though, because she's everything I could ever want. But before that? There had been slip-ups.

    What I need to focus on is the fact that turning down other women now is easy. I love Mia. Mia is the woman I want. There isn't a doubt in my mind about that. So I shouldn't let these jealous, bitter ass text messages make me doubt my own ability to stay faithful to my woman.

                                                                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Mia lowered a pair of shades over her eyes and turned to peer out of the window to her right.

    People across the globe idolized Nicki Minaj and Beyonce, and they had a lot of reasons to do so. Both women had attained enough accolades and success to silence their haters. They were both talented lyrically. Both had amazing voices. Both possessed a presence that was larger than life. Both were also amazingly down to Earth.

    But Mia now had an entirely different reason to respect both of them.

    "We are here," the driver announced.

    "Thank you so much," she said graciously, fishing inside of her purse for a tip.

    Tank, seated beside her, took care of the tip for her.

    She smiled at him.

    "I'll get the door for you." He opened the door to his left, stood out of the car, and closed the door. A moment later, he was opening her door and helping her out.

    "Did you need help with your bag?" the driver called out to her.

    "I have it," Tank told him. "Just pop the trunk, would you?"

    She stood on the curb, staring down the street. Moments later, she was standing beside him in an elevator, scrolling through her missed messages. There was one from Drake. Her fingers flew across the screen as she typed a response to him. The elevator doors opened. She knelt down, picked up her Louis Vuitton bag, and turned to look at Tank.

    "I'm going to take a walk," he announced. "Just text me if you need me."

    She nodded. "Thank you so much."

    He gave her a curt nod.

    She stepped off the elevator and headed down a long, carpeted hallway with bright sconces lighting the way. The plush carpet dulled any sounds that her boots would have made as she made her way to Suite 1139. Raising a hand and knocking on the door, she turned her head and gazed down the hallway. It was quiet. No one in sight.

    The door opened and a tall, bare-chested man with skin the color of an Irish cream latte stood before her. Beautiful, downturned eyes wide with shock. "Mia?"

    With her eyes locked on his, she slowly started to unbutton her navy blue, short-sleeved dress. When it was unbuttoned, she spread it open, revealing silky blue panties, a matching bra, and thigh high boots. She raised a hand to her hip and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "So...I kind of missed you," she said softly.

    He stared at her long and hard, but it didn't take long for him to get over his shock. He reached out, grabbed her, and pulled her into his hotel room.