Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Seventy-Four

    Drake insisted on joining Mia for her studio session with Nicki. She had back to back sessions scheduled with both Nicki and Beyonce, and she didn't have the energy to argue the reasons why he shouldn't accompany her.

    For the first time since she'd started working with Nicki, Mia agonized over what to wear for the studio session. Nicki said early on that she wanted her collaborators to feel comfortable, and come wearing whatever they felt like wearing. Mia had felt liberated to know that she could roll up to the studio wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but that was then. That was before she knew that Nicki and Drake had hooked up in the past. Now knowing what she knew, Mia felt like walking into the studio dressed in a killer ensemble. The drawback of that, though, would be that she'd look like she was trying too hard.

    Decisions, decisions, she thought while frowning down into her suitcase. Go casual, or go dressy?

    Drake exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. He arched a single, thick brow when he saw her seated on the floor. "You're still not dressed?"

    Her frown deepened as she evaluated the garments in her suitcase. "Nope."

    "It's just a day at the studio," he said as he walked past her. "You don't have to worry about how you look in the studio."

    "Unless a past hookup of your boyfriend's will be in the studio with you," she muttered, picking up a cute midriff top. With a frustrated sigh, she dropped it back into the suitcase and stood up.

    "Are you serious?" he asked her, scratching his head.

    She felt his eyes on her as she walked towards the closet. "As a heart attack," she said.

    He walked up to her.

    She stood at the closet, reviewing the dresses hanging on the closet rod, and fought to keep her back to him.

    "Mia," he said softly.

    "Let me tell you what I'm thinking," she said, instead of responding. "I was thinking, maybe a cute little dress. Nothing too crazy, nothing too formal-looking. Maybe tone it down with some sneakers, instead of heels, so I don't look like I'm trying too hard?"

    He sighed loudly.

    "Or," she said, sliding some of her dresses across the closet rod, "how about a nice top, nice pair of jeans, and heels? That would probably be the safe choice. I can look hot without looking like I'm trying to look hot." She turned to face him. "Am I right?"

    There was an intense look in his dark eyes. "You don't think you're doing a little too much?"

    "Of course I think I'm doing too much," she told him. "I think I deserve to do a little too much, though."

    "And I'll give you that," he said. "Because I did fuck up. But...you're acting like you have to compete with her, when you don't."

    She stared at him without saying a word.

    He took a step closer to her. "You don't have to compete with her. You don't have to compete with anyone. You're the woman that I want. That's how I've felt, ever since I saw you at OVOFest. That's how I still feel now."

    She dropped her gaze and closed her fists at her sides.

    "You can be as bitchy to me as you want to be," he said softly, lifting a hand and touching her hair. "You can throw out as many insults as you want, have angry sex with me as much as you want, and stop telling me you love me if you want to. But...that won't stop me from loving you. It won't stop me from wanting you."

    He's just being the smooth talker that he is. Don't buy into it. She kept the expression on her face impassive. "Well, that's good to know," she said, and walked around him.

    He remained standing near the closet.

    She returned to her suitcase and settled on a t-shirt and jeans. As she got dressed, she would sneak a glance at Drake here and there.

    He collected articles of his clothing from the closet and his suitcase, and quietly started dressing.

    She hated this. She hated being a bitch to him when all she really wanted to do was run up to and hug him. It was torture, feeling this distant from him, but she didn't know what else to do. She felt that forgiving him too quickly would send the message that withholding information from her was okay, and it wasn't. So, as awkward as it was and as much as it hurt, she finished dressing without talking to him. Then she grabbed her makeup bag and took it into the bathroom. She might be dressed casually, but that didn't mean that her hair and makeup couldn't be on point.

    By the time she was finished, Drake was dressed, also in a t-shirt and jeans. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at his phone.

    She cleared her throat and smoothed her hair down as she entered the room.

    His gaze followed her. "They really are predicting we'll be the power couple of the year," he said. "It's not just one gossip blog saying it. It's what everyone is saying. They love us together."

    "That's cute," she said, walking further into the room and kneeling down in front of her suitcase. She placed her makeup bag back in the suitcase.

    "It is cute," he agreed, his voice quiet.

    She looked up at him.

    His attention was back on his phone. He wasn't touching the screen or scrolling through messages or articles, just staring down at it with a sad look in his eyes.

    With a shake of her head, she closed her suitcase and zipped it up.

    Before they headed out, she made sure to grab her sunglasses from the dresser. After sliding them up her nose and fluffing her hair, she grabbed her purse and announced that she was ready.

    Drake called Chubbs and Tank. Moments later, a heavy-handed knock sounded at their hotel room door. Drake went to answer the door.

    Mia was slow to follow him.

    They left the hotel room and walked down the hotel hallway. Mia remained several feet behind Drake. When they boarded the elevator, they were forced to stand a bit closer together. His hand brushed against hers. She didn't know whether or not it was accidental, and didn't ask him. She continued staring straight ahead at the elevator doors, until they opened.

    Mia was the first one off of the elevator, eager to get out of that cramped space. It was hard to keep her mind clear, hard to stay objective when she was standing near him. She crossed the lobby, but her steps slowed once she saw the crowd of photographers outside of the hotel lobby doors.

    Drake caught up to her. "I guess they found out where we're staying," he muttered. "They probably followed us here last night."

    "So...I guess it's showtime, then," she said nervously.

    "I guess so," he echoed.

    She looked down at their hands, so close to touching. With her heart racing, she moved her hand closer to his. 

    His hand inched closer to hers, then bumped against hers.

    Her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of seconds. When she opened her eyes, she grabbed his hand. "If the press and the fans are calling us the couple of the year, then who are we to disappoint them, right?"

    A small smile curved his lips.