Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Eight-Seven

    Mia was slow to wake. When she finally opened her eyes, she was greeted with the sight of Drake sleeping. For those first few moments of consciousness, her mind was a blank slate. But then there were those damned memories again, rearing their ugly heads. She cuddled closer to the man who'd gone above and beyond to protect her yesterday.

    His arms were still around her. There would be moments throughout the night when she'd woken up and she had turned her back to him, holding onto her pillow with a death grip. Shortly after, she'd fall asleep and wake up to find his arms around her again. He was determined to make sure she felt safe, and he had done just that. When he held her, she felt like nothing could touch either of them, like their love helped to make the both of them invincible.

    Dark eyes fringed with thick, black lashes fluttered open. He stared at her for several minutes before saying, "Good morning."

    "Morning," she returned.

    "We should talk. About last night."

    "I'd rather not," she said, laying her head on his chest to avoid having to look him in eyes that were intently studying her.

    "If you don't feel comfortable speaking to me about it, you should consider talking to someone else," he suggested. "Maybe a professional."

    "I'm not ready to talk about it at all, Aubrey."

    He sighed and squeezed her. "You shouldn't keep your feelings in like that."

    "I'll talk to you about them," she vowed. "I just...can't right now."

    "Okay."

    "But...thank you for taking care of me last night."

    He lovingly caressed her hair, bringing back memories of the way he'd stroked her hair the previous night. "I'll always take care of you. Do you hear me? Always." He kissed the tip of her nose and settled his head back on his pillow.

    She wished that they could stay in bed for the entire day, but he was a man on the move. After a quick breakfast, he and his crew spent the day packing up and coordinating logistics for the equipment that had to be transported from New York to their next tour stop.

    The media was in a frenzy over what had transpired between Drake and Trevor. More and more facts about the altercation were coming to light. Mia scrolled through her news feed. Surprisingly, Vanessa wasn't the one divulging details about what had happened in the theater bathroom. Mia had pegged her as the kind of woman who would do anything to stay in the spotlight; it seemed that milking Trevor's death was something that even she wasn't low enough to do. Theater employees, however, were more than happy to speak to the press, and video footage showing Trevor sneaking into the Women's bathroom was leaked to the media. The video showed Trevor sneaking in, and Mia walking in nearly half an hour later, according to the time stamp at the bottom of the video footage.

    After seeing the video footage, she dropped her cell phone on the bed and gripped the edges of the mattress. She rose from the bed and grabbed one of her suitcases from the corner of the room. She could just barely make out Drake's voice on the other side of the bedroom door. He'd taken several calls that morning out in the living room of the suite. Tragedy strikes, but the following day he was back to business. From his demeanor, she wouldn't have been able to tell that he ended a man's life the previous day. He hadn't been lying or exaggerating when he'd told her that he didn't feel any remorse over killing Trevor. There was something both chilling and comforting in how easily he was able to get back in the swing of things.

    Drake entered the room, holding the phone up to his ear. "Yeah, we're getting packed up right now. Future is getting his gear situated as we speak. I figure we'll be ready to start rolling in about an hour? Two at the most?" He moved around the room, quick to collect belongings and get them packed up, her actions were much slower by comparison. She often found herself staring into space while holding up a dress she intended to pack away.

    "Do you have everything?" he asked, poking his head into the bedroom.

    She snapped out of her reverie and tossed the last piece of clothing into her suitcase. "Yeah."

    He didn't budge from his spot in the doorway.

    "I have everything," she reiterated, zipping up her suitcase.

    "All right. I'm going to have Chubbs and Tank bring your stuff down."

    A loud knock sounded on the door, sending him off to find out whether or not that was Chubbs or Tank.

    She folded her arms across her chest and followed him down the hall, her steps slow. Even after the shower she'd taken last night and the shower she'd taken this morning, she still didn't feel quite clean. Tugging the hem of her pink flannel button-down shirt, she watched as Drake drew open the door to the hotel suite.

    A woman stood on the other side, a woman wearing a floppy, cream-colored hat, a flowy silk brown blouse, and tight-cream colored jeans. Large sunglasses hid her eyes from view, but her honey-colored tresses gave her away.

    Mia's brows furrowed. "Bey?"

    Beyonce glanced from left to right, scanning the hall before whipping her designer sunglasses off. "Hi, sugar." She turned her eyes on Drake. "Are you going to invite me in?"

    "Of course," he said, stepping back.

    "I probably should have called," Beyonce said, breezing in. A tall, beefy man with skin nearly as light as Drake's trailed behind her. "I was hoping to catch you before you left town."

    "Is there a problem with one of the tracks?" Mia asked.

    Beyonce looked confused for a moment. Then she laughed and shook her head. "No, the tracks are great," she said with a wave of her hand. "I'm not here on business. I'm here because of what happened last night."

    Mia lowered her eyes and clasped her hands together in front of her.

    Beyonce directed at Drake, "Could you give us girls a minute to talk?"

    "Ofcourse," he said, moving over to Mia. He cupped her cheek and pressed akiss to her temple before sauntering down the hall and closing the door behindhim once he was in the bedroom.