Fireworks 1 and 2

Jungle: Chapter Ninety-Three

    Indianapolis. Not a city often mentioned in casual conversation, unless you were from the area - or unless you were a Colts fan. For what it lacked in notoriety, it made up for in pure energy. The crowd was lit. Supportive. They sang and rapped along with every word, screamed at the sight of Mia.

    Despite having been hospitalized mere days ago, she jumped around the stage, sang with every fiber of her being, and tried her best to give the city a show. She saw her image plastered on large monitors suspended from the ceiling. On the surface, she looked amazing. Clad in a red mesh top with a visible matching bra, skimpy short gold skirt, and thigh-high gladiator Sergio Rossi boots, she definitely looked the part. Thanks to her makeup, the cameras weren't able to capture the circles she knew she had under her eyes. The stage lights helped her eyes to look bright and energetic, when she felt quite the opposite.

    The first set of songs on Drake's tour list were high-energy. He tended to like to open the show with a bang, sprinkle a few of his slower melodies in the middle, and close off on a high-energy note. Engage the audience, give them a chance to breathe, and get them lit again so that was the feeling they left the auditorium with. He'd explained it to her months ago. "I want to leave them with the lasting impression that the entire show was lit. That is what my formula does. If I end off on a slow note, even if the rest of the show was lit, there will be those fans who will base their feeling of the entire concert on those last few songs." He continued to impress her, with how much thought he put into the psychology of a fan.

    She watched him jumping around the stage while providing minimal backup for "Know Yourself." He sneaked a few glances at her, but most of his focus onto the crowd. Towards the end of the song, all of his crew came bursting forth from backstage, joining Drake so they could jump around with him. The crowd chanted, "Running through the six with my W.O.E.'s," and many of them were jumping up and down to the beat of the song. The energy was contagious. No matter how exhausted Mia felt, she had to jump along with everyone else.

    "Know Yourself" rounded out the first set. The stage lights dimmed. Drake slung an arm around Mia's shoulders and walked her off of the stage. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice nearly drowned out by the screams of the crowd and his homeboys.

    "I'm fine," she answered, leaning heavily into him.

    He leaned over and kissed her on the temple. "You're doing a great job. Just try not to push yourself too hard, okay?"

    They stepped down into the corridor that ran behind the stage, and walked to a dressing room they shared. The minute he stepped away from her, she found the nearest wall and leaned against it, thankful for the opportunity to close her eyes and take a breather.

    "For my next tour, I want my wardrobe to be a little...louder than this," she heard him tell someone from his crew. "I'm doing nothing but t-shirts and jeans and hoodies and jeans for this. Which is cool, but...I want to change it up for the next tour."

    With a reluctant sigh, she pushed herself from against the wall and crossed the room so she could start changing. What I wouldn't give for a comfy bed and a cup of warm tea right now, she thought as she slid her skirt down her legs.

    "Are you sure you're okay?" Drake asked her.

    She hurriedly dressed in her next performance ensemble without responding.

    "You know that you don't have to do this, right?"

    Yes, Mia knew that she didn't have to do this. The story was that she'd suffered from exhaustion. The media was still reporting on what they were calling Trevor Riley's descent into madness. They were even digging into his past and uncovering other women he'd tormented throughout the years. While concertgoers might be disappointed, the public would understand if she took a break from tour. The thing was, though, she didn't want to take a break. Having to focus on rehearsals and costumes and the performance were helping to keep her sane. It kept her mind busy, kept her from replaying the sordid event. She still had a hard time going into bathrooms, and that was something she was going to have to work through. But she was determined not to let him win. She was determined not to let that one night crush her. "I'm doing this, Aubrey," she said, adjusting the earpiece she wore in her ear.

    "You can do an abbreviated performance. Only perform a few more songs. Take it easy."

    "I'm doing the full performance."

    He slid a belt through the beltloop of dark jeans as he crossed the dressing room. The look on his face was serious. "I'm worried about you."

     I'm worried about me, too. Out loud, she said, "I'm okay. I can do this."

    His eyes narrowed as he buckled his belt. "I had FutureThePrince adjust the music of the song that freaked you out," he explained. "The banging sounds aren't as loud. They're subdued. Very subtle."

    "You really did that?" she asked him in awe.

    He shrugged. "I get a good idea once in awhile. And in Cleveland, you were fine up until that song. It didn't take much to figure out what you were reacting to. We'll test it out tonight, see if it works better for you. If it does, that is the song version we'll use for the rest of the tour."

    Just when I thought I couldn't love him any more than I already did. She moved closer to him, dressed in full concert getup: glittering halter top, long, flowy translucent skirt. Wrapping her arms around him, she rose on her tiptoes. When her mouth was only mere centimeters away from his, she asked him, "Do you know what you are?"

    His eyes sparkled. "Your Drizzy baby?" he asked, pressing his forehead against hers.

    She laughed. "That, too."

    "What else?" he prompted.

    Closing her eyes, she whispered, "My everything."

    His crew bustled around them, a few of them chatting away on cell phones, and others returning text messages they'd had to ignore for the past few hours. All of those sounds faded into the background as Mia touched her lips to Drake's. They pulled back from the kiss, and he circled his arms around her. "The feeling is mutual," he told her.