50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

50SOD II: Chapter Fifteen

    Destiny wanted to talk about his childhood, his ex-fiance, his past. Those were chapters of his life that he wasn't comfortable speaking about. For years, there hadn't been a reason for him to open up about those parts of his life. His interaction with women had been purely physical and carnal in nature. No need for delving into each other's personal history, no need for life stories. Granted, Destiny had accessed parts of him that no other woman had. He had strong feelings for her and wanted to open up to her.

    But opening up is easier said than done, Aubrey thought, tapping the end of a pen on the surface of his home office desk. Music made it possible for me to talk about those circumstances. Music allowed me to open myself up to the world, talk about events that changed me or helped me to become the man that I am.

    The day he'd faded into the background of the music industry, however, was the day that he'd closed himself off - to the public, to the media, and to anyone else he hadn't already allowed into his inner circle. There were valid reasons for that. His trust had been abused on more than one occasion. Interviewers were always looking to put a spin on what entertainers had to say, always looking to stir up drama for the sake of selling more copies of their publication. Women were always looking to use him for their own personal gain, whether it was so they could be photographed with him, or associated with him so they could launch their own career from it. Always something.

    The thing about closing yourself off is that once you do it, it becomes automatic. You become used to it. You feel more in control of yourself and your life. When you are asked to open yourself up again, it throws you off. The thought of opening up makes you feel that you would be vulnerable. Open to attack.

    Of course it's silly for me to think that Destiny would ever "attack" me, he thought now, lowering his gaze to the sheets of paper scattered across his desk. I know that she has my best interests at heart. I know that she wouldn't ever hurt me, not on purpose. So why is it still so hard for me to open up when she asks me to?

    And this Carlos business.

    Aubrey stood up from his chair and crossed the home office space located in the loft area of his condo. He walked over to the railing and leaned over it, peering out of the tall living room window. Carlos was quite obviously into men. As such, there wasn't much to fear from Carlos and Destiny sharing a living space together. While Aubrey didn't fear that Carlos would steal Destiny away from him, so to speak, Carlos was visiting at a time that was inconvenient, to say the least. Things are already tense between her and I. I already feel more distant from her than I want to. And with him here, spending so much time with her, the distance between her and I would only increase. That's why I had to put my foot down. I wasn't trying to make her angrier with me. I wasn't jealous of Carlos. I wasn't trying to be difficult. I was just...desperately clinging to whatever time I could get with her. A part of him had liked being the only person she knew in Toronto. He wanted to be her entire world, and that sounded a bit egotistical. He couldn't help it, though. She was everything to him. He wanted to be everything to her, plain and simple.

    He had messed up. He had messed up major. And he had a lot of things to make up for. He didn't know how he could begin to do that with Carlos in the picture, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

    The sound of a door opening reached his ears. He angled his gaze downward and a moment later, Destiny stepped into view. By now, he'd seen her walk into a room close to a hundred times, if not more. His heart still stopped every time.

    She had an overnight bag strapped to her shoulder. He noted that it wasn't the Chanel bag he'd bought her weeks ago. Her purple blazer was slung over her forearm. The colorful sleeveless blouse she'd worn underneath displayed golden-brown, well-toned arms that he knew were soft to the touch. She stood in that same spot, looking towards the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the length of the dining room and living room.

    From where he stood, he could only see her profile. But he wondered what she was thinking about. Was she angry with him? Or worse, did she pity him? Did she regret becoming involved with him? Did she still view him as broken? Messed up?

    She sighed and turned her head towards the hallway...towards the master bedroom, where she probably figured he was holed up. Her fingers fidgeted with the shoulder strap of her overnight bag as she started to head towards the hallway.

    He watched her walk down the hallway, and several thoughts occurred to him at once.

    The first thought was frivolous, almost trivial, a general admiration of her natural beauty. He loved moments like this, moments when she didn't even know he was watching. Moments when he could observe her in her element.

    The second thought was more of a memory, really. He remembered the words he'd thought to himself that night, weeks ago, in the helicopter. That had been a magical night, a very important night for him...the night when he'd told Destiny just how special she was to him. It had been the perfect night, really. And on that night, he had thought to himself, You have her, and she's yours, and she's devoted to you. Now, all you have to do is keep her. Words he intended to live by, a vow that he took very seriously, although it seemed that he was doing quite the bang-up job of keeping her.

    The third thought...the thought that would help to make sure he'd continue to see the natural beauty he'd acknowledged in the first thought and the thought that would help to keep her with him as he'd vowed to himself in the third thought, also took him back to that magical night. Prior to the helicopter ride and those sentimental words shared on the rooftop of Graham Enterprises, he had performed in a lounge. A spontaneous thing that hadn't been planned. Destiny had watched from the audience. He had looked out, and he'd seen her, and he had wanted to make her proud of him. The third thought that had occurred to him was music. After all, music was what had helped him to open up to the world. Surely, music would help him open up to the one person in the world that he cared to show himself to.

    He returned to his desk and picked up his pen. He remained standing and leaned down to scratch out on a Post-It Note: "High Priority: Order a piano."