Fireworks 3 and 4

Chapter Twenty-Eight

    The anatomy of a celebrity relationship is lost on much of the public. Cheaply-produced love and hip hop shows were surely beginning to bridge that gap, with its manufactured peek into celebrity life and relationships - but ultimately, the public wound up with drama thrown into their faces without a genuine breakdown of why so many celebrity relationships fail.

    First and foremost, there was the fact that you have two people who are desired by legions of people around the world. This much, the vast majority of the public knew and was aware of. This is often the only element needed to brew a recipe for disaster - because when we are talking desired by many, we are talking a stalker-level of devotion on the part of people who go to extreme measures to seek out said celebrity or celebrities. Contrary to increasing popular belief of single women, there are good men out there, including celebrity men. But one stark reality is that when you are faced with growing amounts of temptation, sometimes all it takes is one moment of weakness...one too many drinks in a dimly lit club after an overseas performance, perhaps, followed by an ill-fated romp in an overpriced luxury hotel room. Sometimes all it takes is one heated argument between an otherwise solid couple.

    Another well-known factor in the demise of celebrity relationships was the length of time two working celebrities usually had to spend apart. But unbeknownst to many, it isn't always the time itself that is the issue. The timing of the space apart was just as important as the absence itself.

    Case in point, a pretty sizable bomb had just been dropped on Mia - but it wasn't a bomb that she could sit down and dismantle with the love of her life. Not right now, anyway. There wasn't enough time. She held the cell phone to her ear while watching Drake approach the front door. Her eyes never left his face as he turned the knob to the door. And just as his right foot crossed the threshold, she said calmly in the phone to Bri, "Those words would never come from him. Not from the man I know."

    Drake halted in front of her, his dark eyes large and filled with conflicting emotions.

    "I'll call you later," Mia told her friend before ending the call and crossing her arms over her chest.

    They stood that way for a few moments. This was it: the completely shitty timing of more drama being hurled at them, and she didn't even have the time to grill him. Why? Because he had to jet across the country to Miami for an event hosted by DJ Khaled and French Montana. His appearance had already been announced, and his headshot had already been added to several of the digital flyers floating around on the Liv nightclub Instagram page. It wasn't the type of event she'd even feel comfortable with asking him to skip, even with this latest TMZ story looming over their heads.

    If Mia were an average person who wasn't in the industry - hell, if she was even the Mia from just four years ago, she would be able to drop what she was doing and join him in Miami. Why couldn't she? Because she had interviews here in the Los Angeles area, and those weren't events that she could just cancel either, seeing as she was still establishing and building her brand. So even though she had hundreds of questions she wished she could launch at him, she forced a supportive smile on her face and said, "I hope you kill your performance."

    The relieved, nervous smile that appeared on his face was nearly enough to break her heart into two. "Always," he assured. "And what about you? With your interviews? Other than my security, you're going to be on your own."

    "I can handle it," she insisted.

    He arched an eyebrow as if he wasn't so sure. "So tell me, Mia..." His voice took a forced layer of depth as he held out an invisible microphone to her. "There has been all of these rumors and all of this gossip that you and Nicki are beefing. Care to comment?"

    "No comment," Mia answered robotically, her eyes growing cold.

    "It would be more advantageous if you do comment," he said, his voice switching back to normal. "Whether or not people believe you, they'll be analyzing and overanalyzing and discussing your response for days. Free pub."

    "To give an answer you'd be happy with, I'd have to lie or stretch the truth."

    Lowering the invisible microphone, he firmly shook his head. "You know better than this. You can be honest - it's all in how you present the information."

    The SUV outside honked.

    He ignored the sound. "Question: Do you hate Nicki?"

    "Of course not," was her response.

    "Do you have beef with her? Honestly?"

    "I wouldn't say...not beef, exactly. We just don't fuck with each other, really."

    "Exactly. Okay. So your response then, should be...?"

    Mia scratched at her temple. "There is no beef between me and Nicki. I will always have respect for what she has managed to accomplish in her career...not everyone you come into contact with is meant to be your best friend. Some of the brilliant minds you come across are only meant to be associates or business associates, or casual acquaintances. And there's...nothing wrong with that?" She covered her face with her hands. "Ugh. Let me try again."

    With a deep chuckle, he pried her hands way from her face. "No, that was good. Clean it up, make sure it's a statement and not a question, and you're good. But what if they follow up that question with the rumor that Nicki vaulted a collaboration she had with you? That is pretty much common knowledge at this point."

    "A lot of factors go into when artists drop their music and I respect her decision to withhold that project."

    He beamed and kissed the top of her forehead. "You got this."

    Another honk from the SUV and this time, he cast a brief glance over her shoulder.

    "Aubrey..." she started hesitantly. Now isn't the time to get clingy or emotional, Mia. He's going to work, not going to meet some obscure baby mama that he's keeping a secret from everyone. Chill.

    He arched an eyebrow at her. "Yeah?"

    Her eyes said more than she could ever get her mouth to.

    A wistful look touched his gaze, and he raised a hand to her cheek. "We'll talk when I get back."

    Wait, what the fuck does that mean? Talk about what? Talk about who? Panic seized her to the point where she couldn't manage another fake smile for his benefit.

    "Us against the world?" Now it was his turn to make a statement sound more like a question.

    Some of the panic waned, and she nodded. "Us against the world," she whispered.

    He ducked his head down and kissed her. And then he was gone, soon to be a world away, leaving her to deal with a special kind of hell on her own.