Fireworks 3 and 4

Chapter Thirty-Five

    The industry hardens you. It has to, in order for you to have a chance at surviving it. Once you are a part of the industry, it doesn't take long to realize just how many people are out to use you. It doesn't take long to realize just what people are willing to do in order to get put on. As a means of self-defense, many people develop a skin as thick as armor. That isn't always enough. Sometimes the sharpest pain came from those closest to you, and when you were both a part of the industry, people chose sides. Regardless of the fact that Drake was in the wrong, his boys chose his side. Bri, Desirae, and the rest of her girls chose her side. New friend Issa Rae, who nursed an eternal crush on Drake, didn't know the details so she didn't know whose side to root for.

    "You haven't even asked about him. Not once have you asked how he's doing."

    Mia sat at her vanity while her assistant packed bags for their upcoming trip to New York. She had a live performance scheduled for the MTV Music Awards. It was the perfect precursor to her album release. A new album of hers was dropping. She should feel excited about that, proud of the work she had put in, and enthusiastic because of the warm reception to the single that was released to radio a month back.

    Instead, she found herself mulling over Oliver's words. A man cheats on me, is rumored to have fathered a child with the woman he cheated on me with, and Oliver wants to know why I'm not chomping at the bit to know how Aubrey is doing?

    She stared at her reflection while dragging a cleaning wipe across one cheek. A layer of makeup transferred from her skin to the wipe, leaving pristine, pretty brown skin in its wake. Tear tracks marked her cheeks as she continued removing layer upon layer of makeup. These days, she didn't even recognize herself. But the mask she wore was helping her to trudge on forward. She had come close to crumbling those three years ago. Writing was impossible at a time when it should have benefit her most.

    For approximately four months, she'd had a semblance of peace and reflection. After that, the Drake inquiries had started. Every interview. Every red carpet appearance. Fans started to pull her aside and ask how he was doing. And it wasn't their fault. They didn't know why their seemingly innocent question instantly made her irritated. She didn't want to drag his name all across the press, so she'd brushed off the question in interviews. They'd gone their own separate ways and she still wished him well. That was the extent of what she was willing to say to the public. But the public wasn't having it. The blithe statement wasn't enough for them. They wanted to know where Drake was, how he was, and why he wasn't posting to social media. They wanted to know when he would next be dropping an album.

    Her heart was broken and she needed distance from him, but his name was thrown at her every day, nearly all day. Her own friends knew the situation and still wanted to know more details, still asked her if he had reached out to her. She couldn't escape him, no matter how hard she tried.

    Attempting to break her contract was an attempt for her to keep her own sanity.

    "Black dress or blue?" Tori asked behind her, holding up two dresses.

    "Blue," Mia answered absent-mindedly, holding the makeup wipe while staring at her reflection.

    "Are...are you okay?"

    More tears formed and rolled down Mia's cheeks. She twisted around in her chair, smiling appreciatively at Tori. It was the first time anyone had asked her that question since the breakup had happened.

    Tori clucked her tongue and dropped both dresses. In four seconds flat, she was across the room with her arms around Mia.

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