Determined not to let old habits ruin their stable lives they miss out on love. Ignoring similarities. Shrugging off bonds. Their only difference is the very thing that brought them together. Fame. Where did things go wrong? When did things get so d...
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Cammie
I fell back on the bed. Oh my gosh. My legs felt like rubber. I roll over on my stomach. 6 hours of practice plus the concert last night. We have one tonight. Chris changed up the routine because this is his home state. I never thought I would be tired of Chris Brown. But today I was tired of hearing his voice.
“Aye, lunch!” Chris yells hitting the door.
“I’m not eating.”
“Why not?” he says after opening the door.
I roll over. “Don’t feel like it.”
“What? That’s a lazy excuse.” he says pulling my arm. “It’s the price of fame.”
“I don’t see how you do it.” I stand up. “Wait. I ain’t famous.”
“Yeah but you sho are country, Dolly.”
They keep calling me a Dixie Chick because of my accent. I don’t talk like that. I do have a heavy accent but not like the Dixie Chicks. I walk behind him to the other room. They had food laid out on a long table. These people were starting to seem like my brothers and sisters only they fucked each other. I chuckle to myself. More like frat and sorority brothers and sisters. That’s more like it. I went to sleep seeing them, woke up seeing them, knew almost everything about all of them.
“Aye, Dixie?”
“Shut up.” I say to Isas.
“Your shirt on backwards.” he says.
Is it really? I look down. “Jackass.”
“Ha.” he laughs walking away.
“Cammie, I got this new video to show you. It is funny.” Chloe says taking out her phone. “My cousin sent it to me.”
Chloe makes me miss Miya. She hasn’t been able to talk much since the baby and working. I wanted her to come to a couple of shows with me but Imma just wait until we go near South Carolina and get her tickets. I have been having tickets to every show but no one to give them to. She is off today and said she would call me after she leaves the doctor’s office. I plop down beside Felton. I’m still waiting on his dirt from in the closet to come out. I swear he is gay. His party habits don’t support it. The tour life isn’t one big ass party. Its work, work, work, break, work, party, party, party, work, work, work, work. I like the sightseeing though.
“Hey, Mama.” Felton yells at Joyce.
“Hey, Felton.” she smiles. She smiles harder at me and continues to the table.
“I hope y'all said your grace.” she proclaims.
I raise my eyebrows. Nobody else says anything. Uh oh. Now some random person is going to have to bless the food out loud. I look at Felton. He keeps a straight face.
