Fireworks 3 and 4

Chapter 6ixty-6ix

    The hospital wanted to hold Mia overnight for observation. This wasn't her first hospital stay where it was deemed she was suffering from exhaustion, so they wanted to play it safe. After chatting it up with her girls, she inquired about whether or not Drake was still waiting outside of the hospital room. Desirae went to check and returned to report that she didn't see him out there.

    I wonder what's going through his mind, Mia thought after her friends had left. With effort, she angled her body so that she could reach the nightstand. She picked up her cell phone and, ignoring a number of missed messages and phone calls, put in a call to the person she was already missing the sight of.

    "Hey."

    "Hey," she mimicked, her brows drawing together. "Is everything okay?"

    "Yeah." There were sounds in the background, but she couldn't pick out what they were. "I didn't want to interrupt girl time. Wanted you to have some time with them, without my bullshit."

    "Now you're worried about imposing your bullshit on me?" she joked.

    He was quiet on the other end of the line.

     "Aubrey."

    "Yeah."

    That was when fear really gripped her. Growing tense in her hospital bed, she asked him, "What's wrong?"

    "Nothing is wrong. Just trying to give you some space to spend time with your friends. They traveled this entire way to see you." A tapping sound at the other end of the line.

    "That doesn't mean that I wouldn't have any time to see you," she said, gripping the cell phone tightly in one hand. 

    "Mia."

    "You don't get to do this," she said in a low voice. With the environment she was in, she had to worry about doctors and nurses rushing to her room if she got too excitable.

    He sighed.

    "No, no, no," she insisted. "You don't get to fuck up, have me take you back, beg for me not to have all of this space between us, and then try to back away from me like this."

    "No one thinks you should be with me," he stated, his voice sounding a lot more devoid of emotion than usual. "Not even your own friends. All I do is hurt you. You're in there because of me. So maybe we just...call this what it is."

    Words escaped her. She sat there, staring into the dark holding her phone to her ear. "Stop it," she whispered. Those were the only words she could come up with, and she hated herself for it.

    "The dancer called it. You can't decide if you want to be with me, and maybe that's because you shouldn't be. At least, not right now. So...I want you to rest. I want you to heal-"

    She ended the call and sat in bed, trying not to send her vitals in a frenzy. Then, she slowly removed all of the random cords they had connected to her, and slowly slid out of the hospital bed. With her mind racing, she turned her head and eyed the cabinet in the corner.

~~~~~~

    Drake sat staring at his phone for a moment. Did she really just hang up on me? Posted in the living room of his house, he set his phone aside, and continued rolling the blunt he'd started. His nerves were frayed, because even in trying to back away from her, he felt like he'd hurt her. There was no winning this. Stay with her and hurt her, or walk away and hurt her. All he could do was try to do what was right for the long run.

    He finished rolling the blunt and lit it, briefly hypnotized by the flame. 

    Sophie had Adonis for the night, and he probably wouldn't have been the best company for his kid anyway. He was too irritable, too raw right now. 

    So, he remained in his living room and smoked with grime music playing at a low volume. Took several puffs and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling and wishing that he could be a different man. What would his life have looked like if he'd been an accountant or some shit, instead of a rapper? A fine, upright man who married one of the first women that came along, had kids with her, and stayed faithful to her? No drama, no women troubles, no crazy tour life, just...responsible living?

    "That shit just doesn't appeal to me," he said to no one in particular, taking another puff of the blunt. "I don't think I could have ever lived a life like that. It's not what I want for myself." Even with all of the drama, craziness and heartache, he preferred the life he lived now to some hypothetical "right" way of living. His only motivation for even being curious about how the other half lived was the fact that the fine, upright version of himself would have never caused Mia emotional harm. Then again, I probably would've never met Mia, he reasoned. Touring is what brought her into my life in the first place. He ran a hand over his face while dangling the blunt. 

    A thunderstorm rolled through Los Angeles and its suburbs, at first tiny pitter patters of rain on his patio doors. Those little splatters of rain were quickly followed by long streaks of jig-jagged streaks ripping through the sky.

    He watched it all through the French doors leading to his patio, fascinated by those jarring streaks of light and rumble of thunder. "A not-so-quiet storm," he mused to himself, placing the blunt between his lips. 

    A knock sounded at his front door.

    He turned his head, wondering whether or not he'd imagined the sound.

    The knock sounded again and then the sound of the doorbell.

    Leaning forward, he placed the blunt onto an ashtray and rose from the couch. His head was already in the clouds, too much to even begin to wonder who'd be knocking on his door at this hour. Making his way to the door was its own challenge, as it felt like he was wading through water. Once he opened the door to reveal the knocker, he realized that he should've known who it was. He should've realized that this was the next series events as soon as he'd heard the sudden absence of air at the other end of the phone call he was on earlier.

    Mia stood on the other side of the threshold, standing in the rain wearing nothing more than her hospital gown. Hair soaked and tears mingling with raindrops. "I do know what I want," she said, taking a step forward.

    He stepped back to allow her inside, trying to clear his mind and decide whether or not this was even happening. Then he froze in place as she pressed herself against him, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed his very breath away.