May 3rd, 1990
Author's POV
Lauryn sat on the couch in a daze, replaying everything that had happened between her and Mariah the night before.
"Aye, what's wrong with you?" Mel asked, walking over and waving a hand in front of her face.
She shrugged. "Nothing."
"Bullshit. What's wrong with you?" Mel pressed.
She sighed, knowing he would not let it go. "Remember Mariah?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, I saw her yesterday at Santalino's," she said.
"Oh yeah?" he replied.
She nodded. "Yeah. And she hates me."
"How do you know that?"
"Because she told me. She said I just up and left her."
"Well... did you?" he asked.
"Nah. I called and tried to tell her, but her mom answered. I wanted to explain everything face to face, but I was in the middle of a drug war. They told me if I didn't leave, they would kill Mariah. I had to do what I had to do."
"Damn," Mel muttered.
"I tried to tell her last night, but she ran away from me."
"You gotta tell her," he said, heading toward the door. "You can't let her walk around thinking you abandoned her."
Lauryn nodded, sitting there alone, trying to figure out how she was going to tell Mariah the truth.
⸻
On the set of Vision of Love
"Alright, for the last shot, we want you to stand here and face this way. This is your good side," the director said.
Mariah nodded and took her position.
"One, two, three, four," the producer counted as the music began.
You treated me kind
Sweet destiny
And I'll be eternally grateful
Holding you so close to me
Prayed through the night
So faithfully
Just knowing the one that I needed
Would find me eventually
I had a vision of love
And it was all that you turned out to be
When she finished, Mariah sighed in relief as everyone applauded. She walked over to review the footage.
"You were great," Claire said, handing her a bottle of water.
"Thank you, darling," Mariah replied, watching the playback.
Her eyes widened when she noticed a small piece of hair fall out during the shot.
"Guys, we might have to redo that part," she said.
"Nah, it's fine," her stylist replied. "You can barely notice it. Besides, no one's looking at your hair when you're hitting notes like that."
Mariah nodded, though it bothered her more than she let on.
Her phone started ringing. She excused herself, walked into her dressing room, and closed the door.
"Hello."
"Mariah."
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"We need to talk," Lauryn said.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"Please. It's important," Lauryn begged.
Mariah exhaled sharply. "Fine."
"Can we meet at Santalino's?" Lauryn asked.
"Sure. Whatever," Mariah said before hanging up.
She removed her makeup, changed her clothes, and checked herself in the mirror before putting on her sunglasses.
When she stepped outside, she climbed into a taxi. "Santalino's, please."
⸻
When she arrived, Mariah spotted Lauryn sitting in the back. She walked over and slid into the seat across from her.
"So, what is it?" Mariah asked, pulling off her shades.
"I wanted to explain why I left," Lauryn said.
Mariah nodded, signaling for her to continue.
"I left because I loved you," Lauryn said. Mariah rolled her eyes. "You had dreams, and I didn't want the life I was living to ruin them."
"I told you I was ride or die," Mariah said. "I didn't care."
"I know. But when they threatened to kill you, I got scared. I did what I had to do to keep you alive. I tried to tell you, but your mom answered. I told her to tell you. Mariah, I loved you with my whole heart. I would have never just left you."
Mariah fell silent.
All this time, she had believed Lauryn walked away for no reason, never knowing she had been trying to protect her.
"Why didn't my mom tell me?" she whispered to herself.
