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( CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: THE UGLY TRUTH ) October, 1993
❝ It's Arkell, he's... he's not himself.❞
TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF S/A & ABUSE.
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Maybe I can be a stay-at-home boyfriend, Devon dryly thought, resting his chin on the table in front of him. Sure, Devon might be bored half the time, and he sure as hell didn't know how to cook, but right at that second, staying cooped up in Janet's mansion seemed to be the best possible option for him. Right now, he was not only a failed actor, but he was also a failed producer, director and street dancer. Now that is something he could add to his resume.
"Devon," Janet's voice brought the dancer out of his self-pitying daze. He lazily turned his head, watching as his girlfriend walked up to him with concern smeared all over her face, "You can't stay inside forever."
She sat down next to him, staring at the male who couldn't seem to get out of his disappointed funk. After telling Janet about the terrible news— aka, the movie's cancellation —she seemed adamant on flipping the decision. She furiously stated that she would talk to Columbia Studios on his behalf, demanding that they un-cancel the movie. But alas, Devon told her that it wasn't necessary. He himself tried to argue with the movie studio further, but they didn't listen to a word he said. So truly, it was no use.
No, the only other option was to return to New York, because, well, he didn't have anything else do to. After five years of non-stop jobs, living in and out of a suitcase and adjusting to an extremely busy schedule, Devon Emmet returned back to Harlem, unemployed, unfulfilled and depressed. Janet came back with him, mainly because she was worried about him. Hell, she was so concerned that she even moved the rehearsals for her upcoming tour to Manhattan, just so that she could be close to him.
Devon appreciated the sentiment, but not even his angelic girlfriend could change the tide of his current situation. Devon Emmet was once again back at ground zero. And The Drum? That name didn't even exist anymore, by now, it was forgotten. Like an old fossil, it was fading away.
"Baby, this isn't over," Janet tried to say, laying a tender hand on Devon's shoulder, "You can always try and see if another studio will fund the movie, or maybe you can fund it yourself!"
Devon knew she was trying to be helpful, but honestly, Devon thought of every other alternative possibility, and it didn't add up. "We've already filmed most of the movie, it'll cost too much to do it all again," Devon sombrely explained. With a tighter budget, might I add, the dancer thought.
He heard Janet sigh from beside him, which prompted the male to sit up, trying his best to see some positivity amidst the darkness. "Listen, maybe it's for the best," Devon shrugged, unable to wipe the frown away from his face, "This movie was too risky anyway, it would've ended up failing."
