Fireworks 3 and 4

Fireworks: Forever Chapter Fourteen

     Seated poolside wearing board shorts and a baseball cap, Drake cast a glance towards the pool.

    Mia leisurely floated at the center of the pool, soaking up the sun's rays. A pair of designer shades were perched on her nose. 

    After a few moments of watching her, he turned and looked at his house. He was the proud owner of three properties in North America, a private plane, and had multiple business ventures currently in progress. Usually, he was hyperaware of how easily this life could be taken away from him...but once in awhile, he'd lose sight of that. Once in awhile, he'd feel nearly invincible. That's why early on, when the label had approached him with a bunch of wild ideas, he'd welcomed the challenge. He'd been curious to know whether or not the public would still fuck with him after some of those experiments. That's back when the label's requests were reasonable. 

    What they're asking of everyone now is insane, he thought, lowering his eyes to the folder resting on top of the patio table. The folder was closed and remained that way for several more minutes. Prior to leaving the property, Oliver had handed him the folder while giving him a look. That look had spoken measures. It prevented Drake from needing to ask what was inside. All he asked was, "Did you look inside?"

    Oliver had nodded with a solemn expression on his face. 

    Drake had read the expression on his friend's face and instantly knew that whatever was in there was bad. 

    After giving Drake a comforting pat on the back, Oliver had turned and left. 

    Drake had stood there, staring at the glossy folder in his hands. He didn't have the heart to open it, not right after he'd had to ruin the illusion of the industry for his girlfriend. So, he'd tucked it away. Filed it in a drawer. It wasn't as if he could keep the folder in that drawer for long. Its contents held storylines that the puppet masters expected for him to play out. It was naive of me to assume that Mia's storyline was my storyline just because it involved me, he thought now. Even though I was involved, that's not all they have planned for me. They've assigned me other shit. From the look on Oli's face, whatever they assigned me isn't good. That's why he'd put off opening the damned thing. His gaze drifted back to Mia, who looked like a glistening piece of caramel, allowing the water to carry her. She doesn't realize how easy they went on her with this. A fake cheating scandal is nothing compared to what they've assigned to other artists. 

    His phone buzzed on top of the table. The buzzing caused a vibration that brought the device closer and closer to the folder. He idly watched the gadget dance until it came to touch the very edge of the folder, before picking it up and answering. "Yeah."

    "Do you have a folder?" a lilting British accent sounded from the other end of the line. Central Cee, a UK rapper who was quickly emerging into the US market. 

    "I'm staring at it right now," Drake responded automatically. Then, he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. "What do you mean, are you saying that you have one?"

    "Mate, they pulled all of us artists into this huge room and dropped a bomb on us," Central Cee hissed into the phone in a hushed voice. There were other voices in the background. "This can't be real."

    "It's real...I just didn't realize it would apply to artists outside of this continent," Drake said, the gears in his mind working over time.

    "I can't do the shiite in here they're telling me to do," Central Cee stated. "My fans would know it's a bunch of bullshit. It would wreck me. The fuck are they trying to do? End us?"

    Drake ran a hand across his forehead. "They're trying to maintain control of an industry they feel they're losing their grip on."

    "That sounds like a them problem, mate," Central Cee muttered. "Asking us to do all of this is just..."