Antonio hadn't planned on seeing Camille again so soon, but the city had its own way of pulling people together.
It was late afternoon when his phone buzzed, the notification lighting up her name. He'd saved her number after their first meeting, though he hadn't expected her to use it.
"I'm hosting a little gathering tonight. Nothing crazy, just good people, music, and wine. You should come."
Antonio smirked, reading the message twice. He liked her directness, the casual confidence that came through even in a text.
"What time?" He typed and her reply came almost immediately.
"8. Bring whoever you want, but you better show up."
He stared at the message for a moment before pocketing his phone. He didn't bother telling anyone else. Some things were better experienced alone. Then, there was a knock on the door, catching Antonio's attention. He smiled, thinking that it was her. As he walked to the door and looked through the peephole, nobody was there. He opens the door and looks both ways ... Not a single soul in sight. He looks down at his feet and notices something ... Dead Roses with a note saying:
"I know who you are." Antonio picks up the roses and quickly goes back into the house to get rid of them; He then calls Louie.
"Hey man, what's up?" Louie answered
"Hey, can you come by right quick? I got some weird shit." Tony says.
"Uh, if it's a song, I can't tonight man. I'm on daddy duty cause Tina's out with her friends."
Antonio looks at the note before Louie snaps him out of his gaze:
"Tony?" Louie says
"Yeah! I'm here man. My connection's being dumb, but alright. I gotta go, I'll talk to you later."
By 8:30, Antonio was standing outside of Camille's building, a sleek high rise with floor to ceiling windows glowing against the night sky. A doorman nodded as he approached, opening the door without question.
Camille met him at the entrance to her penthouse, dressed in an oversized white shirt that barely skimmed her thighs, her hair swept into a loose bun. She looked effortlessly chic, the kind of style that came naturally to someone like her.
"You're late." She teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
"Fashionably." Tony countered, stepping inside.
The room was filled with a soft buzz of conversation. A small group of artists, models, and creatives lounged on plush sofas, glasses of wine in hand. A low hum of music played in the background, the kind of atmospheric sound that blended perfectly with the setting.
"You want a drink?" Camille asked, leading him toward the bar set up near the balcony.
"Whiskey, if you've got it." He said, his eyes scanning the room.
Camille poured the drink herself, handing it to him before leaning against the counter.
"So, what's the story of the song you're working on?"
Tony raised an eyebrow, surprised she even knew about it. "Who says I was working on a song?"
"I can tell," she said with a knowing look. "You've got that distracted artist energy. Let me guess, something moody. Emotional, with a hint of trouble?"
He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "You're not wrong."
Her smirk softened into a genuine smile. "You should play it for me sometime."
"Maybe," Tony said "If you're lucky.."
They spent the rest of the evening moving through conversations that felt strangely intimate despite the crowd around them. Tony found himself drawn to her energy, how she seemed both grounded and completely untouchable ... Like him.
At one point, they ended up on the balcony, the city sprawled out below them like a living, breathing thing. Camille leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the skyline.
"Do you ever feel like you're chasing something you can't quite catch?" She asks the superstar.
"All the time" He replies "Sometimes the demands get too much, and I almost burn out mentally and physically. But hopefully, with this new manager, shit gets better."
"New manager?"
"Yeah, she's very supportive too. I hired her when I pitched the album a couple days ago."
Camille nodded. She listened as Antonio spoke highly of his manager and the album.
"So, to my question before .. What happens when you catch it?"
Antonio takes a step closer, his drink forgotten in his hand. "I guess you hold onto it if you're lucky."
She didn't respond, but the way her eyes lingered on his said more than words ever could.
As the night wore on, the gathering began to thin out. Camille walked Tony to the door, her hand slightly brushing his arm.
"Thanks for coming," she said softly
"Thanks for the invitation." He replied
As he stepped into the elevator, he found himself already thinking about her again. She was like the afterglow of a song, impossible to forget, even after the music stops.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Roze
General FictionFollow the journey of an R&B artist who embraces his individuality and dives into his most personal and provocative creative project yet. 🥀
