Be Together

The Grammys

Niema's POV

These past few weeks off hand been amazing. I spent a few days in New York then went to St. Tropez for the rest of my break. Now I'm in a plane heading to LA to work with Trey Songz on some songs.
My email was full of messages. I don't have a assistant or anything. One woman team. I pulled up my calendar and started scheduling sessions.
"Shit." I have the recording session for Be Together tomorrow. I reschedule Trey already. I can't do it to him again. I sent a email to Wes' manager saying I have to reschedule our session with potential days. Normally I would hit him up personally but I still have a sour taste in my mouth from New Year's.

Diplo's POV

Tour is life. Major Lazer is doing festivals for the past week. We gotta get back into the studio soon. Niema extended her vacation, so I couldn't get in contact with her on Be Together.
When we got to the bus I checked my email. My manager hit me up saying Niema has to reschedule due to scheduling conflicts. This song should be in the mixing stage by now. She can't even call? I'm calling her. Thinking she can ignore me. I'm fucking Diplo. Don't fucking ignore me.
"Hello?" She answered. No hi Wes, hey homie, what up tho?
"You really cancelled on me?" I heard her huff.
"I had Trey schedule for the same time. I put him off once. What day do you want?"
"Fucking tomorrow. We're behind schedule on this song."
"You can't have tomorrow yo. Thinking about it now I just can send you the lyrics."
"I need a reference."
"You end up moving everything around anyway. I'll record it after I'm done with Trey,"
"You prefer being in the studio with the artist. Are you trying to avoid me?" Jillionaire walked up.
"Who?" He mouthed.
"Niema."
"Let's see you let three hoes disrespect me. Multiple times. You came at me wrong. So I'm not fucking with you right now."
"Okay be unprofessional then. Just send me the fuckin' song."
"Fuck you I'll keep the fucking song. Find someone else to put up with your bullshit!"
"You the one bullshitting! Sitting on that fucking song because some hoes were being hoes! What you going to give it to Katy?"
"Calm down, man." Chris said.
"Fuck off! Hopefully one of those Lazer hoes can spell, and help yo dumb ass." She hung up.
"Oh my God." I threw my phone down and put my head in my hands.
"What happened?" Chris asked.
"Niema doesn't want to give us Be Together. I "disrespected" her." Walsh walked up.
"You was with the hoes. And what I heard three 2s make a 6." Walsh said making Chris laugh.
"Just hit this mayne." Walsh handed me a blunt.
"How am I disrespecting her. She told me so many stories of shit that happened her with other artist."
"You took a L. Hit this L. Get over it." Chris said. I took a hit.
"Let me talk to her. I'm her favorite. We'll get the song back." Chris said.
"Good luck with that."

Niema's POV

Ugh, I hate dress fittings. Especially with Billionaire Boy. Don't get me wrong I like nice things. But not so in depth to it like Pharrell.
"So I'm shopping for my Grammy dress... with my brother. I feel like his fucking art project." I complained to snapchat. My snap is private. Along with all my social media. I usually check Wes' stories everyday since they're entertaining, but I've taken a break.
"One look won't hurt." I pressed his circle. One was a photo of a pen and pad of paper captioned "writing process" next was him singing along to These Hoes Ain't Loyal. I pressed the home button on my phone.
"Asshole." I threw on my clothes and left out the dressing room.
"Niema, what's wrong?" Pharrell asked getting up following behind me.
"I'm done. Don't feel like doing this shit." He grabbed my arm.
"The Grammys are in 3 weeks. You need a dress. You need to still pick a presenter."
"I don't feel like dealing this today!"
"Is this about Wesley?"
"No."
"It is though. Chris told me y'all got beef over a song. Thought that's your best friend."
"It's not that."
"Then pick out a damn dress." I sighed and went back into the showroom.
I ended up going with a blue Versace gown. After I went to get some Café Rio and headed home. There's a bum at my doorstep. A bum with flowers.
"Leave Thomas." He stood up.
"I am sorry for everything that happened in New York. I apologize for getting a attitude about the song." He handed me a bunch of... I don't know what kind of flowers.
"You just want the song." He hugged me.
"No, I want my friend back. I have no one to text my random thoughts to. No one to snap. I'm not letting go until you hug me back."
"You told me to stop hating on you."
"I was drunk. I'm sorry. Forgive me. Purdy please." He hugged tighter. I pushed him away.
"Was you talking about me on snap? I'm not loyal? As many fucking songs and artist have I given to you? I tell artist about how good you are. Got me so fucked up. You're fucking 35 but you act like a teenager."
"Ema, I was slippin' it sucks when your best friend is mad at you."
"Am I your best friend? Like you came at me like I'm barely a friend." I'm gonna make him feel bad.
"Like you really fucked up my day. I know I shouldn't have looked at your snap, but I did. I'm trying to get my dress and heels for the Grammys. And I didn't even do anything for you to get mad. I told you we can reschedule and you still disrespect me. You wanna be on your fuck boy shit. If you want the song that bad you can have it."
"Niema Williams. I, Wesley Pentz, feel like shit for disrespecting you. I do not want to lose our friendship over some groupies and scheduling issues. I swear this will never ever happen again. I am sorry." I sighed.
"I forgive you and your white boy recklessness."
"Not until we hug." He opened his arms.
"Boy bye this ain't Full House." He hugged me anyway. He's a ass but a as that gives great hugs. A van pulled up in front of my house.
"The crew is here." Wes said letting me go.
"What crew?"
"The Grammys are interviewing me here." I scrunched my face.
"Your backyard is dope. I need that as my back drop." Fucking film students.
"What if I didn't forgive you?" He kissed my head.
"But you did. But you did."