Heal Me, Love Me

13 - PAPA-razzi

Thousands of shuttering lights flew in Bronze's direction as he walked upstage toward the press conference table. He purposely shut out the muttering of the reporters. Their voices hummed in the room, growing more distinctive against the clacking sounds of the light shudders. Mr. Cosine had shook hands with all the high-end reporters, a painted smile that was practiced to perfection over several decades. Bronze focused on remembering every question they rehearsed. He knew the majority Cosine had selected for approval. Yet, whatever move Cosine was plotting, he had yet to discover for himself.  The closer the court date approached, the more ambivalent he felt about revealing his relation to Zion or Caitlin.

Taking a deep breath, his shoulders stiff with worry, he moved at a sure pace, approaching the long table. It was cloaked with advertisements and his face plastered over the black tablecloth. Right before he reached the corner, a hand grabbed his arm. He looked back and met the gaze of Cosine's wife Alani Simmons. His stomach clenched unwillingly. She batted her eyelash extensions in his direction and swung her hair extensions behind shoulders. Her smile perfectly quartered to her dimples. She was a small woman with an hourglass figure and a set of fake teeth. Everything about her appearance focused on seducing a man to insanity. Yet, her personality didn't quite match her facade. 

"Do you need a bucket? You look a bit nauseous," she said, toying with the front of his hair like a little child. Bronze seized her hand and thrust it back in a whiplash. His eyes burned a glare in her direction. Alani giggled lightly, or forcefully, Bronze could never tell the difference. "How unlike you." She flashed her set of pearly whites. "This is about her, isn't it? Who knew the despicable Bronze was afraid of a woman?"

"I'm more afraid of you," he said. To muster the confidence he held onto, he worked harder to attain it in place. Caitlin would be following his every move, whether on the radio, appearances, every step like a personal FBI agent. He had something to prove. 

"Oh please." Alani sucked her teeth, followed by an eye roll. "What could she possibly do to you?"

Bronze raised his eyebrow. "Did I struck a nerve?"

"Do not taunt him, Alani," Mr. Cosine said, his voice hidden behind a crowd of security.  He tapped his cane on the floor and the security stepped sideways to leave an entryway. "We wouldn't want another useless rumor to surface."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Alani said, through her teeth. She leaned into Bronze's ear, whispered lowly, "I have a surprise for you tonight."

 Mr. Cosine cleared his throat. "The press conference is about to begin. On stage, Bronze. Just like we rehearse."

"Yes, sir."

In the hotel room, Bronze stood by the long, glass window draped with red, thick curtains. He gazed at the city, which had finally lit with street lights. The night life emerged, welcomed by its natives, and the buildings lights glowed like Christmas lights. Behind him, seated in the center living room, his team members discussed in exuberant tones about the press conference. The white sofas were occupied by red bedazzled pillows and fan gift baskets that were packed with Bronze's favorites, or the ones the company appointed him. At least he wasn't allergic to any of the products. In the center of the sofas was a matching white coffee table with a vase of dozen roses. 

"Perhaps we should get Bronze an acting career," Alani said, sipping a glass of red wine. 

Bronze flashed her a glare through the reflection of the windows. She smiled back and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Tears were literally escaping my eyes," Sin remarked. 

One of them cleared their throats--Marc. Marc mimicked Bronze, "This is for him, my son. I love you, already. Oh! I got chills."