everything's gonna be alright.

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Those words slit through her chest like knives. The newspaper headlines were now talking live in action. Everything replayed in her mind overcrowding her ability to ignore the hate. Tears brimmed at her eyes as everything seemed to go silent in her head, with just the faint cussing that August made at the reporter as she jerked them around to Stormi's dressing room.

"What did I do?" Stormi questioned over and over again. "I don't understand why are they treating me like this?"

"Storm, don't pay attention to them." August whispered, reaching for Stormi's arm only resulting in her snatching away completely ignoring her attempts to calm her down. "Everyone says that like it's easy. It's not." Stormi screamed.

"Hey, Hey! I know. Listen I'm going to go to Deven and take care of the that. Will you be okay?" Stormi waved her hand infront of face, dismissing her friend. There she was again alone in her dressing room, only wishing her mother was here to comfort her or walk her through how to deal with the media.

As she looked up from the tile floors, her eyes met with a tall shirtless figure with a pair of dark black shades. "What do you want—save the sympathy, I'm tired of hearing it."

"I ain't come to butter you up. Just checkin' on you, I know these past months ain't been easy on you." There it was, that congested nasally voice of DeVante Swing. He was quiet mysterious young man who genuinely cared about the people around him. Stormi was one of them, since the day he'd met her at the Uptown Records Headquarters he felt a specific admiration for her. He couldn't act on his feelings though since at the time she was in a relationship with none other than her good friend, Michael Jackson.

"Well . . You checked, now leave."

DeVante's dark eyebrows furrow causing his face to turn into a frown. "I don't understand exactly what's going on with you and the public, but this isn't you."

"Isn't me? You don't even know me." She hissed.

"You really gonna be like that? C'mon we spent half a year creating you're album." He corrected.

"Whatever! Are you done? You don't know me by a long shot. What's going on in the media is not normal. I'm tired. I'm really tired." She weeped, breaking down right there in the moments DeVante stepped closer to her at sending figure, embracing her in a tight hug.

"Fuck all the bullshit. You're not non of that shit they publish. You're a good person and An incredible artist, let this motivate you to be better and push through."

No response, Stormi just let the wall she build fall down for a few moments. "I'm sorry for yelling out you."

"I'm ain't trippin." DeVante reassure breaking their embrace. "Aye, tomorrow I'mma be at 26. Stop by Stormi, I mean it." And with that he was out of the door.

Although she had a moment of breaking from the stress, it wasn't over. Nor was her past trauma, Stormi was a talented individual with a lot of baggage. And I think we all know that when you're famous, everything is available to you and Stormi totally took advantage of that.












MY NOTE!
--
gif credits to the
righteous owner!
- dalvante

𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊,           devanté swing.¹Where stories live. Discover now