Plane Crash

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Subtitle: Bick Dick Energy

Scarlett rolled out of the Alaskan king-sized bed and blinked her eyes. She wipes the sleep out of her eyes and walks to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. A loud yawn caught her off guard as she observed her body in the full-length mirror. A hard blush graced her face.

Then she showers and stops to admire her artwork. Royce hadn't moved a muscle. Knock that ass out like fight night, she smirks. She finds some more throw away gym clothes of his and headed down the stairs.

"Good morning." A small woman sat in the kitchen. She didn't look anything like his personal chef. And looked very comfortable in the scene in front of them.

"Oh, hello." Scarlett is surprised and looked down at herself. "I-"

"A guest of my grandson. Nana Elle, nice to meet you." She extends a hand to the woman. Scarlett received nervously.

"I don't normally look like this." Her face is burning crimson. Breakfast is served to the pair.

"Neither do I." she stands to show off her regular appearance. "I love your energy but you're holding on to something." Brielle decides to not waste any more time. Her eyes change colors.

"Ma'am?"

"You can't move forward with new energy until you let go of other energy. It's not a negative thing in my eyes but at the same time, it's holding you back..." then they switch back to their original color. "Good morning, grandson." Her smile is bright.

"Nana!"

"Boy shut up. I just spent the last week up at Stone's house, so I had to check on my other grandsons too." she explains, in reference to him and Greyson. "Join us for breakfast."

"You could've called...or something." Royce slowly freaks out.

"No need. I'm surrounded by family if all goes well. Wouldn't you say, Scarlett?" her eyes switch just for a second.

"Uh I guess so." Her face hadn't returned to its natural color yet. She swallows the food nearly whole and disappears from the room.

Back in the bedroom, she finally turns her phone on. Emails kept coming in. Some for work but majority of the almost 5,000 emails came from interview requests.

Text messages came from her mother, Mari and some clients encouraging her. Apparently even in her silence, people still wanted more and more of her. The enigma that kept them coming back for more.

"The inevitable." Royce leaned against his dresser to watch her. "You gotta deal with it one day, Scarlett."

"This is so much. 20,000 emails? Modeling requests, interview requests, information for potential clients. What the fuck is going on?"

"I would say you deserve it, but do you believe you deserve it?"

"German shepherd, I'm just doing my job. It's not about what I deserve at this point. And your grandmother is...different."

"We'll talk about that later. She's gone now though. Narrow down who wants to hear your story and who's just looking for a story and go from there."

She continues to watch her phone blow up. "What would you do?"

"One or two really meaningful interviews. One televised and one magazine related and let that be it. Go back to work. Like you said, it's just your job." He crosses the room to hold her.

"If that's the case I need to leave now." The regret of the words engulfed her as soon as they left her lips.

"No you don't." he holds her closer. Closing her in. Scarlett started pushing him away.

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