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( CHAPTER THIRTEEN: DRUNK RAMBLINGS ) April, 1990
❝ You're more than good enough, you're a queen Janet. ❞
◯
One thing was for sure, Devon Emmet was never going clubbing with TJ ever again. He should've known that TJ's definition of fun was spending the rest of the night in cold hard oblivion, the two being too hammered and drunk to remember what eventful things took place. However, once Devon woke up half-naked in the community pool, he didn't want to find out. His early flight the very next morning didn't help either, since the blazing sun rays and the loud New York streets only worsened his hungover condition.
However, he didn't have much to complain about once his drunken state passed and his broken memory returned. And once he bid another farewell to his emotional family, Devon and the rest of the crew continued to embark on the next cities of the tour, with Devon now conditioned to early morning flights and the strange plane food. However, despite his newfound comfort with the tour and his adamant love for his dance mates, Devon could feel that something was wrong.
Not with him, however, with Janet. As soon as they left New York, something about her felt detached. Her eyes were more sunken than usual, and she was much more quiet, only ever muttering things and showing up if the time calls for it. And despite Devon performing an intimate duet with her every night, he could feel her heart wasn't in it, even if she was trying her best not to show any emotions. It wasn't until they landed in Houston in mid April that the tension was finally addressed. Devon didn't have any plans once they finished the show, since he was expecting to spend another lonely night locked up in his hotel room.
However, Jimmy made his way over to Devon once they were backstage in the dressing room, with Devon struggling to take off the buckled costume that was clinging to his chocolate skin. "Hey Dev," Jimmy said, causing for the said man to glance his way, "You ready to go to the afterparty tonight?" He asked, a devilish grin sliding across his face as Devon pried his attention away from his mangled outfit.
"Remember the last time we went to a club together," Devon grumbled, his fingers latching out his zipper as he shrugged his taut jacket off. "Come on man, it ain't gonna be like that," Jimmy said, "We'll be in the VIP section." Despite Jimmy's promising words, the young man never budged, continuing to wriggle out of his costume with the upmost of effort as he ignored his friend's proposal. Jimmy frowned in disappointment, his wide mouth straightening in dismay as he wondered what could catch Devon's attention.
For one, he was not a wild guy, and actually preferred some peace and quiet when he was not practicing or performing dance routines each night. It surprised Jimmy to say the least, since Devon was normally such a magnetic presence to be around, but in all honesty, the young man was a simple, quiet person who never went out looking for trouble. Devon stated that he used to be a lot more outgoing when in was in Harlem, but the physically demanding tour schedule was quickly draining his energy.
