Doing My Own Thing (16 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: Doing My Own Thing
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22
“W
e're about to go on a tour of Harrison's Cave,” I say to the cameras in my confessional. “It sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Is everyone going?” the producer asks.
I know he's asking, in a roundabout way, if Dreya is going on the cave adventure with us. I haven't even asked her, to be honest, and it doesn't have anything to do with Bethany or Truth. Dreya is not a nature girl at all. She is in no way, shape, or form in touch with anything outdoors.
“Have you met Dreya?” I ask. Immediately I regret this sound bite, because I know they can use this whenever they please, and completely out of context.
“Everyone is not going,” I continue. “Dreya doesn't do caves, and Dilly is still under the weather. The only ones going are me, Sam, Mystique, and Zac.”
The producer motions to the cameraman to stop shooting. I guess I'm too boring for him this afternoon. Whatever.
I leave the hotel room and meet up with Sam, Mystique, and Zac outside of Zac's villa. I laugh out loud when I see Mystique's shoes. They are some kind of designer, ten-inch, heels.
“What are you tripping on?” Sam asks.
I point at the shoes. “Mystique, you do know we're going to a
cave
right?”
“Yes.” She looks down at her feet. “What's wrong with my shoes? They have a tram and an elevator.”
“But once you get inside the cave, you have to walk on some pretty uneven surfaces,” I reply.
“Well, I'll just skip that part.”
Zac says, “Babe, maybe you want to put on some sneakers. The best part of the cave is the walking part. You won't be able to see anything good with those heels on.”
Mystique sighs and motions for me to follow her back into the villa. She goes straight to one of her gigantic trunks and pulls out two pairs of sneakers.
“Which pair?” she asks.
“Either, I guess. They both match.”
Mystique shakes her head and says, “How can they both match? One is white and the other is black. One has to be better than the other.”
“It's not like this is a red-carpet affair. We're going to a cave.”
“You've never had your fashion choices ripped apart by a blogger, so you don't understand. Once, I was on my way to Target, and I was wearing a cute jogging suit with my favorite workout sneakers. They called my look ‘hobo chic.' ”
I cover my mouth to hold in my giggle. “How do you know that wasn't a compliment?”
“It was Sandra Rose.”
I can't help it now, the giggles just tumble out. “Sandra Rose is funny. You shouldn't take that stuff so seriously. I think some of the bloggers post that kind of stuff just so people will click on their page, and they can get advertising money.”
“It was mean,” Mystique says. “And now, I can't go out without wondering what she's going to put in her blog about me.”
“So why don't you do your own blog? Get the bloggers back?” I ask.
“Because it's so much easier to pretend to rise above it. You can't win a fight with someone who throws rocks and then hides behind their laptop.”
I point at the black shoes. “Those match the best.”
She's wearing black shorts and a silver baby tee. She looks glamorous in everything she puts on, which is why I'm totally surprised that she cares what the bloggers have to say. She could wear a plastic bag and flip-flops and still look hot.
“Come on, girl, before Zac starts fussing about me taking too long.”
As we hurry back to the guys, I think about how normal Zac and Mystique are in their relationship. I mean they are both multi-platinum multimillionaires and they have the most regular conversations and disagreements.
I wonder if Sam and I will have the same kind of relationship.
But Sam and I are kind of lopsided, or unevenly yoked as my mother would call it. I'm blowing up and he's still on the come up.
When we get back to the guys, there is a car waiting for us. A normal car. Not a limo or some kind of luxury sedan. This is out of the ordinary for Zac and Mystique. They always travel in excessive luxury. The BET cameraman is going to have to follow in another car, because there's barely enough room in this little hatchback for the four of us.
“What's going on with Truth and Drama?” Mystique asks as we squeeze into the backseat. Zac sits in the front, and I'm sandwiched between Mystique and Sam.
“I don't know. Their typical stuff, I guess. She's jealous beyond reason and he just does stuff to make her even more jealous.”
“Enough about those two,” Zac says. “I've got some better news.”
“What is it?” Mystique asks.
“It's not for you babe, it's for Sam.”
Sam perks up and cheeses. “What's popping?”
“Well, I've been listening to the music you and Sunday put together for Bethany and Drama, and the tracks you did for Truth's album. You are too talented to be wasting away in Big D's basement.”
Sam swallows hard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you should be working for me, for my label. With a real budget, real equipment, and real perks. You shouldn't be a roadie on tour, man. You're a producer.”
Sam says, “Big D has been good to me, don't get it twisted.”
“See, Mystique. That's what I'm talking about,” Zac says. “Loyalty. People are loyal to you when you treat them well. It's a lesson Drama should learn.”
I hear what Zac is saying, but I can't believe my ears. Is he actually offering Sam a job and is Sam turning it down to stay with Big D?
“But anyway,” Zac says, “I'm not saying anything bad about Big D. He's given you a start in the industry. He's groomed you for bigger and better things. He would think you were crazy to turn down this opportunity.”
“What exactly is the opportunity?” Sam asks. “You haven't actually said it yet.”
“I want you to come work for me at my New York office. You'd split time between NYC and ATL, but the bulk of my new talent is in New York.”
Hold up and wait a minute! Sam and I are just now getting the boyfriend/girlfriend swag on lock, and here comes Zac messing up our flow.
“I gave Zac some of Sam's tracks,” Mystique says. “And he is completely blown away.”
“Sam is supposed to be going to Georgia Tech in the fall,” I say.
Sam gives me a look that I can't decipher. It's not angry, but maybe it's hurt. Yeah, that's it. He looks like I just pinched him or something.
“School can wait if I'm going to get a chance to work on some multimillion-dollar projects,” Sam says. “But I need to talk to Big D and see how he feels about it. He's never steered me wrong before.”
“That's fair enough, and I like that you respect that relationship enough to not burn any bridges. You're smart, Sam, and I think you'll go far in the industry with that attitude.”
Who cares how far he goes in the industry? If he's in New York City, how in the world is he supposed to be my college boyfriend?
I don't say anything else for the remainder of the thirty-minute drive to Harrison's Cave. The drive is scenic enough that I can just pretend to be taking in the sights. But really, I'm in trip-out mode and I'm torn. I want Sam to get his big break, don't get me wrong. I just don't want it to take him away from me.
When we get to the cave, the first thing we do is sit for a while in the Visitor Reception Center. There is a cruise ship coming in and they don't want to start the tour without them.
As we're sitting on a bench in the middle of the room, Mystique says, “Could we be any more on display than this? I'm not feeling this, Zac. And we're taking the tour with a whole cruise ship full of people?”
“It could be a bunch of old people who don't even recognize you,” I say.
Zac says, “Or it could be your fans, which would be even better. Imagine how much a fan would love to say they went on a tour of Harrison's Cave with Mystique.”
When this doesn't seem to appease Mystique, Zac says, “Okay, I'll see if we can go ahead and start the tour.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Mystique frowns and folds her arms across her chest. I think she's just mad that the staff at the cave didn't do anything special or roll out the red carpet for her. Mystique arrived on the scene and it was just business as usual.
Actually, now that I think about it, it's kind of funny!
What's not funny is the scowl on Sam's face. I know he means it for me too, because he keeps tossing it over in my direction. I also know it has something to do with his offer from Zac, but I'm not about to ask him. Not while he's looking like that, and not when an argument is looming over our new romance like a storm cloud.
Zac walks back up with one of the cave employees. It looks like a manager.
“Ms. Mystique, please accept our apologies. The workers simply did not recognize you, but we would love to allow you and your party access to the cave in a private viewing.”
Mystique's frown melts away and she becomes that syrupy sweet, loving, and humble pop star again.
“It's really not a problem,” she says. “We wouldn't want to trouble you at all. Is it too much trouble?”
“No! Not at all. I would love to be your own personal tour guide. We love your music in Barbados.”
Mystique smiles as she stands to her feet. I almost burst into laughter when she gives the manager a little handshake and hug like she's the Queen of England. I can tell Sam is trying not to laugh too. Zac grins and rolls his eyes as the clearly enamored manager locks arms with Mystique and leads her to the glass elevator that descends to the caves.
I jab Sam in the ribs as we follow the group. “What's up, Sam? Why you looking all twisted?”
He shrugs, but doesn't reply. Hmmm . . . it's worse than I thought.
As we ride down from the cliff to the bottom of the valley, we listen to the chirpy manager give much history about the cave. Typically, I like listening to this type of scientific stuff, but I can't do anything but focus on Sam's deepened frown.
After the elevator ride, we're led to a tram that looks like a miniature version of one of the roller-coaster rides at Six Flags.
I slide in next to Sam, and he folds his arms against his chest and tightens his lips.
I ask, “Are you going to keep looking crazy, or are you going to tell me what's on your mind? I'm not a mind reader, you know.”
Sam ignores me and locks his seat belt. I cannot believe he's just ignoring my questions like I haven't said anything.
The tram ride is forty minutes long, and Sam sits here and gives me the silent treatment for the entire forty minutes. Finally, it's over and we're in the heart of the cave, underground, with beauty all around us. We get out of the tram so that we can explore.
Sam tries to march away from me, but I meet him step for step. I follow him to a far corner of the cave where the stalactites jut out from the ceiling like limestone icicles. For a moment, I'm so caught up in the beauty of the cave that I forget about Sam's foul mood.
“Isn't this beautiful?” I ask. “I've never seen anything like this in my life.”
He spins around and says, “Sunday, I'm angry because you weren't happy for me when Zac offered me the job. There. Now leave me alone so I can get my head right. Go explore the cave with Mystique.”
“No. Not before I say that you're right.”
“Huh?”
“I wasn't happy when I first heard it, because all I could think about was us being separated.”
Sam's nose flares. “I would've been happy for you, Sunday. I've been happy for you with every new thing that's come your way.”
I take one of Sam's hands in mine, and I feel him relax. “I know, I know. I am glad for you now, though, and I think Big D will be too.”
“I don't know about Big D, Sunday. I really need you to have my back, because I don't think he's gonna want to lose me. He doesn't have another producer and Epsilon is snatching up his best artists.”
“So he can just do what he does best, right? Develop new talent.”
“But Big D has always wanted to blow up too. I wish Epsilon Records would give him some kind of honorary executive gig with a big office and a window.”
“You think that maybe we can make that happen?” I ask. “I mean, Big D is my manager. He's always gonna be in my camp. He's got my back, and I trust him.”

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