Get Over It (8 page)

O
ne of the most annoying parts of being a pop singer is the incessant amount of photo shoots required. I'm doing a spread today for
Teen Vogue
. It has something to do with spring hair and makeup. So I've got in a weave that's dang near to the middle of my back, those stupid caterpillar mink eyelashes, and a butt load of makeup.

Kevin sits on a stool next to me handing me a bottle of water to carefully sip so that I don't mess up my lipstick. He doesn't complain once or even look like he's irritated. He is the best assistant on the planet, nothing like I was when I had to assist Dreya for that brief moment.

“Bethany is over there about to have a meltdown,” Kevin says.

“Really? What do you mean? What is she doing?”

“She keeps arguing with Jacinto, the photographer. He told her that her eyes look bloodshot, and he asked her if she smoked weed before she came to the shoot. She's fussing at him and screaming that she didn't.”

I burst into laughter. I want to cry laughing, but if I mess up this mascara, I know the makeup artist will go bananas. Bethany probably was smoking weed, because she does it every morning. I keep telling her that it's not good for her looks, but she doesn't seem to care.

“I'm glad you think it's funny. She's gonna have us up here all day,” Kevin says.

“Okay, I'm not in the mood for that. She needs to pull herself together, 'cause I've got other stuff to do.”

“Like what?”

“I'm supposed to be going with Mystique to the day spa, and then DeShawn wants to go to a couple of clubs.”

“Clubbing? That's not all that fun. I don't see why y'all like that so much.”

“Well, when I go we always get in free and we get to hang out in the VIP section.”

“Whoop de do!” Kevin says. “I'd rather stay home and watch movies. I guess I'm not about that celebrity life.”

“Well, neither is DeShawn. He's not a celebrity!”

“If he hangs with you long enough, maybe he will be,” Kevin replies.

Something about that bothers me, but I can't put my finger on it. I know DeShawn likes the fame more than the rest of my friends, but does he like the fame more than he likes me?

“Did you talk to Gia about Rashad?” Kevin asks.

“Yes, and I don't think Ricky needs to worry. It seems like the novelty of Rashad and his poetry is wearing off. She doesn't seem all that impressed with him anymore.”

“Well, good. She better let Ricky know, because those Georgia State girls are circling like buzzards.”

“And what does Ricky say about that?”

“He'll take a number every now and then, because he doesn't want people to think he's gay.”

“Who would think that?”

“I don't know. People say that about me until they find out I'm in seminary school.”

“Is there anyone you like? Hope?”

Kevin makes a vomit face. “Hope! Are you kidding? She's like a sister. She and Gia feel like family members.”

“Okay, so not Hope. Anybody else?”

“I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh.”

“I promise!”

“I'm really kind of digging Piper, but I don't think she'll ever talk to me.”

“You like Piper? But you two are so different.”

Kevin sighs. “She accepts me for who I am. And I like that she's quirky and vulnerable sometimes.”

“Do you want me to say something to her? I mean, I can hook you up if you want.”

“No, not at all. Girls don't like guys who need to be hooked up. I'll say something to her soon. I mean, we've got four years of college, right?”

“You should make your move, Kev! Don't wait around for some other dude to come in and snatch her. Don't let another dude take your girl!”

“Well, if another dude can take her, then she wasn't the one for me.”

“Kevin, that sounds totally stupid. If she has no idea you like her, then how can she ever be the one? You should tell her. Ask her out on a date.”

“I will when I'm ready, Sunday,” Kevin says. “Don't push me.”

“I won't push you. I'll put you on my prayer list.”

Kevin says, “You're playing, but that's probably the only way I'll get Piper. You better have a pretty strong prayer list. Maybe you could tell your mother about it. She seems more of a prayer warrior than you.”

“Um, she is definitely a prayer warrior, but I don't know if she knows that much about praying for romance. She's never been quite successful in that area herself, you know?”

Kevin glances at the entrance to the studio where I'm shooting and stands to his feet as Mystique walks in. I should say glides in, because she looks like she's on a runway. Well, if it was a fashion show for pregnant women, because Mystique is starting to show. Her little baby bump is barely there, but it is visible, and she definitely has that pregnant woman glow.

She hasn't been in Atlanta for a couple weeks, so we're supposed to be getting massages and pedicures at this ultra-chic day spa to catch up. Her idea of catching up is grilling me for information about Dreya and Evan.

“Hello, gorgeous,” she says. “Your makeup looks hot!”

She air kisses me and then Kevin. He offers her his stool and she sits down.

“Have they started photographing you yet?”

“Yes, this is my third look. After they finish with Bethany, I'll do my last set of photos.”

“Bethany is here too? Why are you sharing a spread with her?”

“They asked Big D for both of us.”

“That's right, he's both your manager. How's that work with Evan and all? He practically hates Big D's guts right now.”

I shrug. “It's okay for now. Evan should've known that Big D wouldn't bow down and kiss his ring. He's too much of a leader for that.”

“Yeah. I've heard some of Dilly's music and it's fantastic.”

“I know! Sam let me hear some of the tracks. It's gonna be a hit.”

“Did you know he signed Truth too?”

My jaw drops. “Truth? I thought he was with some bootleg label.”

“Apparently the bootleg label went under, and Big D scooped him right on up.”

I wonder if Dreya knows about this. She would probably freak out on the spot if she heard. I think she wants that entire chapter with her and Truth to just be erased. I don't blame her.

Mystique says, “Truth came to Zac and apologized for everything that went down in Barbados.”

Truth and Dreya got into a huge fight when we were in Barbados shooting a video for my song, and Zac put the smack down on him. I thought it was going to blow up into a full-fledged war when we got back to the States, but Truth took his lumps like a man and went on about his business.

“Get the heck out of Dodge! He
apologized
for hitting Dreya?”

“He sure did. He said Zac gave him a wake-up call.”

“So are they cool?”

“Yep, Zac is working on music for his record too.”

Mystique sounds just a little too gleeful about that. I think she knows that if Evan found out it would make him go bananas, and the idea of Evan being mad probably makes her smile.

“You and Sam did a good job on Drama's record. She actually sounds like a real artist on there.”

“Don't do that, Mystique.”

“Oh, right. The cousin bond.”

“Yes, the cousin bond.”

“How's her pregnancy going?”

I look at Mystique and lift an eyebrow. “Do you really care?”

“I do! I'm hungry all the time for foods that I have no business eating. Foods you like to eat all the time.”

“So we're going to Busy Bee later?”

“No! I can't gain a hundred pounds with this baby. I've got to be careful.”

“My mom told Dreya that this is the time she should let herself enjoy food. Maybe you should do the same thing.”

“Dreya can turn into a big blimp if she wants to, but it'll be just that much harder for her to keep her record deal.”

As if
she
cares about that!

Bethany storms over to where we're sitting. Jacinto looks like he's got her all the way stressed out.

“Is this photo shoot over yet?” she asks. “That fool is getting on my nerves.”

“You shouldn't let yourself fly into rages in the middle of a photo shoot,” Mystique says. “The photographer could leave you in a most unflattering pose.”

“At this point, I really don't care. I am just sick of him, and I'm sick of this,” Bethany says. “I never wanted to be a model.”

“Well, then you're not trying to make all the money you can make,” Mystique says. “Just some advice, honey. Make all the money you can. You never know when your time is up in this business.”

Bethany snatches her purse and heads toward the bathroom. “Let me know when he's ready for me, will you, Sunday? I'm tired. I need a pick-me-up.”

“What kind of pick-me-up?” Kevin asks.

“Don't do that, Kevin. You're Sunday's assistant, that's all. Stay out of my business.”

“Ouch!” Mystique says as Bethany stumbles away in the incredibly high heels that Jacinto has us wearing for this photo shoot.

“Well, I am just Sunday's assistant. I really don't know Bethany very much,” Kevin says. “I shouldn't have intruded.”

Mystique laughs out loud. “Where'd you find him? I've never met an assistant who's this professional. Can I hire you away from Sunday?”

“I'm afraid not. She's my landlord too,” Kevin says. “So, I'm pretty loyal to her if you know what I mean.”

Mystique says, “I know exactly what you mean. Sunday inspires loyalty in all of her friends, except Sam. He's not loyal all the time.”

Kevin looks at me, probably not sure how to respond to Mystique's comments. “I can't speak for anyone other than myself,” he says.

Jacinto walks over to us and kisses Mystique on the cheek. “Hello, beautiful. When are you going to be in front of my lens again?”

“Whenever you set it up, sweetie!”

“I'd love to do a pregnancy shoot with you and that Neanderthal husband of yours.”

Mystique says, “He's not a Neanderthal! He's just a rich thug.”

“There's no difference between the two.”

“I guess you're right,” Mystique says. “Your makeup artist has Sunday looking fantastic.”

“Even though she didn't want to put on the eyelashes. She always fights me on the makeup.”

I say, “I always fight everyone on the eye caterpillars. I don't see why they're necessary anyway.”

“They make your eyes pop, sweetie! And we need your eyes to pop!” Jacinto says.

There is something violent about the way he keeps saying “pop” like it's some action that an eye normally does. The only time people's eyes pop is when there's some sort of electric shock current running through the body or some other crazy trauma. Eyes popping is not a normal thing.

“Even if she complains, make sure you get her right,” Mystique says. “My protégée can't be in a magazine looking all amateurish. You've got to look like you're at the top of your game.”

“I am at the top of my game. Eye caterpillars or not,” I say.

Suddenly, there is a crashing noise coming from the bathroom area. Kevin rushes in that direction. “Bethany, are you okay?”

Kevin knocks on the bathroom door and says, “Bethany, it's me, Kevin. Please open the door and let us know you're okay. We heard noises coming from there.”

I rush over with Mystique and Jacinto following farther behind. Now, there's a thump, like Bethany or something else has fallen to the floor.

“Kevin, kick the door open.”

“She might not be decent!” Kevin says.

I push past him and ram into the door with my shoulder. It opens easily, because Bethany hasn't locked it. Once inside, I scream.

“Call 9-1-1! She's unconscious!”

Kevin dials as I try to wake her up. “She's breathing, but barely.”

“What did she take?” Mystique asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You know what I mean!” Mystique says. “She's a user, Sunday! So what drug did she take?”

I scan the room looking for whatever Bethany could've used to get high. Then I see the bottle of pills. It has rolled under the sink. I take it out and notice that the bottle is about halfway used.

“What's it a prescription for?” Mystique asks. “I bet it's for Hydrocodone or something like that.”

“I-it's for Ritalin.”

“The drug they give to the kids with ADHD?” Kevin asks.

“Yes! I didn't know people were getting high with these.”

Mystique reaches over and snatches the pill bottle from me. “That's what the label is, but these are not Ritalin.”

“Well, what are they?”

“Capsules full of Molly.”

The ambulance sirens whine in the background as I try to make Bethany comfortable.

“Does she need mouth-to-mouth?” Jacinto asks.

“She's breathing, but she won't wake up. Is she overdosing?”

Mystique shakes her head. “Probably just a bad batch. She'll probably be all right in a little bit. It's kind of like being passed-out drunk.”

Kevin opens the door for the paramedics, and they start to give Bethany oxygen. Then, they lift her onto a stretcher. It's a shame she's still in the makeup from the photo shoot, because she looks a wretched mess.