On the Flip Side (10 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: On the Flip Side
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14
M
s. Layla, Mystique's mother and fashion designer, has brought an entire collection of dresses to Zac's house for Mystique, Dreya, and I to try on for our red-carpet gowns. Evan says that we have to use Ms. Layla whether we want to or not, because Epsilon is picking up the tab for this. He's a serious penny pincher, which I don't mind, if the money is passed on to us. If he's just cutting corners to line his own pockets then I have a serious issue with his thriftiness.
“Drama and Sunday, I think you each need at least three looks,” Ms. Layla says. “Of course your red-carpet look, your award-acceptance look, and your performance look. Each of these three will have different hair and makeup to accompany them.”
“Mom, did you interview the makeup artists?”
“Yes, we found a perfect one. She did Toni Braxton's last tour. She's incredible.”
“What about Regina?” I ask. “She's the only one who's ever done my makeup.”
Ms. Layla and Mystique look at one another, but Mystique answers. “We had to fire Regina.”
“What?” I ask. “Why?”
Mystique clears her throat and strides across the room to look at some of the dresses. “Some things came to my attention about Regina. She was spreading some untruths about me and Zac. I can't have someone like that in my circle. She had to go.”
Dreya laughs out loud. “Dang, Mystique be putting chicks out! Fired her? What did she say about you that was
that
bad? I mean, y'all corny as what anyway.”
“That's not important,” Mystique says. “What's important is that she betrayed my trust. I let her into my inner circle and she abused that right.”
“What is this? The mob?” Dreya asks. “You gangsta like a big dawg!”
“I protect mine, and I handle business when necessary,” Mystique says. “Nothing gangsta about that.”
I don't say anything about the firing. I'm wondering if anyone told Mystique about what Regina said to me. There was no one there but us, and I know that I didn't say anything. Maybe it wasn't the only thing Regina was talking greasy about.
“Well, can someone communicate to the new makeup artist that I do not and will not do fake eyelashes?” I say.
“You ain't gonna take up for your girl, Regina?” Dreya asks. “That's your homegirl, right?”
I shrug. “I'm sure that Mystique had a good reason to fire her. I'm not going to question that right now.”
“So, Sunday,” Ms. Layla says. “I love your skin tone in warm colors. Fall is your season. How about this copper tube dress for the red carpet?”
I look at the tiny piece of material that Ms. Layla holds up. “That's a dress? Where is the rest of it?” I ask.
“It stretches, honey. Try it on.”
I snatch off my jeans and T-shirt and pull the little sliver of material over my underwear. It's a good thing that I'm naturally thin, because this dress doesn't hide a dang thing. It clings to my stomach like a piece of Saran wrap on a hunk of meat.
“That's hot,” Dreya says.
I disagree. “Ms. Layla. I'm not feeling this. I need something with a little more ... coverage.”
Ms. Layla chuckles. “When I was your age, I was the same way. Always covering up. Now I wish I had that body!”
Dreya says, “I want a tiny dress just like that, but not that color. I only want to cover up the vital parts.”
“I've got the perfect outfit for you, Drama.”
Ms. Layla pulls a red and black skintight halter dress from the rack. Dreya claps her hands and squeals.
“That's what I'm talking about!” Dreya says. “That's what's up!”
“We're gonna get you some black fishnet stockings and leather booties. Your long legs are going to look divine.”
“What about my hair? How will I wear my hair with this?”
Mystique says, “I'm thinking a big, red updo, with curls cascading down in the back.”
“That's hot,” Dreya says. “And of course, I've got to have my red lipstick.”
“Certainly,” Ms. Layla says. “You can't go without that.”
I rifle through the dresses until I find one that I like. It's a cream-colored knee-length satin number. It is perfect for me.
“I like this one,” I say. “I look good in cream.”
Ms. Layla takes the dress from my hands. “Well, honey, Mystique is wearing cream on the red carpet. I want the two of you to be colorful, in case someone tries to photograph all three of you at once.”
Mystique is wearing cream? Why is it that all of a sudden I'm feeling like a second fiddle to Mystique? I never got that vibe until recently. Maybe it's been going on the entire time, and I've just been too giddy about having a record deal to even notice.
“Okay, well, let me keep looking, because that copper thing ain't getting it,” I say.
Finally, I come to another gown that I like. It is a deep orange kimono, with gold and brown writing on it. It's floor length, and completely elegant. Not something I'd wear normally, but definitely something I can rock.
“What about this one?” I ask. “Will it take anything away from Mystique's outfit?”
“What does that mean?” Mystique asks.
“Nothing. I just want to be sure we don't clash. You know. For the pictures.”
Mystique narrows her eyes at me as if trying to read my mind and figure out if I'm innocent, or if there's a deeper meaning to my words. She can squint all day, but I'm going to keep giving her this wide-eyed gaze and silly grin. She'll never be able to figure me out.
“That won't clash at all,” Ms. Layla says. “Actually, it's quite lovely. I'm sure that would be wonderful on you, after a few alterations. I think it was cut to fit Mystique and she's a little bit wider than you in the hip and stomach areas.”
“I am not!” Mystique objects.
It takes everything in me not to burst into laughter, but Dreya doesn't even try to contain herself. She doubles over at the waist and lets the laughs ripple out of her body.
“Your mother called you fat!” Dreya roars.
“No, she didn't!” Mystique yells.
“Don't get mad at me, fatty. You shouldn't have been eating all that steak and lobster with Zac. A moment on the lips, an eternity on the hips!”
“Okay, Drama. That is enough. Mystique, honey, you have one of the best bodies in this industry,” Ms. Layla says. “Women are going into plastic surgeons' offices carrying your picture, saying I want to look like this.”
“Was the picture Photoshopped?” Dreya asks with laughter still pouring out of her.
Mystique jumps up and gets right in Dreya's face. Dreya's laughter stops. Immediately.
“You think that just because you're hooking up with Evan that you can talk to me any kind of way? I will have you dropped from this label so fast your weaved-up little head will spin!”
Screech! What? OMG! I should've known something was going on when Dreya showed up on our Destin trip acting like she was in the know with Evan. Because she really, really was in the know! Shut the front door!
Dreya smiles at Mystique. “I want to see you try, heffa. Evan is on to you. He doesn't like how you try to hold back every new artist. He sees what you're doing. Just like you don't have Bethany here to get a dress for the red carpet. I already texted Evan about that.”
“She doesn't need a red-carpet dress! She's not even nominated for anything.”
Dreya shakes her head. “Evan wants everyone from Reign Records to come up in the spot looking like royalty. That's our calling card.”
“Who do you think you are?” Mystique roars with anger. She sounds like a lioness about to strike that weak little antelope that all the rest of the herd left behind.
“I am Ms. Drama, soon to be the queen of Reign Records. You know what? I don't want to wear any of these tacky creations. What about you, Sunday? Do you want a real designer to create your look? One that's not related to Mystique the hater?”
I don't know why Dreya's trying to rope me into this. I want no part of beef with anyone. Not Mystique and definitely not Evan, since my career, at this point, is in the palm of his hand.
“You know that I don't really give a care about what I wear to an awards show. It makes absolutely no difference.”
Dreya stands and drops Ms. Layla's dress on the floor like a piece of garbage. “I'll see myself out,” she says.
After she slams the door, Mystique says, “She is going to ruin everything we've worked for. Everything.”
“I had no idea she was with him. I feel like I'm totally in the dark. No wonder she got put in my performance at the last minute,” I say. “I really wish you'd said something to me, Mystique.”
“I should've. I'm sorry. I was hoping that he'd dump her and that would be the end of it. Evan uses women like he uses toilet paper, so I thought she'd just be a one and done.”
“Evan is only one third of the Epsilon Records decision-making partners,” Ms. Layla says. “You all just have to make sure that you have Caterina and Lawrence on your side.”
“Caterina will be the hardest to sway,” Mystique says. “She only speaks dollars and cents. If Drama's antics make them money, then she'll be all for whatever she does.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, what about Lawrence?”
“He's dedicated to art. He's the reason we've been able to sign artists like you and Bethany. He hears raw talent like yours and goes bananas. He's about the musical legacy.”
“Then he's our guy. He's the one we want to be in good with.”
Mystique smiles. “I'm already in good with Lawrence. Don't worry. He's the company owner's son, too, so there won't be any getting rid of him by Evan. Evan knows he has to play nice with Lawrence.”
“This is too much! I just want to make music. I don't want to have strategies or plans that include making alliances.”
“Unfortunately, that's how it goes, Sunday. You're going to have to get used to it,” Ms. Layla says.
“I want people to be honest with me. I can take the truth, even if it's crazy. Just give it to me straight.”
Mystique nods. “I will always do that.”
“Then tell me why you fired Regina, and not that cryptic mess you said before. The real reason.”
Mystique moves from the ornate antique chaise, to sit next to me on the couch. “It's like this. Regina talks too much, and not everything she says is true.”
“Specifics, Mystique. You're still talking in riddles.”
“Okay, she told another one of the stylists that Zac set Sam up with that chick at the club that put something in his drink. He had nothing to do with it.”
“Wow!” I reply with fake surprise. “Why would anyone accuse Zac of something like that? I don't even think I'd believe it if I heard it.”
“Well, that's why we fired her. Big D wasn't happy about it, because he was messing with her.”
“Whatever! Get out of here! He's about to marry Shelly.”
I also suspected this about Big D, but I wasn't going to tell Mystique that I'm that perceptive. While she thinks she's filling me in on the scoop, I let her. I just want to see how much she'll spill and if I'll get anything else that I don't already know.
“Now, more than ever before, we've got to make sure our circle is tight. We can't let anyone come between us, Sunday. I have to know that you've got my back, and please know that I've got yours.”
“Sometimes ... I ... never mind.” I start to tell Mystique how I feel she does things to play me out, but then I think better of it.
“You can say anything to me,” Mystique says.
“Well, I just wanted to say that sometimes I can't believe all this is real. I'm still trying to wrap my head around having three number-one hits and an American Music Award nomination. All this extra stuff with my cousin is like so unnecessary.”
“Exactly. You wait until you get your royalty check, Sunday. You are a very wealthy young lady. You'll be able to buy anything you want. You can actually buy whatever you want now. Epsilon will give you credit.”
I shake my head. “No, I don't want to work like that. I want to spend my money when it's in my hand. That way I can keep better track of it.”
Mystique's smile is large and bright. So bright that it looks almost fake. “See, Sunday, you don't have to worry about Evan. He may have destroyed his other artists, but he's never seen the likes of us. There's no way he's going to pimp us and leave us dry.”

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