After two years of minimal contact, Hollywood presents an irresistible offer to former lovers Amel Cross, a multi-talented R&B icon, and Cierre Holyfield, a renowned actress. Despite their strained history, they find themselves cast as romantic lead...
Something's not sitting right with me. The origin of Syd and I's dynamic began with an unsettling dislike and distrust. Before Cierre and I got together, she would try to upstage me in front of the actress by testing my intellect. Everyone else may not notice it, but Syd has a habit of being a snobby elitist. She often carries herself as if Cierre isn't the reason for her financial success and dream job.
Our interactions over the years have been packed with subtle jabs and outright clashes. Sometimes our heads butt over Cierre's attention, but most of our battles stem from Syd's pompous attitude against me. It's hard for me to believe that one conversation has inspired Syd to ditch her hatred for me. My dad used to say this simple proverb: "If you keep letting someone play you like a fool, they'll make you the headliner of their circus. And I ain't raise a clown."
Something's off, and my woman's too overjoyed and infused with her manager's bullshit to notice it.
"Amel, are you going to react?" Cierre prompts. She's holding both of my hands, squeezing the life out of them. Her deep brown cheekbones are soaring, dimples begging me to join her in rejoicing. The optimism radiating from her is so endearing that I pray I'm wrong for questioning Syd's intentions.
"Ease up on the grip, peaches," I say, a faint smile softening my bluntness. "You're cutting off my circulation."
Her mouth forms a soft "oh." The grasp on my aching joints transitions to an alleviating massage. She pokes out her bottom lip and rests the back of her hand on my forehead. As she informally checks my temperature, she says, "I'm sorry, angel. I got too excited. Are you not feeling well?"
I felt terrific until she told me how her and Syd's conversation went down. The downfall of their friendship wasn't something I particularly wished for, but I expected Syd to display a bit of defiance. I figured their discussion would end bittersweet at best. I'd hop on a private flight with my lover. Surprise her with a romantic destination, and spend a few days spreading lotion over her booty while beachside.
"I'm fine," I assure her, rubbing my neck. Her scrutinizing stare searches my face, attempting to decipher my thoughts. I let her observe, pondering how to disclose my enduring skepticism towards her friend.
"Well, something's wrong. Are you having second thoughts about publicizing our relationship?"
I skirt her disquieted gaze and bend to sit on the bed. It's like my knee joints are trapped in thick mud. A pained groan nearly launches from me, but I hold it back. No need to concern Cierre. My body is due for a respite. Within 24 hours, it'll finally get one on an exotic island.
I take Cierre's hips and settle her on my lap. She sits with her arms crossed tightly, staring at me like a child who believes I'm a Santa Claus imposter. "I don't have any doubts about us or telling the world about our love, peaches," I say. I move a wavy tendril behind her ear and kiss her cheek. She's still side-eyeing, waiting for me to tell her my issue. "Are you sure Syd is cool with us being together?"
"Yes, Amel." It comes out like an aggravated groan. She clutches my shoulders and shakes them. "Please don't make this a problem, angel. It sounds unbelievable, but I saw sincerity painted all over her face. She respects my decision."
"But does she respect me?"
"In time, she will." Her smooth palm graces my cheek. Her subtle influence draws my gaze into the mesmerizing depths of her chestnut eyes. "I will never let anyone disrespect you to my face ever again. I will come to you if any insecurity or problem develops." Her thumb strokes against my skin. "I love you, Amel. If I didn't trust Syd to respect our relationship, I would've kicked her to the curb. And if she throws me any red flags, I'll handle it. I'll do anything to protect what we have. Do you believe that?"
The blaring sirens of caution within me gradually subside as I nod at my partner's affirming gaze. Her lips caress mine, tenderly brushing their affection upon me. As her winter-fresh breath revitalizes my waning spirits, I can't help but feel cherished and desired by her. The gentle stroke of her hands on my stiff muscles reminds me of the marvelous sensation of being genuinely treasured by someone. I have absolute faith in every word she utters. I'll follow along if she thinks Syd's had a miraculous change of heart.
But if Syd messes with my girlfriend and betrays her trust, I will not hesitate to tear her ass up, like a swarm of mosquitoes on a muggy night in the swamps.
***
Hate written all over you Fake written all over you
- Future & Metro Boomin', "We Don't Trust You"
***
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I'm sorry, the chapters are so short. They're flip-flopping with the POVs right now, and I hate putting more than one POV per chapter.
Y'all think Syd is being fr with Ci or are y'all suspicious like Amel? #PickaSide
Anyway, I'm 'bout to get my mind right for this Bey album. Thanks for reading.
