He released a heavy sigh, leaning forward in his seat to explain, “They want to do a nude shoot. Top only, hands over the nipples, hair blowing in the wind. The whole nine.”
“I think… that’ll be dope. Give them my word,” I answered, excited about the opportunity to recreate the famous Rolling Stone magazine cover done by my idol Janet Jackson.
In fact, everything about my career revamp felt like hers. Going from the sweet little popstar to the sex symbol with racy lyrics in her early twenties. Catching people off-guard with a sexy new wave and then punching them in the gut with it with this particular magazine cover. The only difference now was that I would have to deal with the backlash on social media; not that it was anything new to me since I had grown up in the age of having your phone on you at all times. But I also knew I had to be sure in my decision. I had to be confident in the image I was presenting. I had to be ready for the picture to be shared a million times over, and to be publicly evaluated by a bunch of strangers who all thought their opinion was the most relevant.
It was clear Caleb wasn’t thinking as impulsively as I was when he asked, “You sure? I mean, this is a pretty big deal. And I know we really want to portray the newly-discovered sex appeal, but we also don’t want to go too overboard.”
While I could appreciate his managerial concern, I was sure to clarify, “First of all, my sex appeal is not newly-discovered, it’s newly-presented. Second of all, it’s all about ownership. If I own who I am, people have no choice but to respect it.”
He nodded proudly as he agreed, “Well alright, boss lady. It’s your world.”
“Oh, I know,” I told him with a wink before checking my phone to see that Gabriel had sent another text.
“Rose, you cool? I promise I ain’t know nothin’ about those pictures.” - Gabe
His concern was adorable, but I couldn’t help myself in continuing to tease him with worry when I replied, “I wanna see you. So we can talk. Face-to-face. Meet me at the studio in thirty?” - Rose
I knew my text probably had him huffing and puffing, upset that I wasn’t taking his word by implying we needed to discuss things in person even though I was only kidding. But according to his immediate reply, he was ready to face the music regardless, letting me know just how committed he was to ensuring we wouldn’t get back off-track when he said, “I’ll be there.” - Gabe
Gabriel
I was annoyed with the conversation and it hadn’t even happened yet. I couldn’t believe Shy was still putting up this front for social media that we were a thing, even though we had been broken up for months now. And I couldn’t believe that not only had Zalayah found out about it, but she was also feeling a way enough to confront me about it.
I understood that her trust issues surrounding that whole situation were completely valid, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t irritated by it since I knew it was far from the truth. But according to the smile she wore when she pranced into the studio, I had apparently interpreted her need to talk all wrong.
“What’s up, superstar? How’d your interview go?” I asked, pulling her into a quick hug that she paired with a kiss to the corner of my mouth before using her finger to scrub at the lipstick stain she must’ve left.
Then she leaned against the ledge space next to where I had been sitting, crossing her arms over her chest as she answered, “It was… interesting. I can almost guarantee the headline is going to be something along the lines of, ‘Zalayah, The Abortion Advocate’, but it is what it is. I can handle the heat.”
“Little mama bouta have the protestors lit outside of her shows,” I teased with a laugh as I plopped down into my chair, though my comments only made her roll her eyes as I tugged at her wrist until she collapsed into my lap. And as she made herself comfortable, resting the back of her head against my shoulder, I told her, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
She pulled her head away to ask, “How can you protect me if you’re too busy protecting yourself from your crazy ass ex-girlfriend?”
Now I was the one rolling my eyes. “She’s not really ‘bout shit. You know that.”
“I don’t know that, but I suppose I can only take your word for it,” she replied as she crawled even deeper into my hold, her new position allowing me to land a kiss to her forehead and then a second before I made sure she didn’t really have an issue with that whole situation.
“So what’d you wanna talk to me about? Or were you just getting my heartrate up for nothin’?” I asked, watching as she adjusted away from me once again to pull out her phone. And what I thought might be the Instagram posts that she had already made a point of turned out to be a news article talking about all of Janet Jackson’s best magazine covers.
She scrolled through the pictures before turning her phone my way to ask, “What do you think about this magazine cover?”
I shrugged. “It’s hot. Classic. Effortlessly sexy without being like… porn or some shit. Not that there’s anything wrong with porn, but...”
“I’m gonna do it,” she blurted out, intently watching me for a reaction.
But I didn’t have one other than, “You’re gonna do what?”
“This shoot. The interview I did today, that magazine wants to put me on the cover. Exactly like this.”
I took a second peek at the picture, trying to imagine Zalayah in Janet’s position as I said, “Oh wow. That’s…”
She cut me off, holding up her hand to say, “Don’t try to talk me out of it. I wasn’t asking for your approval, I was only asking for your opinion.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I insisted, “Relax, relax. I was gonna say that’s great. Exciting. I’m proud of you and I can’t wait to jack off to the whole spread with the bathroom door locked like every other nigga in the country.”
She smacked a hand across my chest as she screeched, “Ew! I don’t wanna think about… you don’t even have to...”
“I’m just messin’ with you, Rose. I know you’ll look good as hell though,” I told her confidently, helping her calm down some, though she almost immediately popped back up with another idea.
“You wanna come with me? To the photoshoot? Having a familiar face around might make me a little more comfortable.”
“If that’s what you want,” I answered with a shrug, surprised that it was me of all people that she wanted to invite for comfort.
Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised since I had been helping her relax since day one. And it was almost as if she had read my mind, remembering the memory as clearly as I did when she smirked and said, “Yeah. It’s what I want.”
“I got you. But now that you done dragged me down here, we should probably put in some work, huh?” I asked, spinning us around in the chair so that we were facing the control surface.
But instead of agreeing, she only groaned, “Ugh. Do we have to? I just wanna… take a break. Hang out with you, talk to you, chill with you...”
“What is this? Our little secret hideout or some shit?” I asked teasingly, giving her an extra squeeze to pull her closer.
She shrugged, giggling as she replied, “I guess you could say that. I mean, we don’t have to stay here though, if you don’t want to. We don’t even have to do this. We can work.”
This time it was me shrugging. “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t mind chillin’ with you.”
Instead of just resting her head back against my shoulder like I expected her to, she stood up from the seat, taking me with her and leading us to the couch. Then she insisted that I lay down so that she could snuggle up against me, adjusting her weight on top of me until her head was against my chest and her leg was tossed over my waist.
Almost instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her to hold her in place without being too overbearing. It was very… intimate without necessarily being sexual, though if she wanted it to be sexual, I was always down to take it there. But that didn’t seem to be the case as we settled into a comfortable silence, our breathing going
in sync as she repetitively ran the hand that wasn’t tucked under her across my cheek.
“I like you, Gabe,” she practically whispered against my chin, continuing her soothing strokes with her palm.
I peeked down at her, finding her eyes so that I could tell her, “Yeah? I like you too, Rose.”
She released a content sigh, though her words didn’t exactly match it when she started, “I wish we could just... be a normal couple. I mean, I know we aren’t a couple, but like… if we could do stuff that normal couples do. You know, go to the movies, go to the mall, have car sex in the darkest section of the park.”
“Freaky ass,” I thought to myself with a grin as I told her, “We can do all that and more as long as you’re ready to see the headlines about it the next day.”
She shifted her body once again, propping her head up with her elbow as she stared out towards the room instead of at me. I could tell she had gone into deep thought about something, but before I could ask her about it, she explained, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a headline. I wish I was just a normal citizen without this big name and identity to live up to. I wish nobody cared about what I did, or who I did it with, or why I did it at all. I wish I could just… have the fun I’m supposed to be having at this age, and live a regular ass millennial life.”
While I wasn’t sure where the desire to be regular was coming from, I had no problem putting things back in perspective for her. “Zalayah, you’ve built an empire, and now you’re getting ready to take that to the next level. Don’t ever wish that away on the account of being normal. Trust me, normal doesn’t mean issue-free. You’ll just find new, normal people issues. Like… not being able to pay your bills on time, or dealing with annoying ass family members.”
Instead of taking my word, she only shrugged as she replied, “I could just sing on the street for tips to make ends meet. And then I could move clear across the country so I only have to deal with family members on the holidays. Problems solved.”
I could appreciate her hypothetical resilience, but that wasn’t enough to stop me from driving my point home. So as I ran a hand through her hair before resting it at the nape of her neck, I reminded her of the mantra my mother had always told me. “Everything happens for a reason Rose, including your career. And now seems like a better time than any to embrace that.”
That seemed to do the trick, her lips finally twisting into a grin as she adjusted again so that she was now straddling my lap. My hands went straight to her thighs that had become even more exposed with the rise of the shorts she was wearing, my fingertips gliding against her skin as she insisted, “I guess if I didn’t have this career, I would’ve never met your mean ass. So I guess that’s worth something.”
“You really think I’m that mean?”
She laughed as if the question was ridiculous. “You’re an asshole, Gabe. Seriously. But then there’s other side of you that’s just… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”
“Been there before,” I muttered more to myself than her.
Though considering we were the only two in the room, it was clear that she had heard me enough to ask, “Yeah? With your ex?”
“No. With you.”
“With me?” she asked, her head snapping back as if that really surprised her.
But I tried to play it down as I explained, “Yeah. I was talking to my mom about you and…”
I couldn’t even finish before she interrupted to say, “Holy shit. You were talking to your mom about me? Your mom knows who I am?”
Now it was me laughing. “Yeah, Rose. It ain’t that damn shocking. But anyway, I was trying to explain how I felt about you, and I… couldn’t. But I knew it existed. And at the time I didn’t want it to exist, but it happened anyway. You happened anyway.”
“Well everything happens for a reason, right? Isn’t that what you said?” she asked teasingly, running her hands across the front of my t-shirt until they landed at my shoulders.
I wasn’t even sure if she realized the new position almost put her breasts right in my face, but she didn’t seem to care either way as she stared down at me with a look of adoration that had my heart pounding so hard I wondered if she could feel it.
Of course she could feel it.
She felt me, saw right through me, even when I didn’t want to admit it. But she had been able to break right through the wall I had put up against her from the very beginning, as if she had the cheat code and could just walk through a door instead. And the crazy part was, I no longer minded. Whatever was happening between us was obviously out of my control, so there was no use in still trying to fight it. Because yeah, we might not have been an official couple with the titles, but the feelings were there.
The feelings were real.
So as I tightened my grip on her thighs, I finally answered, “That is what I said. And it happened. And if you keep moving around against my dick like that, it’s really about to happen right here on this couch.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” she asked as she started grinding against me; slow and sensual, but still enough to get a rise out of me.
And now that it was clear she wanted to play around, I met her grinds with thrusts of my own when I answered, “It’s more of a prediction.”
The adorable smile she gave in response went straight to my chest, making my heart flutter in a way only she knew how to do. But it was all worth it once she replied, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
&
I couldn’t stop smiling.
Seeing Zalayah in her element in the studio was one thing. But seeing Zalayah in her element in front of the camera with all eyes on her was a completely different experience.
She was sexy, she was confident, and she bossed up like no other, letting everyone from the makeup and hair crew to the photographer know exactly what she wanted without being a super diva about it. And even though she was probably the youngest person in the room, she was met with a level of respect that people seemed to enjoy meeting. And not even in a, “Kiss her ass because she’s the star and I don’t want to lose my job” kind of way. But in a genuine, “I respect her hustle, so I’m going to do my best for her” kind of way, which was honestly refreshing as hell since I expected the exact opposite. Then again, I shouldn’t have really been surprised since everything about Zalayah had turned out to be the opposite of what I initially thought about her.
I was standing in the background with her manager, Caleb, who I had only met a few times in passing. But we were both watching in awe as Zalayah flirted with the camera, keeping her hands over her pasty-covered nipples as the photographer snapped a series of at least thirty frames.
“So you’re the boyfriend now, right?” he asked seemingly out of nowhere, keeping his eyes trained on Zalayah as the makeup lady slipped in to powder her nose and the hair lady made a few adjustments to the natural curls she wore.
While I wasn’t sure what had even prompted him to ask, I had no problem denying it when I replied, “Nah, not really. We’re just kickin’ it.”
He laughed, shaking his head as he slipped his hands in his pockets before peeking over at me to say, “Producers don’t typically get invited to photoshoots, my nigga. You can keep it real with me.”
“We’re just kickin’ it, for real. She’s cool peoples,” I answered with a little shrug, trying my best to simplify what I knew was much more. But I wasn’t sure how much Zalayah wanted other people to know, wasn’t sure if she wanted her manager in particular to know about us, and I wasn’t going to step over that line if I didn’t have to.
Of course, Caleb wasn’t making things any easier when he pressed, “My guy, I see the way you’ve been lookin’ at her. You ain’t gotta lie to kick it.”
But again, I shrugged. “I was looking at her just like everybody else in here, including you.”
He smacked his teeth as if he already knew my reason was really just an excuse, letting off another laugh before he said, “She’s my client. It’s my job to loo
k after her.”
“Well she’s mine too,” I replied, hoping that was enough to make the point that I wasn’t give him any extra information. And I thought it had worked, us falling back into a comfortable silence as we watched the photographer snap another, longer series of pictures.
But even through the loud clicking from the lights flashing, I heard Caleb clear as day when he said, “I think I might go ahead and shoot my shot. See what’s good with her.”
“Nigga, I’ll beat your…”
I caught myself once I realized he had only been joking, purposely setting me up to get a reaction when he held his hands up to say, “See. It’s not the same.” And once he saw me shaking my head in response, he put a hand to my shoulder and continued, “You like her, bruh. I think it’s dope. And I mean, spending all that time together in the studio, it was really only a matter of time. But she’s a sweet girl, man. A gem. Don’t mess that up, aight?”
Once again, I found myself trying to figure out where any of this was coming from. But instead of asking, I only nodded as I told him, “I got it, bruh. Don’t even trip.”
He pulled his hand away to ask, “Oh, you got it now? Just a second ago, you weren’t even trying to claim her.”
“Because we’re not like that. I mean, we are. But it’s not at a place of titles and shit. It just… is what it is. No pressure, just a mutual understanding,” I replied, trying to put into words what truly couldn’t be explained.
Thankfully Caleb didn’t press me for anything more, nodding as he repeated, “A mutual understanding. I feel that.” And before I could change the subject to take the spotlight off me, Zalayah brought it on in a different way when she waved in my direction to get my attention before inviting me onto the set.
My approach was slow, captivated by how everyone was still in motion even though the actual shoot had come to a pause. And once I made it over to her, I tried not to get too distracted by her mostly-nude upper body. Well… until she asked for it.
Heated Harmonies Page 15