Don’t crack.
Don’t crack.
Don’t crack.
I kept my perfectly practiced smile on my face and did my best not to look like I was drowning.
I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity about the hate I was getting nor did I have time to hunt Monica down and spit on her. I had press. Radiant Reverie had committed to three interviews today then I had one with Drix that Allison arranged, one of the few she’d locked in during the negotiations of our marriage before it became real. I would have cameras and microphones shoved in my face all day but at least our sales numbers looked good so far.
I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and hopped out of my car. Retta, Charm, and Allison were already inside, but considering they’d seen the news, they were giving me grace for running late.
“Good morning.” Allison walked over as soon as I was in the room and offered me a coffee cup.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She fixed a piece of my hair. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m holding up.”
“Mm.” She exhaled. "I was just telling the ladies that the head of A&R wants to have a meeting with the group today after we finish press.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
“Is it about… you know?” I gestured around.
“I would think so.”
“Great.” I scoffed. “Just great.”
“Yeah. Great fucking job, Myome.”
“You’re one wrong word from taking Monica’s ass whooping for her, so tread fucking lightly today, Retta,” I warned.
She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes but didn’t make another comment.
I checked my phone one more time before we made our way to the seating area for the beginning of our tour press.
Drix was right about getting the announcement removed and scrubbed but of course people had already taken screenshots. They weren’t shared to any of the usual blogs thankfully, which was nice. Whatever he did minimized the fallout and I appreciated that.
Knowing he was trying to handle it had me a little less stressed. Allison made it clear I wouldn’t be answering any questions about my personal life, only professional. While each of the interviewers were annoyed by that announcement, none of them pushed the issue. By the time we finished our third interview, I was running late to the one with Drix.
We’d done two radio stations and a podcast as a group. Now Berlin and I were doing a couples challenge. For one part, we’d answer questions about each other and during the other part we’d answer questions about ourselves and see if our partner got them correct.
When I walked in, Drix already had a mic on and was seated, leaned back in his seat. His eyes lifted to me and he did a quick double take before he climbed to his feet and walked over.
“Hey.” He leaned down to kiss me. “How’s press going?”
“It’s going.”
“You ate today?”
“You were there this morning.” I cut my eyes at him. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a granola bar, ripped it open and held it out to me. I took a bite and he watched me chew and swallow before taking a bite. “I have an emergency meeting with?—”
Berlin cut me off with a quick whistle. My eyebrows knitted together. He grabbed the microphone on his shirt, pulled it off, and tossed it to a random cameraman walking by.
“Hold on to that for me, bruh.” He looked back at me. “What kind of emergency meeting?”
“I don’t know but it’ll probably be about the divorce mentioned the other day.”