Page 22 of Brown Sugar

“Um, what?” I mumble through a mouthful of carrots and ranch. I move onto the tiny blocks of cheeses. Meanwhile, my hairstylist brushes out my hair, about to manipulate it into yet another style. “Are you doing what I think you are?”

“I said it makes sense. I understand the perspective now.”

“You mean why you being one more thing trying to control me drives me crazy?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers. “But in this instance, it’s for your safety.”

“Not this again.”

“We have reason to believe the man who opened fire at the Ice Lounge was hired.”

I choke on my next bite of cheddar cheese. “Hired? By who!?”

“We’re still figuring that part out. So, as you can see, princess, I’m not trying to control you. Not in the way your label and handlers are. I’m trying toprotectyou.”

A warm feeling spreads inside of me.

I tear my gaze away from his, dropping to the plate in my lap.

Unable to bring myself to answer him, I’m grateful when I’m hauled off to my next activity.

A live interview on the rooftop of Jamz, one of the hugest music news outlets in the country. Fans gather on the streets below holding up signs with photos of me and slogans like, “We love you, Kiana!”

I walk toward the edge of the roof with my interviewer, Jewels, and wave down at the fans.

“Everybody loves you,” Jewels says, smiling wide. She holds the microphone she’s gripping toward me. “What do you have to say to your fans at home?”

I hit my mark, glancing up at the camera like rehearsed. “You know I love my fans even more than they love me. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the support! I can’t wait for you to listen to this new album. It’s my most personal yet.”

“Excellent, we’re all so excited,” Jewels says. “Let’s talk more about this album.Foundis such an interesting title. What inspired you when naming this album?”

My heart twinges in my chest as I blink at the camera and fight to keep my smile on. The official answer is imprinted in my mind, but now that I’m being forced to market an album that was written aboutShawn, I’m struggling.

I blink a few more times, my energy waning slightly. “Oh, you know, it’s a love album. About finding that special someone for you. The completeness you feel when you do.”

“I love it. Great concept.” Jewels winks at the camera, her tone extra sugary. “And we’re all aware of your amazing relationship with NBA superstar Shawn Lassiter. I’m guessing it’s fair to say these love songs are written about him?”

…yes.

“Uh, well…” I stammer. A wave of lightheadedness comes over me. I try to blink out of it but end up searching the distance for help.

My team’s on standby, watching with expressions that tell me this interview is a train wreck. It’s being streamed and televised live and will likely go viral on social media.

And then there’s Tyson, whose energy is as thick and irritated now as it was earlier when I’d been refused a chance to eat.

Get your act together, K.

“Yes,” I croak finally, recovering. “Yeah, you know, Shawn and I have been together for years. But it’s not just about my relationships. It’s an album for everyone. Anyone who’s… you know, found love.”

“Beautiful. Simply beautiful.”

“Cut!” the director yells. “Commercial.”

“Thank God,” Jewels says, dropping the microphone to her side. “Can we make sure she has her lines straight? The questions haven’t changed.”

Tyson’s the first to come over to check on me. “You alright? You seemed to be fading the longer the interview went on.”

“I’m just… it’s been a long day…”