Princess (Love T.):
Yeah, It was a lil awkward. I mean, you can call me. I should be free in about a hour.
Without thinking, he quickly responded.
Zay:
Nah, I kinda wanted to meet face to face instead. I’m staying at the Doubletree downtown.
The three dots appeared and disappeared again, taking even longer than last time to come through. Zay swallowed a lump in his throat.
Princess (Love T.):
I’m not coming to your hotel room Zay. We can go somewhere public. I can meet you I guess.
Zay:
Bet. We can go wherever you want, it’s on me. I don’t know any food outside of room service really any way.
Princess (Love T.):
We can just meet somewhere simple, this ain’t a date.
He winced and held the phone back like it had burned him.
Zay:
My bad. I just got excited. I’m just tryna make it less awkward.
Princess (Love T.):
It’s okay.
There was a pause, then finally another message came through.
Princess (Love T.):
It’s a little coffee shop I like in midtown. I’ll send you the address. I can meet you there tomorrow morning before we have to be on set.
Zay:
Perfect. Whatever you want Prin.
Zay exhaled, leaned back in the chair, and stared up at the ceiling. The guilt still didn’t lift. If anything, it hung a little heavier.
He stood, walked into the bedroom, and grabbed the hardcover book from the nightstand. It was the book Tara had handed him on day one of the table read, smiling hard like she knew a secret he didn’t. The same book he still hadn’t cracked open. His fingers traced over the title as he read it out loud.
“When the Rain Stopsby Love T.”
He sat at the edge of the bed and flipped it open to read the first chapter. By page three, he froze.
The main male character was a boy with quiet fire, one who pushed everyone away and swore music was his only salvation. He didn’t have a name yet.
But Zay recognized him immediately. It was him.
Fall 2008
Princess lay sprawledacross her bed with a heating pad pressed to her stomach. The TV volume was turned low as the glow of MTV Jams flickered across her walls, looping late-night music video reruns. Each one tugged at some piece of memory she didn’t have the energy to sit with.
