And the crazy part was, I understood why Kyrie stayed irritated half the time now. People really didn’t know when to stop.
Another flash hit the windshield, making me suck my teeth before pulling out of the parking lot.
As I drove off, my phone buzzed through the Bluetooth.
Kyrie.
A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything.
“Hey,” I answered, putting him on speaker.
“The fuck going on?” he asked immediately, his voice tight.
I frowned. “What you talking about?”
“I just seen pictures of you leaving the restaurant with paparazzi all around you.”
Of course he did.
I sighed, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t even like that. Me and Drayla was just leaving, and they started swarming.”
“What they ask you?”
“Questions about us. Questions about Marissa. The usual messy shit.”
His silence lasted a second too long.
“You ain’t answer them, did you?”
“I said they needed to stop treating people’s personal lives like entertainment.”
Kyrie let out a low curse under his breath.
“What?” I asked defensively. “I ain’t even say nothing crazy.”
“That’s not the point, baby. Once you respond, they keep pushing.”
I already knew he was right, which honestly irritated me even more.
“Well, maybe they should stop sticking cameras in people’s faces then.”
“They not gon’ stop, Sianni.” His tone softened a little. “That comes with me.”
I stared out the windshield quietly for a moment.
That part right there was the part I still struggled with.
Not us, not Kyrie.
Everything else was attached to him. The blogs. The rumors. The women constantly trying to insert themselves. The cameras. The pressure of always feeling like people were waiting for your downfall.
“You okay?” Kyrie asked after a pause.
I swallowed before answering honestly.
“I’m trying to be.”
For a second, Kyrie didn’t say anything. All I could hear was the TV playing low somewhere in the background on his end.
