Page 2 of Good As Hell

“I’m glad you came,” he says the minute I take my seat.

“I am too, but this seat should be for DiDi,” I tell him, nudging his side with an elbow a little. We both turn to look at the lone figure standing on the far wall.

“You know your ass is wrong for not allowing her to sit with everyone up here.” I give him a little pinch for emphasis.

“Ow, man,” he grumbles. “She didn’t even say she wanted to come until last night. It was last minute as hell.”

“You know that girl wanted to come to the movie she wrote. You be on some weird shit sometimes, I swear.” I fuss at him in low tones. I’m one of the few people in this world who’s not afraid to speak my mind to the billionaire rap mogul. He values that, but it still doesn’t stop the sharp look he casts my why.

“Hm, since when have you become a relationship expert? You’re on your what? Twentieth or thirtieth fake relationship. When the last one was caught with two guys, that should havebeen enough for you to slow your roll.” Comes the low-key scathing clap back.

“Ow,” he says again when I elbow him hard in his ribs.

“You’re lucky I love your lil ass. Don’t do that shit again, man,” he mutters. Taking a handful of my gourmet caramel corn.

“Anyway.” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“Have some? Um, I’m sorry I don’t know if you’re Sadiq or Hassan,” I say sheepishly to the twin to my right, offering my tray of food to him.

“No thanks, and it’s the latter.” Comes a deep baritone draped in midnight. It’s then when I look up into the hazel green of his eyes that my breath catches.

He gives me an impersonal, unimpressed sweep of his gaze. In that moment I feel tried, found wanting and convicted with one dismissive sweep of those long lashes.

He turns his face from me, then at something Lovie-Belle whispers to him. Warm tones reach my ears but the change in how he treats her is not lost on me.

Making sure I’m not touching him in the least I keep my food in a little cocoon relenting when FADE reaches over for more, happy I’m sharing my goodies with him.

I don’t relax — not when the movie starts, not when songs play that I wrote and recorded specifically for the soundtrack. I don’t think I breathe until the credits scroll.

Applause surrounds us in a cloak of love. I know it’s mostly industry people and those close with FADE, but I can’t help feeling proud of the work we did here, celebrating his legacy and setting the record straight on his involvement with Justice’s death.

Still, I can’t escape the chill coming off the man next to me. He’s holding his body as if touching me would make himcombust, as if I’m the lowest trash. He turns more fully to Lovie-Belle, fully icing me out.

As much as I wanted to enjoy this moment with one of my best and oldest friends. I can’t. I haven’t felt so low since before I left home.

“The press is going to have some questions,” FADE tells me after what seems like endless ovations.

We head out the seating of the screening area into the auditorium to the main stage is where the press gathered pack as tight as vultures over a carcass.

“Hey? You good?” No one reads me better than him, except maybe DiDi and his brother, Ghadi. The concern in his voice eradicates the ruthlessness of his set down earlier now only genuine love and concern are etched on his face.

“I’m great.” Nodding for emphasis because the mean ass motherfucker Hassan is still here, though we are all standing now. I can feel his presence right behind me. I will not be giving him the satisfaction of thinking he hurt my feelings. The thing I know for sure about the person he presented to me a little over two hours ago at the beginning of the movie is they get off on making people feel small — especially women. Powerful women like me who need men for nothing but eye candy and the occasional orgasm are a threat to men like him. Asshole gonna asshole.

“Aight.” FADE looks at me with skepticism, dragging the word out to an infinity.

“Even if I’m not, I am. Got that?” I demand as he tucks me under his arm.

“Yeah, but what happened? One minute you were laying into me about my girl, then you started looking all sad. I don’t like that.” He presses a kiss on the crown of my head.

“Nah, I’m good.” My words are muffled by the near headlock he has me in as we make our way down to the stage of the auditorium to the chairs to answer the questions to the press.

“Okay, let’s do this.” He tells me immediately, turning his charisma on to with a thousand-watt-smile for the masses, offering his arm to me like a perfect gentleman helping me to the stage.

No sooner than we are seated are we fielding questions from everything about the movie to production.

I find it hilarious since FADE and I had the least to do with the movie. That’s the thing about being two of the biggest stars in the world. Our names are what sell. FADE does his part, giving all the questions to Lovie-Belle, Delightful, the Al Rasheed brothers and the actors who play the roles of FADE, Ghad and me in the movie.

“Tell us, Lyric, you have the reputation as an exacting perfectionist. Are the rumors true that you gave the team fits about how you were being portrayed?”

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