Time to Shine Read online

  We walk down the stairs arm in arm, me with a fake smile plastered on my face, and Sam giving head nods and grins to people taking pictures. I don’t think there’s ever been a moment in my life that I wanted over quicker than this stroll to the altar. Sam seems to be enjoying it though.

  Finally, Sam and I separate and go to opposite sides of the altar. He stands behind Zac the Zillionaire, and I wait patiently with the three other bridesmaids for Mystique to descend the stairs.

  A collective gasp rises from the room as Mystique finally emerges at the top of the steps. She looks breathtaking in her white gown, accented with lace and a bodice covered in crystals. She reminds me of a Disney princess as she glides down the stairs holding on to her father’s arm. This is my first time seeing him, because he and Ms. Layla aren’t married, and he’s not around much.

  As she approaches the altar, Mystique scans the room taking in her guests, and her eyes stop on the Reign Records crew. A very brief and almost unnoticeable twitch of her nose and eyes let me know that Mystique was furious about the all white, as I knew she would be. It was probably Dreya’s idea to cause her trademark drama or to do something to take away from Mystique’s day. Dreya hates Mystique just enough to do that.

  Although I don’t have proof, I believe that Dreya is the one who leaked the story about Zac’s love child to every blogger in the Internet world who even cares about black celebrities. I have no idea how she would know about the love child, but I can’t think of anyone else who dislikes Mystique enough to do that.

  Dreya’s dislike of Mystique hinges on hatred, and not in the fake hateration thing that artists do to one another, I mean the literal goes-down-deep hatred. That kind of feeling only can come from jealousy, and Dreya’s got lots of that too. She’s so envious of Mystique’s success that she can’t even see how talented she is in her own right.

  Luckily, Mystique and Zac haven’t picked a long-winded preacher to do their ceremony. These heels she’s got me wearing with this dress are beyond cute, but as far as standing up goes, I think my feet are staging a mini-protest.

  After they say their vows, swap kisses, and wave to their friends, family, and supporters, we are whisked away to do a Mystique and Zac wedding-day photo shoot. Of course, it’s not going to be like a regular wedding where you take a bunch of pictures in about an hour and everybody goes to the reception. Oh, no. This one has hair and makeup (as if we didn’t JUST do hair and makeup), and costume changes for the bride and groom.

  While we’re waiting for Mystique to be perfectly posed for her singular bride portrait, Sam strolls over to where I’m standing. This irritates me, because I can’t find an acceptable escape route, and he knows that I don’t want to talk to him.

  “Hey, Sunday,” he says as if we are not ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend. “The wedding was nice, huh?”

  I nod. “It was very nice.”

  “So, you gonna dance with me at the reception?”

  Big, gigantic sigh. “Sam, I do not like you. What part of that do you not understand?”

  “The not-liking part. Sunday, don’t tell me you’re never going to forgive me.”

  I scrunch my face into a twisted frown. “This has nothing to do with forgiveness. This has to do with what makes sense and what doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense for me to be your girlfriend, because you don’t know how not to cheat.”

  “Based on your definition of cheating.”

  “My definition matches about ninety-eight percent of the entire rest of the world’s definition.”

  Sam cracks his neck and then his knuckles. Signs that he’s frustrated. Am I the one frustrating him? Really? He should practice some soul searching, and maybe he’d be irritated with himself for messing up a really good thing.

  “Once you make your mind up, there’s no convincing you. Rielle is a bird that goes to my mother’s church. She’s nothing to me.”

  I shake my head. “She’s nothing. That’s sad. I hate that she gave her virginity to you, because you keep saying that she’s nothing. What type of dude are you, Sam? I mean, don’t you think you could try to get back with me without crapping on Rielle?”

  “There’s a chance that we could get back together?”

  “Nah, playa. Not even a little, slim chance.”

  Do you ever feel like the same drama is so tired and so played, that you don’t even want to entertain it anymore? That’s how I feel about Sam and our on-again, off-again relationship. It’s like, come on, can I get to the next track on the CD of my life? This dude keeps trying to press replay and I’m done.com.org.info.

  When the guys are taking a group shot with Zac, Mystique loops her arm in mine and smiles. “It’s almost over. The day, I mean. I’m so ready for it to be done.”

  “Really? It’s your wedding day. It’s supposed to be the best day of your life.”

  She shrugs. “It is, but I can’t help but think about Zac’s child. He’s the whole reason we’re getting married, and that is annoying no matter how I look at it.”

  I glance around and notice that there’s no one standing near us while we talk. Mystique is an ultra-private person, so her sharing this little tidbit out in the open is totally unlike her.

  “I think that’s only part of the reason, Mystique. Don’t you think Zac really loves you too?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t believe that. I just think he would’ve stayed in single baller status with beautiful chick by his side for a while longer. The whole illegitimate child thing forced his hand.”

  “He’s just trying to keep you from leaving him, I think. He loves you and wants you to know that you mean more than a jump-off.”

  She cocks her head to one side as if she hasn’t considered this before. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I am right!” I reply. “This is not just about sending a message to the fans, but he’s also saying something to the baby’s mama. It doesn’t matter if she does have a child with him, you are number one.”

  Mystique smiles and gives me a one-armed hug. “I see why everybody wants to be your friend, Sunday. You’ve always got the best advice.”

  This makes me laugh out loud. “Everybody is not trying to be my friend! I think Dreya and Bethany can pretty much do without me right now.”

  “Bethany was just upset for a minute, with that pregnancy thing. She was stupid to get pregnant by Dilly. He’s just a baby. I don’t agree with the abortion, but she did what she felt she had to do.”

  “She said she had a miscarriage.”

  Mystique shakes her head. “Nah. She had an abortion. Evan made sure of that. He heard those finished tracks off her album, and he convinced her to get rid of her baby.”

  “You say that like she wasn’t really feeling it.”

  “She wasn’t, but you know Bethany. More than anything she wants to blow up. And Reign Records was not about to promote a pregnant singer.”

  “That whole thing is messed up though. I hope it’s worth it to her.”

  The guys all put on sunglasses and strike a pose with their arms folded across their chests. It’s really cute, although I exclude Sam from my mind when I think of the hotness. He’s not hot to me, no matter what he does.

  “I know they think they’re getting to me by wearing white to my wedding,” Mystique says nonchalantly. “But I don’t care.”

  This makes me chuckle. She definitely cares, but is classy and spiteful enough to not ever let Evan and his crew know that she does.

  “Okay, Mystique. You know you can be real with me, right? It would piss me off what they did, so it’s okay for you to be angry. I won’t tell anyone.”

  Mystique lifts an eyebrow and flips her wig out of her face. “I am elevated so high above those haters that it doesn’t even matter, seriously.”

  “Whatever you say, girl. Whatever you say.” I give Mystique my straight face stare, to let her know that whatever it is she’s selling, I’m not buying.

  When we get done with the photo shoot,
we enter the reception area, where everyone is already seated and nibbling on appetizers and sipping champagne. DeShawn is sitting with my mother and aunt, and apparently he’s charming the heck out of my mother because she is holding her chest and giggling. She’s pretty hard to impress, so I’m surprised that DeShawn has her attention.

  He’s got my attention too. His three-piece, fitted navy-blue suit makes him look classy enough to walk a runway. His wavy low fade, dark eyebrows and light goatee have got plenty of girls in the room checking him out. This is cool with me too, though, because DeShawn is not my man, even though he wants to be.

  He’s been pushing up hard, ever since we met. I told him that I had a boyfriend, and although he wasn’t disrespectful with it, he still let it be known that he was ready to slide in as soon as Sam messed up. When he starred in one of my music videos, we got closer, as friends, and he’s a solid member of my college clique. He even tried to help when Sam and I broke up, by bringing me some of my favorite comfort food.

  All in all, DeShawn is good people, and he’s going to make someone a really good boyfriend. Just not me.

  I sit at the head table with the bridal party, unfortunately next to my nemesis, Sam.

  “So, I have some tracks that I want you to listen to, for Dreya’s album. Should I email them to you, bring them to the studio, what?”

  “Eww, you smell like weed, Sam. What did you do? Smoke some after we took the pictures?”

  Sam sucks his teeth. “Sunday, I told you I wasn’t going to smoke weed anymore, but you know, my boys do, so it is what it is.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m the same dude you met a year ago and fell for, Sunday. I’m just a lot richer.”

  “You are not the same dude I met, Sam. But whatever, send the tracks by email, or give them to Big D. I’ll go in the studio and see if there’s anything I can work with.”

  “You are determined to make this difficult, huh?”

  I shake my head with sheer irritation. “This would not be difficult at all, if you get it through your head that we are not going to get back together. I’m all about getting this music done, so let’s just do that.”

  Thank God Mystique’s mom stands up to toast the couple, because Sam is getting on my last nerve.

  Ms. Layla says, “Mystique and Zac are a perfect team. They are not just the king and queen of the industry right now, but they are a couple completely in love. They have proven today that nothing can break them down. Not bloggers, not rumors, not haters, and not jump-offs. Cheers to the happy couple!”

  I hold up my glass of champagne, and watch Mystique’s expression. She’s smiling, but there’s something that looks like uncertainty too.

  The music starts, and Mystique and Zac have their first dance to “You Make me Feel Brand New.” It’s an old school song, but the dance is beautiful. Zac stares into Mystique’s eyes like she’s the only other person in the room. He may have messed up, but he definitely loves her above all others.

  After the couple’s first dance, and Mystique’s dance with her dad, the members of the bridal party have to dance with each other. I steel myself against how irritating it’s going to be to dance with Sam.

  He walks over to me purposefully, with a half smile on his face. “I know you aren’t feeling this,” he whispers. “But it’s for Mystique and Zac.”

  I nod. “That’s the only reason why I’m doing it.”

  It’s a slow song, but I keep enough space between my body and Sam’s that it actually looks awkward.

  “You want to just hand dance?” he asks. “I know you don’t want to be hugged up with me right now.”

  “Or ever. Let’s hand dance.”

  Sam takes my hands and pulls me close then we separate and do a little spin. It’s old school—the way our parents dance, and if I wasn’t trying to hold vomit down from having to look at Sam, I might be having fun with it.

  After that five-minute ordeal is over, the female members of the bridal party have a special surprise. We, along with Mystique, have choreographed a dance to “Ride” by Ciara. Everyone is entertained by our dropping it like it’s hot and gyrating our hips.

  I notice while we’re dancing, that Sam has taken a seat next to my mother. I watch him hug her and kiss her on the cheek and chat it up for the entire song. He soooo doesn’t know me if he thinks he can get back with me by going through my mother.

  After the song is over, I go to DeShawn’s seat and say, “Come on, I want you to meet my mother. She’s met all my other college friends.”

  His eyes light up. “Sunday, I’ve already met her! I was sitting with her and your auntie.”

  “I know, but I didn’t introduce you.”

  “Well, fine. But don’t you think it’s a little early for introductions? I mean, we haven’t officially started dating yet, Sunday.”

  I give a little irritated head shake and pull DeShawn over to my mom. “Hey, Mommy. Are you having fun?”

  “I-I guess. All this is a bit much. I’m not used to all this. Most of the weddings I go to have the reception in the church social hall.”

  My aunt Charlie cuts in. “This is how we are gonna live from here on out, Shawn! You wait until Dreya marries that Evan. We’re gonna do it even bigger than this!”

  I don’t burst my aunt’s bubble by telling her that there’s probably no chance that Evan and Dreya will ever get married. She’s obviously got a fantasy about it, so I’ma just let her go ahead and have it.

  “Mommy, I just want you to meet my friend DeShawn. He’s my date tonight. He plays ball at Georgia State.”

  My mom smiles at him. “Oh, we’ve already met! I thought you were one of these artists or actors or somebody. I didn’t know you were one of Sunday’s college friends.”

  DeShawn shakes my mother’s hand by covering her hand with both of his. She seems to like the sincere gesture. “I am a model, Ms. Tolliver, but I’m nowhere near celebrity status like anybody here. The only reason I got on the guest list is because of Sunday.”

  My mother pulls me down and whispers, “He’s fine. Too fine. Be careful.”

  I let out a little chuckle at my mother’s frank observation. DeShawn is incredibly fine. It almost comes with the territory that a guy this good looking would be a player. My mom knows a little something about pretty boys too. Her last serious boyfriend, Carlos, was really good looking and even though he was faithful, he was nothing but trouble.

  Now it’s time to open up the dance floor to everyone and the party really starts. Of course, with my cousin and auntie in the room, the party getting started means the drama is set to pop off. Dreya picked Drama as her stage name, and she tries, every day, to live up to it.

  Dreya pulls Evan to the middle of the dance floor, and starts dancing and taking pictures of them on the floor with her cell phone. Mystique has asked that no one take any pictures during the wedding or reception, especially with cell phones.

  “Reign Records in the house!” Dreya shouts out when the DJ plays one of her singles.

  Evan joins in, “Reign Records run this mutha! If you a Reign Records artist, you need to get out on this dance floor and represent!”

  I hesitate, because even though I am a Reign artist, I know this whole display is bothering Mystique. She walked away from the whole Reign Records team and decided to stay with the parent company, Epsilon Records. Evan looked at Mystique’s decision as some sort of betrayal, but Mystique and Zac did it to let Evan know he wasn’t in charge of Mystique’s career.

  Dilly grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. Even though we’ve had a rocky past with his brother being partially responsible for my mom’s boyfriend getting shot, we are friends now. Dilly is an incredible rapper, and I want to see him blow up. He’s magic on stage with me and with anyone he performs with.

  “This is a baller’s wedding, right?” Dilly asks as he pops and locks to the music.

  I match some of his dance moves, but not all; I’m not the greatest dancer. “It i
s a baller’s wedding! But Mystique and Zac have crazy capital.”

  “One day, I’ma be paid like this. I’m gonna have steak and lobster at my wedding reception.”

  “Yes, you are, Dilly. But a wedding for you is a long way off. You haven’t even graduated from high school yet.”

  Dilly laughs out loud. “You love reminding me how young I am. I think you just do it to keep your feelings for me in check.”

  I punch Dilly lightly on the arm. “I don’t have any feelings for you, boy.”

  “It’s okay, you can admit it,” Dilly says. “And I’m gonna let you have your way with me on my prom night.”

  “I thought you were looking for another girl to go to prom with!”

  Dilly shakes his head. “That was when you were dating Sam, and he was tripping. Now he’s not telling you what to do, so I want the American Music Award winner to go to my prom.”

  “By the time of your prom, I’m a have some Grammys too,” I say with a giggle.

  “All right then, Grammy winner. I’ll take that too.”

  DeShawn steps to us. “Dude, can I get a dance in with my date?”

  Dilly throws his hands up. “You get rid of one dude and scoop up another, huh? You’re still going to my prom, even if this hardhead is your new boo.”

  “DeShawn is my friend, Dilly, so you still have a prom date.”

  Dilly seems satisfied with this and bounces off to dance with another pretty girl who’s standing next to the dance floor. I almost thought he was going to ask Bethany, but I should’ve known better than that. Dilly and Bethany have too much history.

  “So this is how the rich and famous get married, huh?” DeShawn asks.

  I shrug in time to the music. “I guess.”

  DeShawn smoothly wraps one arm around my waist and takes my hand. It’s a mid-tempo Mystique cut, not a slow song, but DeShawn is sure making it feel like one. I catch Sam glare over in our direction, which completely annoys me. He doesn’t get to be mad about me and DeShawn. Even if I had moved on already, which I haven’t, Sam doesn’t get to have any emotional meltdowns about it. He had his chance.