Dashing over to her purse, Tyler removed the mint can and poured the pills into her palm. Using her index finger, she sifted through them until the tip of her finger brushed across the tiny pill that was going to turn her night right back around. Sighing in relief, Tyler popped the pill into her mouth before falling into the chair. She crushed it with her back teeth for faster relief but frowned at the bitter taste.
While waiting for the potent pill to take effect, Tyler stared at her reflection. She almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. Makeup wasn’t her thing, but to sell the world a dream, she gave into their expectation of beauty. She wore long lashes that rubbed against the brim of her nose when she blinked, itchy weaves that covered her buzz fade, and heavy makeup that transformed her into a different person. Then again, she was a different person. Her voice soothed souls and her enticing body had caused plenty of wet dreams.
Without all the extra shit, Tyler was often compared to Taylor Terry. They shared the same complexion, faded haircut, and pretty smile. Tyler, however, kept her hair covered with wigs, snapbacks, and beanies. A mixture of freckles and moles decorated her cheeks and the brim of her nose. Her lips were full and often stood out when she wore dark lipstick. Tyler’s body was on a different level. Thanks to several rounds of lipo, a BBL, and breast enhancements, Tyler was giving the girls a run for their money. Her waist was tight, her titties were perky, and her thighs matched her ass. Tyler was the bad bitch every other bad bitch thought they were.
“Why the fuck you trying to embarrass me on stage?” The dressing room door flew open, making her jump up from the vanity.
“Boy!” Tyler grabbed her chest in an effort to slow her thumping heart. “Don’t come in here starting shit.” She glanced behind him, seeing the people walking in the hallway stop and stare at them. “And close the door.”
“Fuck all these people,” Dex roared. “You on bullshit. I bailed you and yo stupid ass friends out of jail, so we should be even. The last song was off my album, why the fuck wouldn’t you call me on stage? I could’ve rapped my part.”
“You bailed us out because you’re not stupid, and who is this lil bitch you been flirting with? What, you trying to grin your way into her panties? You know how you do.”
“Man, gone with all that. Wasn’t nobody flirting with no bitch.” He waved her off.
“Dexter, please. You were smiling so hard the corners of yo dry ass lips were cracking.”
“Man,” he chuckled, running his hand through his soft sponge coils. “All I did was take a picture with the bitch.”
“You think you’re so cute, huh?” Tyler rolled her eyes, hating his fuck boy grin.
“That girl was a fan…she was asking for my autograph.”
“A fan?” She snorted. “That bitch probably couldn’t name one song if you paid her.”
“The fuck you trying to say? I don’t have hits?”
“You said it, not me.”
“Fuck outta here. I got hits on top of hits.” Dexter cockily waved her off. “But none of that have got shit to do with you not calling me back on stage.”
“I really didn’t see a point in calling you back on stage when your own set didn’t go over so well.”
“Fuck is you talking about? They were feeling ya boy.” Dexter palmed his chest. “I had that bitch rockin’,” he bragged. “I’m the reason they were so hype when you came out there.”
“Umm,” Tyler squinted, wondering if they were at the same show because surely, he had the details wrong.
The second Dexter stepped on stage you could feel the energy shift. The audience used his set as a bathroom break, and while he tried to act unfazed, Dexter’s head was fucked up. Not only were they leaving to use the restroom and get snacks, but the people who stayed around ignored his attempts to get them engaged. Dexter was jumping around, sweating, and damn near dry humping his dancers. He used all his energy to hype up a crowd that wanted him to get the fuck on. Bringing him back on stage for the last song wasn’t the right move, and quite honestly, Tyler didn’t even want him opening anymore, but she kept those thoughts to herself. She wanted to tell him that instead of trying to make random women stars, he should’ve focused on his craft because the shit sucked.
“That’s fucked up, Ty. I put you on and you treating me like a fucking backup dancer,” he complained. “You think because they canceled my tour, you’re better than me?”
And there they were. His insecurities, poking their ugly head into their relationship, clouding his judgment, and allowing envy to whisper in his ear. Of course, the label canceled his tour. Dex couldn’t sell out a nightclub on a night when ladies were free, let alone a football stadium or basketball arena. The onlytour dates that had traction were the ones where Tyler was his special guest. Did she think he was a backup dancer? No. Did she allow him to join her on stage out of pity? Yes. Was he a bitch? Sometimes.
“You think you better than me?” Dex repeated, wiping the corners of his mouth.
“I never said that, Dexter. You’re tripping right now.”
“I’m tripping because you keep trying to fucking play me like I'm not the reason we’re standing in this fucking dressing room at a sold-out concert. My connections got you this fucking fame bullshit,” he ranted with spit flying from his mouth. “I put you on!”
Dexter putting heronwas the story of their relationship. He acted as if her vocals ranging from high to low hadn’t wowed thousands of people before they met. As if her YouTube channel didn’t have a following bigger than most signed artists, including him. Dexter swore he discovered her and put her on when he featured her on one of his songs. A song that was garbage until she blessed him with her voice and lyrics that she had written herself. It was his only song to ever break through in the Top 100, and it was because of her. The Grammy he was nominated for was because of her. While he might’ve used his connections to get her in the door, it was her who kept those doors open.
“You owe me!” Dex spewed. “I pulled you out of the fucking basement your aunt had you confined in. I bought you a new wardrobe, bought your first car. I made you into this bad bitch the world loves.” He yanked the end of her long weave.
“Stop nigga!” Tyler pushed him out of her face. “What the fuck else do you want from me?” she stressed, now feeling the effects of the pills. “I pay for the penthouse apartment and the cars we havenow. I splurge on vacations and shopping sprees. Ihad them bring you onto the tour, you get free features. Features that people are paying almost one hundred thousand dollars for, I might add. You get them for free and still complain. I basically take care of you, Dex,” she insulted, but it was the truth.
In a matter of seconds, Dex snatched Tyler from the chair and pushed her body into the wall. With a tight grip around her neck, Dex applied pressure while staring down into her glossy brown eyes. Him towering over her didn’t create the panic it should have. His hands wrapped around her neck didn’t scare her one bit, and Dex couldn’t stand it. She didn’t recoil under his gaze or show any sign of weakness. Tyler was standing there with a smirk on her face, daring him to choke her.
“This smart ass mouth gone get you fucked up, Ty. You keep acting like a nigga and I’m going to treat you like one. Is that what you want?”
