Page 91 of It’s The Dawg In Him For Me

“Oh my God, are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, I am just tired.”

“Let me get you a car to go home and see if the standby is still in the building.”

As soon as she said that, I got myself together quickly.

“No, no. I am good,” I said, trying to get off the floor.

“Are you sure? I am sure the standby is still in the building.”

“Do not call the standby! Shyheim is trying to replace me, and I am not about to hand him my job on a silver platter. Just have hair and makeup come to me and get me some ginger ale.”

“Okay, on it.”

Courtney left, and I lay across my sofa waiting for everybody to come take care of me while I replayed the bullshit Shy said to me.

I had enough with Rosama on my plate, and I should never have started anything with somebody I worked with.

A short time passed, and the hairdresser and the makeup artist came in to get me together.

“Girl, you look like you need a bed,” the makeup artist said, tilting my chin up.

I smirked. “You have no idea.”

They worked fast, brushing, blending, trying to fix what I didn’t have the energy to care about. I sat there quietly, still thinking about everything Shy said to me, and the moments we shared before today.

The more I thought about it, my chest tightened, not because of my job, but because that choice was so easy for him to make.

“Okay, we are done,” the hairdresser said as she took a step back.

I looked in the mirror.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

I managed to smile back. “Yes, you made me look as if I am not sick as hell. I love that for me.”

They laughed, gathered all their things, and left with just enough time for me to get changed and walk down to set.

That walk to set felt different, almost heavier.

I never worried about my job, but now it almost felt like I was about to have to perform for my life.

When I got there, Shyheim was already sitting at the desk, going over notes like nothing happened earlier.

I took my seat beside him and didn’t even look his way.

“You ready?” the producer asked.

“Yep,” I said softly.

“Three… two… one…”

“Good morning, I'm Mariah⁠—”

“And I'm Shyheim,” he said, cutting in smoothly.

We moved through the first segment like professionals, no tension showing, no cracks. Just two people doing their jobs.