Musa shoveled the veggie omelet into her mouth faster than she should. She was so hungry; that's what she got for sleeping so late. She had scheduled the morning free, anticipating that the late night – and alcohol – would cause her to sleep in. Still, she'd set an alarm for eleven so that she'd be awake when the album's first single dropped at noon. And, as it turned out, sleeping in also meant that Riven made her breakfast – an unanticipated bonus.
"How are you feeling?" Riven asked, placing a cup of coffee in front of her and taking his seat beside her. He sipped his own cup slowly, watching with amusement as she stuffed herself.
"Hungry."
"Yeah, I can tell."
"Whatever" Musa scoffed, taking a sip of her coffee. He knew how she took it – two sugars, one milk. It was the little things like that that made her heart melt. She, to her credit, had also memorized his incredibly difficult coffee order; black. Fucking weirdo. "I'm fine otherwise, though."
"How? I had to carry you to bed you were so trashed!"
Oh yeah, she remembered that. She'd rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. He was as warm as she thought he'd be and so much comfier too. Her stomach did backflips remembering his arms around her and the way she could smell his cologne – faint after a long night – on the collar of his shirt. "I'm twenty-two. I bounce back quickly unlike your old ass."
"Old?" he demanded.
"That's what I said."
"I'm only six years older than you. You'll be as old as me before you know it." Musa stuck her tongue out at him. Riven returned the gesture before taking a sip of his coffee. A comfortable silence fell between them before Musa's phone started going crazy. Riven raised his eyebrows at it before looking at the clock on the stove. Musa's eyes followed his to the bright numbers.
12:05.
Just enough time for people to have seen the video and the bold letters at the end that announced that her album would release July 25th at 1pm. In fifty-five long, nerve-wracking minutes. Musa took a sip of her coffee and a deep breath before checking her phone. There were more notifications from Twitter and Instagram than should be possible – she'd have to mute those – and a lot of messages from the group chat. She pushed away the notifications from Twitter and Instagram in favour of opening the group chat.
Bloom: THAT VIDEO
Bloom: MUSA
Bloom: AISHA
Aisha: BLOOM
Bloom: That fucking scene where you two are dancing in the garage
Bloom: OMG
Bloom: I've never been so attracted to either of you before
Aisha: What? We weren't hot enough for you?
Aisha: That what you're saying?
Stella: She can't possibly be saying that
Stella: She's dating Sky for fucks sake
Bloom: Stella!
Stella: What? He's not awful or anything, but Musa and Aisha are defs hotter than him
Stella: Have you seen them dance? I mean... COMEON
Stella: Also, I would like to take some credit for how hot they look in the video
Aisha: We don't need your outfits to be hot
Stella: Course not, but they help
Bloom: MUSA'S ASS
Bloom: WTF
Bloom: Bet Riven loved that look
Stella: I bet everyone will love that look
Stella: But especially Riven ; )
Aisha: Can confirm. I caught him watching her a few times while we were shooting
Tecna: Isn't his job to keep an eye on her?
Stella: Shush Tecna
Stella: This isn't the time for your logic
Tecna: Noted. I'll try to be less logical next time
Stella: Thank you. That's all we ask
Bloom: His job is to keep an eye on her, but not to watch her like a hawk
Bloom: If he's watching her so much it's cause he likes what he sees
Bloom: WHICH AGAIN
Bloom: THAT FUCKING OUTFIT IS AMAZING
Bloom: And Musa's ass OMFG
Bloom: So you know, can't blame him
Musa: Hey Musa, love the video
Musa: Hey Aisha, your choreography was amazing
Musa: No.
Musa: You talk about him instead
Stella: Um, excuse you. No Hey Stella, great job on the outfits
Bloom: EXCUSE ME
Bloom: I complimented the video and dancing
Bloom: I just also happened to talk about he-who-shall-not-be-named
Tecna: Bloom, he's a crush not Voldemort
Bloom: WTV
Bloom: ANYWAYSSSSSSS
Bloom: Just wanted to tell you that I loved the video
Aisha: As you should
Musa: Thanks B
Stella: NO LOVE FOR MY DESIGNS?
Bloom: I very obviously loved your designs. I always do.
Stella: Thank you.
Musa debated checking Instagram or Twitter but decided against it. She didn't have the guts to. The first single she and her team had chosen had been relatively safe one – a more r&b sounding song rather than anything closer to the pop rock sounds she'd chosen for some of the other songs – but she was still nervous that people would hate it if wasn't the pure pop sounds they were used to.
"So, what are people saying about the video?" Riven asked as he finished his coffee and got up to put the cup in the dishwasher.
"Don't know" Musa shrugged. She muted her social media notifications, deciding to let Mirta and Amaryl handle those. She had an important meeting this afternoon and couldn't spend her time obsessing over what her fans thought. Even if she knew her mind would be there anyways. Besides, Mirta was much better with social media than she was. While Musa loved interacting with her fans and had, at first, loved that socials gave her a chance to do that on her terms, she'd quickly realised that she didn't ever think of posting and that she felt bad when she didn't answer people. Most of the time, Mirta or Amaryl would post for her, and Musa would go behind and answer some of the comments but when it got too overwhelming – like now – they would happily step in and manage it. Musa had no idea what she'd do without the redhead.
"You're not curious about what your fans think?" Musa's eyes met him dead on and she let out a deflated sigh. He should know by now that she wasn't checking because she was nervous. They'd had an entire conversation about it last night – at least she was pretty certain they had. "Right. You're nervous... I really don't think you need to be. The album's great, and every other album you've put out has hit number one in multiple countries."
Great? What happened to didn't hate it? When had it been upgraded to great? Did he really think that or was he just trying to make her feel better? And more importantly: "How do you know all my albums have hit number one multiple countries?"
Riven's mind momentarily froze. He couldn't possibly tell her that he'd bothered to do research on her career earlier that week. He'd just been so curious. Tecna had told him that Musa's fourth album was one of the quickest selling albums in the US, having sold just over two million copies in its first week. She'd been right; Musa was third, behind Adele and N'Sync. He'd also learned that her debut album had been a hair away from outselling Britney Spears', coming just under one hundred thousand copies short. "Flora mentioned it" he answered when he realised that Musa was still waiting for him to explain how he knew.
"You two talk about me?" Musa questioned with a smirk.
Only every time she tells me that she thinks I'm in love with you.
"She was asking if you were excited about the release."
"And you told her I was basically shitting myself with anxiety about it?"
"Something like that."
Musa narrowed her eyes at him briefly before placing her fork on the empty plate and pushing it away. She folded her hands together and rested her chin on them, a contemplative look crossing her face. "They all went to number one because they were formulated to be chart toppers, not because they were worthy of it." Her voice was so low that, had the dishes clanged a bit more when he'd placed them in the dishwasher, he would have missed her statement entirely. Riven closed the dishwasher and turned to her with a curious look. "Do you not like them?"
"I mean, yes" Musa backtracked. "There's just a lot of things I would've liked to do differently."
Riven's phone buzzed in his pocket. He grabbed it, assuming that the buzzing was from the alarm he'd set to remind them to get to Musa's meeting. Instead, it turned out to be a text from Nabu and Flora. Both requesting that he give Musa their compliments. As he was putting his phone away, a second text from Flora came through. For you to enjoy ; ) along with a link to a YouTube video. Riven opened the link, pausing it immediately. It was a link to Musa's video.
"Like what?" he asked as he casually scrolled through the comments on the video.
"The sound, for starters. I've never really cared for bubblegum pop, and I'd never have chosen that sound."
Louisyloo4302: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Marie: ALL HAIL THE QUEEN
A R: i think im gonna cry omg omg omg omg what did we do to deserve this blessing
Sabrinababy: THE LOOKS! THE CHOREO! THE SONG! Our queen is serving!
fRaNky: BRB JUST GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE NOW SO I CAN ENJOY THIS IN HEAVEN WHERE IT BELONGS
sophie: SO PUMPEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!
Mark Garcia Ramirez: Musa's vocals are so on point! Can't wait to hear the rest of the album 33
Well, sure seemed to Riven that Musa's fans loved the album and she had absolutely no reason to panic. No surprise there. From what he'd seen, Musa had a wildly dedicated fan base that spanned the globe. And, contrary to what he believed when he'd taken this contract, she really did deserve it.
"I don't think you have to worry about your fans not liking the not-quite-bubblegum sound" he commented, sliding his phone across the counter for her to read the comments. She leaned over the counter, scrolling through the comments. Riven watched happily as her face lit up. He thought he'd managed to cheer her up and comfort her until her smile dropped. "What?"
"What a talentless hack. Why can't she just accept that her 'music' is trash and stop subjecting the world to this crap."
"Fuck that asshole" Riven said gruffly. "Who gives a shit about one dickhead's negative opinion anyways."
"Yeah... you're right" she agreed, sliding his phone back over to him. "Really wish you'd stop doing that."
"What? Being right?"
"Yeah." A chuckle escaped her lips as her eyes met his with a serious look. "You know you were that dickhead once."
"I never left shitty comments about you online" he defended. "Besides, I've seen the light."
"You've realised how amazing I am?" Musa teased, pretending to toss her long dark – currently tied – hair over her shoulder. He rolled his eyes at her, and she started to laugh. It was no use resisting the way the corners of his mouth seemed to pull upwards when she laughed. The sound was just too joyous and infectious.
"You're alright." Musa scoffed in response, but, even with the shocked expression, the smile never faded from her lips. Their eyes met once again and this time they stuck, lingering on each other in a way that made his body tingle until the alarm he'd set went off, reminding them they had to leave.
Musa took a seat beside Aisha at the table, thankful that they had more coffee for her to drink. She could hear her Bloom reminding her that she should limit caffeine intake in the back of her mind, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Regardless of how tired she'd been last night, it had taken her close to two hours to fall asleep after Riven had brought her to her room and she'd woken three time after that. She would be functional today thanks to a mixture of coffee, anxiety and excitement.
Carmen and Cindy, her tour manager and booking manager entered the room, followed closely by Tecna who took a seat on Musa's other side. Faragonda was the last to arrive, a mere two minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. Her accountant, tour photographer, tour videographer, head of crew were all also present, though they all tended to take a backseat in these meetings. Carmen would do most of the talking as tour manager since this meeting was to start discussing her upcoming tour.
"So, after discussing with Musa, Cindy and I have started to plot the next world tour. It'll last nine months, starting in November with a small two week hiatus over the holidays so that you can be at home for that."
"None months?" Aisha questioned.
"Are you sure about that?" Tecna added on. "We've never toured for more than six months."
"Yeah. I'm not ecstatic about being away from home for that long, but I worked so hard on this album. I think it deserves something larger than life and to be enjoyed everywhere."
"We can do larger than life" Tecna nodded, turning her attention to her laptop to make a note that Musa couldn't see from her current angle. She wasn't about to lean over Tecna's shoulder to read the note either. That was something Andy had always done to her and she'd despised it; it always made her feel self-conscious about her writing.
"I'm gonna need to find more dancers, aren't I?"
"Probably, yes."
"The plan," Carmen continued, "is to start on the West Coast and work our way to the East Coast in time for Christmas. After that, it's up to Canada from east to west, Asia, New Zealand, Australia, Dubai, Europe and then home."
"Oooh, I've always wanted to see New Zealand" Tecna commented excitedly.
"That's gonna be a long ass flight, even from Asia." Tecna shrugged at Aisha's reminder, insisting that as long as she got to see the Lord of the Rings shooting locations, she didn't care. Even better, Tecna added, was that she got to visit New Zealand and get paid for being there. "I suppose you and I can go hiking while she does that" Aisha shrugged.
"No, come with me!" "I dunno, it might be interesting."
"Interesting? You fell asleep that time Tecna made us watch thefirst one!"
"The Fellowship of the Ring."
"I fell asleep because I'd barely slept in the week before that and trying to keep my attention on a three-hour long movie was basically impossible" Musa defended. She remembered that night. It was Tecna's birthday, barely more than a full month after Madison had overdosed. Musa hadn't slept much those days – 3 hours a night if she was lucky – choosing instead to bury herself in work. She had close to twenty notebooks of songs from those days, almost all of them heart-wrenchingly depressing. She'd not really wanted to go to Tecna's birthday sleepover, but she'd feel awful if she didn't show for one of her best friends. It had turned out to be a good thing Musa went. That had been the most restful sleep she'd had in weeks. Tecna had apparently insisted the girls keep quiet to not wake the singer, though Musa was certain she'd have slept through Stella screaming in her ear she was so tired.
"I hate to interrupt your trip planning" Faragonda interrupted, "what happens if Musa's still receiving letters at the time of the tour?"
"We've already considered that. Musa's movements will be on a need-to-know basis – only close inner circle and senior staff. Every hired hand will be required to sign a very complete NDA that Griselda is already working on, including not being able to disclose where they're staying or how they're traveling. Also, we were thinking…" Carmen's head turned towards Riven, who sat in the corner of the room happily reading a book and ignoring the ongoing conversation. Musa had realised two weeks earlier that her office bookshelves had been rearranged – not that she had much of an organization method to them to begin with. They were now ordered by author – she'd always just shoved them where she found space – with a good twenty, maybe more, books turned spine down. She'd questioned Riven about it and he'd informed her that it had irritated him that there was no organization to the shelves and that the downturned books were the ones he'd read. Had it been anyone else, she'd have been annoyed at them for taking the liberty of reorganizing her stuff, but with Riven it gave her a warm, bubbly feeling. He felt at home in her home.
Sensing two dozen eyes on him, Riven lifted his head. Some hairs broke free of his gel, landing on his forehead giving him a boyishly adorable look, combined with the curious wide eyes and pout, he was almost unbearably cute. He closed the book, saving the page with his index finger. "What?"
"Would you be willing to extend your contract through Musa's tour if necessary?" Faragonda questioned. Riven considered it momentarily, looking at Musa with an indecipherable expression. "Sure, as long as we do the Lord of the Ring site visits." Tecna chuckled victoriously, but Musa's own laugh was more for how cute he was with the shit-eating smirk he was giving her.
Her.
He wasn't looking at them. He was looking at her.
Her heart did cartwheels every time he looked at her and it was starting to be too much. She found herself craving his presence more and more with each passing day. All she wanted was to be near him constantly and, as much as she wanted the letters to stop, she somehow found herself dreading the day that happened because it would mean that he wouldn't be in her life anymore. He was dangerous.
"Excellent!" Faragonda announced, clapping her hands together. "I'll reach out to Saladin about extending your contract and tour rates."
Musa placed the plate in front of him. It was supposed to be his day to cook, but since he'd made her breakfast, Musa offered to take dinner off his hands. Riven couldn't refuse that – Musa was a good cook – even if he'd only made her breakfast because he knew that between the late night, the hangover (that he was sure she still had even if she denied it) and the nerves, she'd probably end up having junk food for breakfast and he didn't want that. He put down Musa's notebook from that afternoon – she wrote everything down, claimed it helped her process better – and pushed it aside to make space for the plate. "So, why such a long tour?"
"This album deserves it. And I love touring," she explained, taking a seat beside him at the island counter. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun and dug into the mashed potatoes on her plate. "I love performing and being on stage. The adrenaline is incredible."
"Must suck to be away from home for so long."
"It's not ideal. Living out of a suitcase, spending every other day on the road and sometimes never getting to see more of a city than the concert hall and the inside of a hotel room definitely takes its toll, but then there's also all the places you do get to see and the people you get to meet. I mean, getting to see the world and do what I love is what I spent most of my childhood dreaming about. It's worth the negative parts for me." Musa paused, a pensive, faraway look crossing her face. Her fork froze midair and she lowered it back down to the plate. "You don't have to take the contract extension if you don't want to."
"Do you not want me to?" he questioned. Riven had to admit that living in a suitcase and a series of hotel rooms didn't necessarily appeal to him. It seemed just a touch too close to homeless – something he'd already come close to after he and his ex had broken up. Then again, could it be considered anything even close if he was getting paid over a grand a day to be there and staying in expensive hotels. Plus, getting to see the world for free very much appealed to him. He couldn't complain about the company either.
"No! No. I'd much rather it be you than anyone else." Musa picked her fork back up, picking up some green beans and putting the fork back down before it reached her lips, tinted a beautiful shade of pink from the glass of red wine she'd poured herself. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to leave your whole life behind because of me."
His whole life? Besides Nabu and his job, there was nothing tying him to New York. Maybe Timmy? He did quite like Timmy. In another world, Darcy would've kept him here, but that tie was severed, and he had no intention of ever reviving it. Nabu, seeing how quickly he and Aisha had become inseparable, would almost certainly be flying out to visit them whenever the tour schedule – and his own – allowed him to. Riven had no doubt that Timmy would likely be flying out to visit Tecna too. That only left his job as a tie to New York. Protecting Musa was his job if he took the contract, leaving him with zero reasons to stay and one reason to go. He'd grown to really like her. She was a good person and a good friend. "I'd rather go than leave your safety in someone else's hands. I need to know you're okay." It wasn't that he didn't trust his coworkers, most of them were perfectly competent, he just knew the best way to ensure that something was done properly was to do it yourself. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her because he didn't want to live on the road.
Musa seemed surprised by the statement. Hadn't he made it clear he didn't hate her? Her eyes went momentarily wide, eyelashes batting like she had something in her eye. Once the sentence seemed to get through to her, a sweet smile found its way to her lips. Her eyes moved away from him onto her now empty plate. She mumbled an okay, picking up the plate and bringing it to the sink. The plate was dropped into the sink and Musa rested her hands against the side of the counter. "We'll probably have to share a room the whole time... you know, since it probably won't be possible to install security cameras in my room at every hotel."
Oh yeah… he hadn't considered that. That wouldn't be so bad, he thought. He just had to not watch her as much as he wanted to. Not that it was much of a conscious choice since his eyes just tended to gravitate towards her. It was lucky he had the job as an excuse to look at her. Like last night during the party when she and Aisha had been dancing. God, she was intoxicating when she danced and he'd been completely drunk on her. Dance rehearsals had gotten harder and harder to attend until he'd started reading through them. Every fucking time she swung her hips – or her fucking hair when it was long – he saw stars and wanted nothing more than to push her up against the wall. But as long as she didn't dance around their shared hotel rooms, he should be fine. "That's okay. I know that you don't snore loudly."
That got her to look at him. Blue eyes narrowed at him, a scowl etching on her face. Her eyes slowly widened. "Do you snore?"
"I don't think so. Darcy's a crazy light sleeper. She definitely would've complained about it." Heaven knows she wasn't afraid to complain about everything else he did wrong.
"Alright. Then I guess we'll be roommates instead of just hou-" Musa's sentence was cut off by the front door opening. Violet and blue eyes turned to look in the direction of the sound where Mirta was now announcing her presence. A burgundy head bobbed behind a giant bouquet of flowers into the room. Mirta placed the large bouquet on the counter and Riven briefly wondered if they were from Flora. It would be like her to send flowers for Musa's album release. Mirta excused herself momentarily before returning with another, slightly smaller bouquet.
"Okay" she huffed, commenting that bouquets were heavier than they seemed when you had to carry them all the way from the car. "Would you like the good news or bad news first?"
"Uh… good news?" Musa answered hesitantly. He looked between the singer and her assistant quickly, but his attention was drawn away by the thing he could barely see poking out of the top of Mirta's purse.
The corner of an envelope.
Fuck.
"The album is blowing up" Mirta announced happily. "Critic reviews are spectacular, and I've been checking your social like you asked, and people are raving about it! They love it!"
Musa let out a sigh of relief, a near delirious laugh of relief bubbling at the back of her throat. She breathed out an oh thank God that made Riven chuckle. He'd told her that people would love the album; if he had liked it, there was no way her die-hard fans wouldn't. Her smile grew wide, and a dazzling brightness overtook her every feature. She was breathtaking, stunning, spectacular, radiant, and every other word that could possibly be used in place of so beautiful it hurt. "See, I told you," he teased. Musa glared at him as she reached behind her to grab the rag that she'd been using earlier. She balled it up and tossed it at him, hitting him in the center of the chest. "Good aim."
"I played softball in high school" she replied, taking a half-bow. Riven took the opportunity presented to him to grab the rag from the spot it had landed on the counter in front of him and throw it back at her. He caught her on the way up, right in the neck. She laughed again, taking Riven's ability to think coherently away as her voice swirled through his ears and into every inch of him. That fucking laugh.
Mirta caught his eye, burgundy eyebrow raised curiously at the playful exchange between him and Musa. Riven quickly pulled his glance away from her digging eyes. Mirta didn't need to know he was attracted to Musa; she'd be so smug about it. She'd called him out on his attraction towards the singer on the day of that fucking photoshoot; the one that probably led to him being unable to take his eyes off her in the first place.
"Anyways, it's sold seven hundred thousand copies so far."
"Wait, really?" Riven questioned. "It's only been out for like six hours"
"I know! If it keeps this up, it'll break records for the most copies of an album sold in its first week."
"Holy fuck" Musa breathed roughly. Her hand went to her chest, clasping at her shirt. He knew that she hadn't expected it to sell anywhere near that well. Somehow, she'd managed to convince herself that people wouldn't like it no matter how much her entourage – friends, techs, managers, family, staff – tried to tell her otherwise. A feeling swelled in him that took him a few seconds to place. Pride.
He was proud of her.
She'd worked hard and she deserved every bit of good fortune that came her way.
"And the bad news?" Musa asked, sobering very quickly after the incredible news. Mirta gave her an apologetic look as she pulled her purse around to the front of her body and took out the letter that she'd wrapped in a plastic baggie. Musa gulped audibly, resting her hand on the counter to stabilize herself. She'd taken a step back, legs almost buckling underneath her. Riven was at her side in seconds, hand hovering behind her back, ready to catch her at a moment's notice.
"I don't want to read anymore of the letters. I don't… I know everything I need to know: he's delusional and disturbed." Mirta nodded understandingly. Riven couldn't blame her either. Just that she'd been willing to read the last one after its predecessor had threatened her father was enough, but after the last one she'd have to be masochistic to want to read anymore. The assistant turned to him, questioning whether he wanted to know what was in the letter. As much as he would prefer not to, he knew he needed to. He needed to know what to keep an eye out for. "Please tell me he didn't send flowers too?" Riven nodded towards the two bouquets.
"The smaller one is from me and Lucy. The larger was being delivered as I was getting to the door. The delivery guy had instructions to just leave it at the door but gave it to me since I was getting home, so I assume he had no idea who they were being delivered to." Mirta reached into the bouquet and pulled out a small pink card and read the note aloud. "I like sending flowers whenever people are celebrating something. I think this is reason enough to celebrate. The album is amazing! Lots of love, Flora. That's your friend, right, Riven? The Latina? How sweet of her."
"That is sweet of her" Musa agreed, smiling down at the two bouquets. From his place beside her, he could just make out that her hands were shaking gently and that she was obviously rattled by the arrival of a new letter. "And of you and Lucy too." Musa hugged her assistant, mentioning that she'd be upstairs and leaving the room as quickly as she could.
Once she was out of the room, Mirta pulled the box of gloves out of her purse and handed it to him. The letter followed along with a comment about how close he and Musa seemed to be getting. Riven glared at her as he unsealed the baggie and pulled the letter out, but his glare did little to deter Mirta. "It's a far cry from how much you used to hate each other. Or so you claimed."
"Or so we claimed?"
"Yeah, I'm just not convinced you ever hated each other all that much" she shrugged. Riven rolled his eyes at her, refusing to answer any questions about his relationship with Musa, and returned his attention to the small white envelope in his hand. He pulled the letter out carefully, almost as if he were afraid of something popping out, and read.
My angelic Musa,
A mere week and a half and I'll be free of the burden that is keeping me from you – my job. A mere week and a half and I can begin to be on my way to you. After that, my beloved, we can be together every day; wake up together, spend the days together, make passionate love and fall asleep together. I'll never leave your side and you'll never want me to. We can be each other's source of oxygen; of life.
I've dreamt of this for so many years. I've longed to tell you how much I love you, to hear you tell me you love me. That you long for me. That you would kill for me and beg me to be mine. But you, my love, you won't ever have to beg. I will love you every day in every way until you can't take it anymore. Even after that, I'll continue to love you, to make sweet love to you. I'll ravage you; I'll -
Riven stopped reading. He knew where the letter would go from here: into this creep describing how he would fuck Musa until she was bloody and bruised, and possibly even more graphic descriptions that he couldn't bear to read. It turned Riven's stomach to think about the fucked up fantasies that he'd put Musa in, and it angered Riven that the stalker had taken it upon himself to disrupt her life for his sick amusement.
He skimmed the rest of the letter, knowing he had to force himself in case any warnings were in it.
You're mine...
Breathtaking beauty...
Crying my name in pain and pleasure...
Just a little bit longer...
That bodyguard...
Here we go.
I know that bodyguard of yours is still around. I know your team thinks they're doing what's best for you, but they're wrong. I am what's best for you, and I don't like people keeping me from what's rightfully mine. Believe me, my pet, nothing will stop me from getting to you.
We'll be together soon enough and no one will stand in our way.
Always yours xxx
Musa dropped herself onto her bed with a thud. She hadn't made her bed that morning and the blanket bunched up under her back in an uncomfortable way. As much as the sensation annoyed her, she couldn't be bothered to get up and adjust. The news of a new letter had shaken her so much. Realistically, she knew that it would come eventually and that there would very likely be more after this one, but she'd hoped it would never happen; that if she just denied the existence of the letters firmly enough in her mind, that they would cease to exist.
Her legs had almost buckled under her. She almost fell as quickly as her heart had when Mirta pulled the envelope out. Musa had felt her heart drop into her stomach, felt the blood rush out of her and heard her heartbeat pound in her ears all at once. Never in her life had she considered herself cowardly – she could face situations that would make most people quake in their boots – but this... this made her feel a fear she never thought possible. It was one of her worst nightmares come to life.
And then... he'd been there. At her side with his arm behind her, preparing to catch her if her legs failed her. If anyone else had been there, she'd have tried more to hold strong or at least make it seem like she was, but he'd already seen her fall apart. He'd held her while she cried – a sensation she'd thought about more times than she could count since that night. She'd been so freaked out that she hadn't properly enjoyed his arms around her. Such a disappointment. Nevertheless, he'd comforted her and that knowledge made her feel like she was flying.
Try as she might to focus on positive thoughts – Riven, mostly – her mind kept wandering back to the letter. What was in it? What had he said? What threats had been made? Was it so bad it would turn her stomach and make her regret ever seeking fame? Or would he have calmed down and returned to the love letter types he'd started with?
Soon enough, thoughts of that damned fucking letter would drive her crazy. She needed to think about something else, and for that, she turned to the internet. Very specifically, the hundreds of messages that she'd ignored that day. Going through them was a lot, but it was exactly the type of large, energy-zapping task she needed right now.
Ashley F. (1:45 pm): I know I told you last night, but you are FIRE.
Ariana (1:57 pm): Once again, absolutely brilliant. I applaud you.
Bee (1:58 pm): Only gotten to listen to the first few songs, but they're incredible! I can't wait to hear the rest.
T-Swizz (2:36 pm): AMAZING. BRILLIANT. LOVE EVERY SECOND OF IT.
Harry (2:44 pm): Incredible writing, incredible vocals!
Stefani G. (2:58 pm): The album is wonderful. So proud of you! 3
Xtina (3:22 pm): Great job!
Riri (3:37pm): GIRL!
Biebs (3:45 pm): loving the album! Can't stop listening to influence.
Ed Sheer (4:01 pm): Phenomenal work!
Alec!a (4:36 pm): Fantastic album! So happy you're getting to do you.
She didn't manage to get through all of them before exhaustion took over and she dozed off. The ones she had gotten through, though, were enough to, combined with the news Mirta had shared, soothe her nerves about the fate of her album. It would do well and she wasn't going to lose everything she'd worked so hard and practically sold her soul for.
After Mirta had left last night, Riven had gone upstairs to check on Musa. He'd expected to find her a nervous wreck, but she was fast asleep. She was still in the same clothes she'd worn that day, lying on top of her covers cuddled up and likely trying to find heat. Her phone had dropped beside her and was teetering dangerously close to the edge of her bed. As much as he wanted to, he denied himself the opportunity to soak her in. Watching her sleep was just too fucking creepy for him. Instead, he moved her phone to the bedside table, got a spare blanket from the laundry room to cover her and went to bed.
He had a video meeting with Saladin scheduled for that morning. For such an old man, he was surprisingly apt with technology, though Riven suspected that was thanks to Timmy. When he'd first started for the company, he'd thought Saladin was so old that he'd communicate by homing pigeon.
Setting himself up at the desk in the office, Riven waited patiently for the old man to join the meeting. He could feel the music through the floor, though the soundproofing around the music room did a lot to keep the noise to a minimum. Aisha had arrived at 7:30 that morning, chipper as could be and ready to get to work. Musa – not close to the morning person that the dancer was – had had to be dragged into the room, grumbling about it being too fucking early for exercise.
"Good morning! I hear you'll be going on tour" Saladin greeted, jumping straight into one of the points of their meeting. His no-nonsense (or as no-nonsense as one could be when they were constantly cracking bad jokes) ways was one of the main reasons Riven loved working for him. There was no beating around the bush or subtly trying to get information; everything was blunt and straightforward.
"If needed, yes." Really, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He enjoyed Musa's company, and her immediate entourage was friendly enough that he wouldn't be completely miserable having to be around them a lot. Not forgetting the fact that he was basically being paid to travel and attend concerts for free, and all he had to do was not let anything happen to one person. Though that was starting to feel harder and harder to do.
"Surprising," Saladin laughed, "considering you weren't too keen on taking the contract in the first place."
"Yeah, well, things change" Riven shrugged. "That's not really what I wanted to talk to you about, though." Saladin raised his eyebrow, motioning for Riven to take the floor and explain what was on his mind. Calmly as he could considering it had kept him up half the night, Riven explained the most recent letter. The stalker was getting more intense, and it was starting to worry him. He wanted people. Keeping the situation under control in the condo was not an issue – the whole place was outfitted with multiple security systems and full camera monitoring – but out in public, he was only one person. Walking in front of her meant leaving her open from behind; walking behind her meant that he'd have to react incredibly fast to stop someone coming at her from the front. For now, he'd taken to walking on the outside of the street beside her, figuring that if something was going to happen, it was much more likely to be from the street than from the sidewalk. "I just don't think I can keep her safe on my own right now..."
Saladin paused but Riven knew exactly what he was thinking: how unlike him to be admitting to needing help. And it was. Anyone that knew even the slightest bit about him knew two things: he was incredibly stubborn and proud, and he hated working in groups. Sometimes, though, exceptions had to be made. This was one of those times. "I don't want anything to happen to her" Riven explained, prompted by the unspoken question that lingered on the old man's face.
"I'm happy to see you taking your job so seriously. It's sweet how much you seem to genuinely care about Musa."
"Just doing my job."
The way Saladin smiled at him led Riven to believe that the old man didn't quite believe him, but he didn't let on to it. Instead, he simply nodded and agreed to find more people to guard Musa.
Musa sat on the couch mindlessly watching daytime television and eating her toast. Aisha had left an hour earlier after a grueling morning and Riven was locked in the office doing something. She'd poked her head in before, but he'd been in a meeting with Saladin. When she'd gone up, she'd been hoping to spend time with him, but had obviously been disappointed by unavailability. It was beginning to feel pathetic how much she wanted him around her when he only saw her as a paycheck and, on a generous day, an acquaintance. She couldn't help it, though. He made her feel giddy and fluttery in a way that no one had in years, not since Madison.
"So, Saladin is going to find extra security for you" Riven announced as he entered the living room and took a seat beside her on the couch. "Tonight will still be just me, so will the next few days but hopefully he should have more people soon."
Musa didn't understand why she needed more security. Riven, in her opinion, did the job more than adequately. Until now, she'd been one of few celebrities who rarely used bodyguards. She'd just never thought that some beefed up moron could make her all that much safer. And while she wouldn't call Riven a moron by any stretch, he had proven her completely wrong about not feeling safer with someone there to keep her safe. But more of them... "Where are they going to sleep?"
"At home. They're only for when you go anywhere. In the apartment will still be the two of us." She couldn't help the breath of relief that escaped. She'd barely wanted Riven here when he first started but had grown to love his presence; she didn't want anyone else around ruining the dynamic they had away from prying eyes.
"Why the extra security?" Musa questioned. Riven rested his elbows on his knees and took a deep breath. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and his eyes bore over every inch of wall. He didn't need to answer; she knew. She put her plate on the coffee table and twisted her body around to face him. "The letter? That bad?"
"You really wanna know?"
It took a mere moment of contemplation to decide that she didn't. As a general rule, she liked to be informed of everything going on around her – especially when it involved her – but it was just better for her mental health if she didn't get all the information surrounding her stalker. Not knowing is how she would stay sane.
"I hate him so much" she muttered after gently shaking her head no. "He gets to build up this twisted fucking fantasy in his head, which is bad enough. But then to subject me to it, like I'm going to jump into his arms when he – if he – ever presents himself to me. He decides that he..." She was rambling, she knew it. She couldn't help it. It had all seemed like an overreaction to some stupid joke at first, but it quickly became all too real. She didn't talk about him to anyone, only ever acknowledging his existence when she was directly confronted with it; it was too much otherwise. Every time she thought about him, she felt like she was suffocating. "...and to threaten the people I love, I mean, what the fuck?! How did he even know that I was going to see my dad? The only people that know shit like that are my friends, you and Mirta. Has this fucking weirdo been secretly standing outside my window every night? Is he psychic? Did he like fucking hack my phone or something? Like, I just don't fucking ge-"
"Motherfucker" Riven hissed suddenly, dropping his hand onto the couch with a dramatic slap. "He hacked your goddamn phone. Why the fuck didn't we think of that?!"
Musa could only blink in response.
"You're brilliant, you know that?" He told her before getting up and running out to call Timmy. Musa was left sitting dumbly on the couch, somewhere between shock at the outburst, blushing at the compliment and frustrated at the situation.
Timmy had made his way to the apartment within an hour of Riven calling him and demanding he come over. The tech genius been just as frustrated as him at their completely skipping over the possibility of a hacker. It seemed so obvious in retrospect. Musa's photos and videos had been transferred onto Timmy's drive and her phone had been wiped. She would get a new one, set up and protected by Timmy, the next day. Her computer would also be changed as precaution. Everyone that had immediate contact to Musa – her close friends, family, assistant, manager, team members and himself – would all have to change phones and numbers too. Passwords to everyone's email and social media accounts would be changed as well.
She hadn't been happy about the hassle. She'd complained about it most of the ride to the studio but hadn't argued when Riven reminded her that it was necessary. With the exception of Aisha, who was being told tonight, her friends would be invited over next week to be informed of the required change. She would have to drop in for a surprise visit to her father and Faragonda would handle informing everyone else on Musa's team. They'd made the decision, without Musa's consent, that all precautions should be taken. There was no doubt in any of their minds that this creep would go to ridiculous extent to get his foothold back.
Musa stepped up to the mic – she was the musical guest for some late night show – nodding to the stage manager over and over. Riven knew her facial expressions well enough to know that Musa was getting irritated with the woman. Not that he could blame her; from what little he'd overheard of their conversation, the woman seemed to think it was Musa's first time doing this. Pop culture had never been his thing, but even he'd known who Musa was. The only logical explanation for this woman to not know who Musa was was that, up until last year, she'd been living under a rock or in the woods away from society.
A piano started to play in the background. Even though the first single from the album was an upbeat R&B song, he knew she'd chosen to do a slowed version of it that would transition into the original up-tempo one. He was, even he couldn't believe it, excited to see her sing. Besides when she would sing along to songs while she cooked, Riven had never heard her sing live. The kitchen shows, in his opinion, didn't count because there was always the sound of the actual singer over hers, ruining the 'concert', and when she'd been recording, he'd had no interest in hearing her.
Musa opened her mouth to sing and Riven swore he saw stars. Her voice, rich and warm, wrapped him up in a velvet blanket and soothed him in ways he never thought possible. It carried him off on a soothing ride to a world where everything felt right, like that day they'd spent hour lying side by side and just existing, safe from all the horrible things and people in the world. He would kill to be there; to spend the day alone with her; watch her smile and hear her laugh. There would just be one small change: he'd ask her to sing to him so that the day could truly feel like heaven. Just the two of them, alone in their private paradise.
Oh fuck.
Flora was right.
He loves her.