Notes: Thank you to team Blackbird: Midnight Cougar, Music Daydreams, Paige Edwards and Lizzie Paige. Between the five of us, we're a power house . . . times 23.
Blackbird
Chapter 5
. . . . .
The dress looked like something an Egyptian queen might have worn.
The mini skirt was skin-tight white satin that went up past Bella's waist to brush at the bottom of her breasts. The top was nothing but gold, thick-link chains that were to be draped across her chest. A few months ago when she'd discussed the outfit with her team, it had seemed like a great idea. Now, she wasn't so sure.
Angela placed two wide squares of fashion tape across her nipples, then ran strips of the tape across her shoulders. Next, she began draping chains around Bella's neck and shoulders, arranging them strategically across her chest and back like necklaces. The chains fell in gradual lower lengths as they moved downward, with the lowest chain curving all the way to mid-thigh. To hide her breasts, Angela attached a small circlet of chains at Bella's shoulders, which hung down her back and chest like unwound scarf ends.
A thick banded, matching bracelet had five strands of chain that dangled from the cuff all the way down to the floor; she'd have to hold her wrist up to keep them from dragging. Gold shoes and a dainty ankle bracelet completed the outfit.
There was no denying it was visually striking, but the chains were cumbersome and heavy. Bella felt weighed down, almost awkward and unbalanced.
"How am I supposed to move in this?" Bella asked Angela with a laugh. It was a good thing they'd styled her hair in an updo, otherwise it would have gotten horribly tangled in all the chains.
"Carefully," Angela replied. "This is good tape, though. We'll make sure it holds the chains in place before you leave."
"Probably a good idea," Bella murmured. As it was, the entire inner side of both her breasts were visible. It looked like if she moved too quickly, the chains would separate and reveal her nipples.
"This wouldn't be possible if you were any bigger," Angela said as she adjusted the chains over Bella's left shoulder.
"Damn." Bella laughed. "Of all the reasons to wish I had bigger breasts."
Angela's mouth gaped. "But, Bella! This dress is killer. You're going to be a knock-out."
Bella would have rather been comfortable, but she was sanguine enough to realize the name of the game on the red carpet was the wow factor. Thank God L.A. was warm, otherwise she'd freeze; hard nipples and chains draped across them probably didn't go well together.
Once Angela finished, Bella jumped and jiggled, trying to move the chains out of place. Amazingly, nothing attached to the tape moved.
"Damn, I hope this stuff doesn't take my nips off," she said, and Angela winced.
Great. It looked like she'd have to do her dance routine in front of thousands with stinging nipples.
. . .
Edward couldn't help feeling a bit nervous as the limo pulled up to the Staples Center. There were so many people, which always presented safety concerns. But also, because he'd never been on the arm of a celebrity before, and because Bella was going to announce their relationship status.
"Only if you're comfortable with it," she'd said after raising the idea.
Edward was glad Bella was finally getting better at considering his wishes and including him in her plans.
"I don't see how we could hide it at this point," he'd admitted, although it was still a shock to find his face on a tabloid magazine at the grocery store. He'd never get used to that.
"Well, we also don't have to flaunt it if you don't want to," she'd explained. "You could wait for me in the auditorium. Skip the photographers?"
"Probably a good idea," Bella's mother had mentioned. Sitting across from them, her disapproval was loud; but she'd been icily silent up until then.
Leave Bella to face the photographers alone? Edward's body had tensed at the thought. "No, I'll stay with you."
He couldn't care less what Bella's mother wanted. Dressed in all black, Edward had learned her name was Renee, and that she acted as Bella's manager. Unfortunately, that meant she went wherever Bella did.
Bella had bitten her lip, burnt cinnamon eyes nervous as she considered him. "And smile for them?"
"I'll do my best," he'd said and kissed away her trepidation.
Of course, now that they were there and he could hear the noise of people outside the limo, his gut clenched with nerves.
Sensing his discomfort, Bella kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand before she climbed out of the car. When Renee motioned him ahead of her brusquely, Edward followed Bella. The roar of noise increased at his presence, which took him by surprise.
Trailed by Renee, they stepped onto a red runner that led to a maze of strategically placed, tall hedges. The crowd was several yards away, being held back by matching red event rope and security people. Edward was relieved there were no annoying camera flashes going off in their faces, that there were no paparazzi yelling at them.
"Oh wow, they must be together after all," he heard someone say.
Bella paused to smile and wave at her fans behind the security ropes, then led Edward to the maze entrance. As he'd done when he'd seen her startling, revealing attire, he gave the artificial greenery a skeptical glance.
"It's so I can make a grand entrance on the other side," she told him with a self-deprecating smile. "That's where the photographers are waiting. Ready?"
He put his game face on. "As I'll ever be."
Hands clasped, they stepped through the maze, following the turns, before coming to the exit that brought them to a large, surrounding arena of raised platforms that held people and TV cameras. The small crowd of reporters just ahead of them instantly raised their cameras as they spotted Bella.
"Stay here a moment," Bella murmured.
Edward and Renee waited at the corner of the hedge as Bella waded over in front of the people with their cameras. As they descended upon her, shutters clicking and raised voices demanding her attention, his hands balled into fists. The surprising fervor he felt from them was pure madness—as if they'd consume her wholly if given a chance. He'd never get used to the Hollywood craziness. Never would want to, honestly.
After a few moments, Bella turned and reached out a hand for him, and he disguised a wince as a smile when he walked over to her. Sensing fresh meat, the men behind the cameras aimed them his way.
"Officer Hero, can you smile for me?"
"Are you here to keep Isa from falling again?"
"How do you feel about Isa?"
Edward smiled—at least it felt like it—and ignored their comments as Bella had. It felt like being the star attraction at a parade; like being put into a glass box and studied as if he was a science specimen. Bloodless and cold. How Bella did this on a regular basis eluded him, but he suspected her loneliness and vulnerability was due in part to this type of frantic circus, and contributed to her recent breakdown. He didn't think Bella liked it, either, no matter what her outer countenance suggested. She was just moving and acting as she'd been trained to do.
Next, they walked toward a woman dressed in a blue sequined dress holding a microphone with the ET logo on it. Behind the woman, aimed at their faces, was a huge spotlight that Edward tried to ignore. A man standing behind a TV camera turned it their way, following Bella's progress as she moved toward them.
"Oh my goodness," the woman exclaimed as Edward helped Bella up to the small stage. "It's the girl I've been waiting for. Hi, Isa. You look fabulous. And this dress, wow!"
Again, Edward hung back with Renee. They might have been strangers as they stood there, both of them studiously ignoring the other.
"Thank you," Bella said, then turned to the TV camera. "You might wanna tell your cameraman to keep the camera on my face. I don't want you guys getting sued by the FCC."
The woman laughed in response. "It looks like we're all gonna be in trouble tonight, with this dress."
Then, the ET host projected a serious expression. "But on everybody's mind, really, is how you're doing," she said, and Edward almost scowled. He regretted that his presence there wouldn't help anyone forget Bella's balcony fall. And as Renee shifted beside him, he was certain she shared his thought.
"I'm great." Bella was calm, smooth, upbeat. "And I'm excited about tonight."
Then the ET host was looking at Edward. "I see you brought your guardian angel with you. So, are you gonna keep her from falling again tonight?" she asked him.
Bella turned, holding her hand out for him. Edward noted the hopeful plea in Bella's eyes. With a sigh, he took a step into the camera's range.
Fuck it, just smile.
The ET host's grin widened as she stared at him. "Ohhhhh. What's this?"
Bella's fingers tightened around his. "He's my date."
Lifting her hand to her chest, the ET host appeared surprised. "Wait a minute. So, is this an ET exclusive right now? You're confirming the rumors?"
Bella turned briefly to gaze adoringly at him, and he felt his lips twitch. "Yes."
"Well, you are truly living the fairy tale," the host gushed at Bella.
If Edward had been the type to roll his eyes, he'd have done so at that comment. Hollywood certainly had a skewed idea of what a fairy tale life was, because it certainly wasn't Bella's.
"I know you have a busy night," the host continued. "So off you go with your date!"
Edward smiled through a few more interviews as they made their way down the line of the iHeart concert sponsors and hosts, appreciating how Bella seemed to sail through the innuendos and questions. He was pleasantly surprised and proud at her easy poise. She was every inch the polished popstar as she charmed the CW host, traded quips with the Clear Channel people, and high-fived the young Elle interviewer.
Once they entered the auditorium, a man wearing a microphone headset directed them backstage.
"I have makeup and a costume change," Bella explained as they walked along a curving hallway. "But I want you to hang around and go on stage with me."
Edward gave her a heavy look of askance and Bella laughed. "Not on stage, but in the wings, I mean. Okay?"
"That, I can do," he told her, and pressed a quick kiss on her still-smiling lips.
Before she entered her dressing room, Bella turned to Renee, who raised a finger. "I'll be right there," Renee told Bella.
Bella nodded, glanced again at Edward with a wink, then disappeared through the door to his left.
Edward folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, feeling Renee's stare. The hallway was full of celebrities and their teams. One of them, a young platinum-haired woman whose face looked familiar, but who he couldn't identify, briefly pulled Renee's attention away from him.
"Hi, Renee. I'm really looking forward to Isa's performance tonight."
Renee smiled for the first time. "Hello, Miss Lavigne. Yes, I think it's going to be amazing," she replied in an upbeat tone.
Then Miss Lavigne looked at Edward. "Hi, Officer Hero," she drawled playfully.
Edward hid a smile as the woman turned to enter her own dressing room, knowing that Renee had her icy gaze focused on him.
"Officer Hero," she repeated derogatorily and spun to face him fully.
Edward wasn't used to meeting Renee's stare head-on, and almost did a double take at the sight of her burnt cinnamon eyes. Bella's eyes. Only cold and detached, and set in an older face stiff with disapproval. Renee might have been attractive otherwise, but the seeming pressures of her job, and her blatant displeasure, took a toll on her appearance.
"Let me tell you something," she began almost conversationally. "This thing between you and Bella, whatever it is, isn't good for her."
This should be interesting, he thought. A healthy relationship wasn't good for Bella? "How so?"
"When people see you two together, they see her back on that balcony," Renee said, framing her tone as if it was the worst thing ever, and couldn't Edward just see the damage he was doing?
He kept his expression neutral. "So . . . Kid Culprit, he'd be better for her?"
"Well, he doesn't throw her off her game. You do."
Unbelievable. What game was she referring to? Bella's job? It was a sad realization for him, again, that Bella's mother didn't know the first thing about what Bella needed psychologically or emotionally.
"I saved her life," he reminded her.
"You're a cop," she stressed. "Isn't that sort of your job?"
"What about your job?" he fired back, straightening to his full height. He wanted to shake her until a semblance of motherly instinct returned. "If I had a daughter, especially one as amazing as that one, I'd get her some help," he murmured. No one was close enough to hear them, but he didn't want to take any chances of eavesdropping.
Renee dropped all pretense of congeniality. "You've been screwing her for five minutes. You think you've got her all figured out?" She made a face that suggested Edward was an idiot. "Seven thousand people out there are about to start screaming her name. I promise you, that's all the help she needs."
Her assertion metaphorically rocked him back on his heels, but then he realized it was the manager he was facing, not the mother. Good God, how could he reach the mother inside? Was she even still there? It seemed as if Renee was a perfect dragon of a manager for Bella, but had given the nurturing side of herself a burial.
"I'm not talking about her job, I'm talking about your daughter," he told her. "Bella clearly has issues she needs to talk about. And, the longer you ignore them, the bigger they're going to get. She needs help now."
"Oh, so now you're a cop playing at being a shrink? That's enough," Renee said dismissively. "I don't need you to tell me about my own daughter."
As if she was being chased, she ran for the door Bella had disappeared behind, leaving Edward stunned.
He raked his fingers through his hair and spun around in the hallway, not sure what he was looking for. Jesus, he'd met people in denial before, but Renee was in a class by herself. The fact that she had so much influence over Bella's life worried him. Her mother had sheltered and indoctrinated Bella well, because Bella also believed she didn't need help. Or, she was afraid of it.
In the end, all he could do was continue to be there for her, and to nudge her gently toward getting some help.
. . .
Butterflies were having a field day in Bella's stomach. Her hand shook as she smoothed the hair away from her face, and she felt herself quivering deep inside. She was always nervous before performing, but this time was different. So much was riding on tonight's performance.
Got to change that balcony narrative.
Laurent and Brave Records would be watching her with critical eyes, judging her every move and word. If they didn't like what they saw, it was entirely possible they wouldn't release her album. If that happened, her career was probably over.
Under the little beige trench coat she wore tied-closed, she was only in panties and a bra. Already feeling vulnerable, she was anxious because part of the dance routine involved having the coat removed. She also realized she wasn't sure how Edward was going to react; her routine wasn't something they'd discussed.
"It'll look sexy and play well with the song," Jonas, the dance choreographer, had told her.
When had she ever thought that was okay? Why hadn't she spoken up at their last rehearsal?
The breath she took was ragged, so she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly until her breathing smoothed out. It was too late now; she had to let it go. She had to be on it and strong. This performance had to wow.
Her attention caught as she heard the iHeart concert host talking about her and Kid. Bella took another big breath, adjusting her mouthpiece. Alongside her, Dani, Elaine, Brenn, and Tori, her backup singer-dancers wearing their own trench coats, took their positions, and Bella did the same.
"They hit it big last month at the Billboard Music Awards with Masterpiece, and if I know music, which I think I do, it looks like this next song could be on the same number one track. Here they are now, Kid Culprit and Isa!"
The music began.
Bella strode out onto the dark stage with attitude, flanked in synchronicity by her dancers. The lighting and set decorations portrayed nighttime. There were two spotlights: one on her, and one on Kid, who was a few yards away on a bed, aiming a video camera at her. She knew the images he was taking could be seen on the screen behind her.
"Lah, lah, lahhhh," she sang, and went into the provocative moves that were second nature now.
"I'll go whenever you press play,
pause whenever you want, babe.
Do whatever you want, babe.
Make love whenever you want to."
She dipped down low, sprang back up, cupped her crotch, then ran her hands up her stomach to grab her breasts, all to the beat of the music.
"This boy got so much dirt on me.
I swear if he was the sex police,
he could lock this bitch up for the century.
This boy got so much dirt on me.
I swear, if he sold me out,
where could I go?"
Kid continued aiming the video camera her way, getting more dirt, as her moves grew even more suggestive.
She swung into the song's chorus, the dancers singing along with her, while they all moved simultaneously in a dirty pantomime of sex.
"Keep my property private.
Between me and you,
they ain't gotta know what we do.
Keep my property private."
Bella began to crawl on the floor toward Kid and the bed, eyes locked with the camera, playing it up. The dancers playfully dragged her backward, and she stood, going into the routine again, and while all of it was second nature and easy, it also wasn't feeling so easy for her anymore.
She tensed as Dani and Brenn tugged on her coat. They were supposed to open it and toss it aside, revealing her with a flourish, but she just couldn't let them do it. Shrugging them away, she continued with the routine and song.
"Keep my property private.
Don't want them all up in my business,
affecting me me me."
The next few moves had her moving toward the bed and Kid, setting him up for his part of the song.
"Mmmm, don't stop until you finish,
So bad it feels like I'm sinning.
So God, please forgive me
for what I'm 'bout to do."
She mounted him on the bed and pushed him prone. As she was singing, he brought a hand up to the knot around her coat.
"Treat me like your object,
Please baby, don't stop it."
She fought his grip, didn't let him untie it.
"You say no,
I say yes,
the best I ever had."
And they were fighting right then and there, him trying to undo the knot, and her trying to stop him. When he was unsuccessful, he sprang up from the bed and strode to the center of the stage, leaving her behind as he began to rap his lines.
"She a git it girl.
And I been waiting for a minute, girl.
I'm going straight to dessert,
no dinner, girl."
Out of routine and heart racing, Bella followed, using her dance steps to move over to him. Fortunately, he allowed her to pick back up with the routine. He caught her up in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, then he carried her back to the bed.
Only instead of laying her down, he fell atop her. Then they were fighting over the coat again, and as she continued to block his attempt to undo the knot, he pushed her flat back against the bed. In disbelief, Bella saw him glance deliberately over to the right side of the stage, and then he was bending back down over her. He moved his face over her crotch, spreading the trench coat, then ran his nose up her body.
"What are you doing?" She mouthed at him as she fought to sit up.
"In it a couple hours,
I ain't even finished, girl.
And I'mma keep it private,
As long as you let me hit it, girl."
As he jumped back off her, Bella stood, surreptitiously fixing the coat that had come loose during their struggles, and continued with her part of the song. He'd moved back to center stage, leaving her behind and out of routine again as he bit out his words.
"Bet they don't know
that you a sinner, girl.
But you picture perfect,
don't worry 'bout that image, girl."
Shaken to her core, Bella danced back to him, continuing to sing her chorus line with the backup performers. Her words were coming out a bit thin, and she took hold of herself. Using her anger, she resumed the routine fiercely, knowing the steps were probably exaggerated, but uncaring.
As she briefly dropped down to his feet to perform her moves, he caught her head and brought it to his crotch as he rapped the next lyrics.
"I got this pretty little thang on lock
This pretty little thang on lock."
It infuriated her, and she leaped out of his grasp, all pretenses of dancing and singing abandoned. He caught her again, restrained her, holding her to his body as she struggled to get free.
"Hey, hold up," he said into his microphone. "Hold up, man. Let me set the record straight."
The music cut off abruptly.
"See, I ain't been getting cheated on, you heard? I cut her off. That's why she took that sky dive off the balcony."
Bella was lightheaded. "What are you doing?"
In answer, he yanked at and untied the knot holding her coat closed, then began dragging it down her arms. As she pulled away from him, he ripped it almost entirely off her body, spinning her around in the process. When she finally found her bearings and turned around to look at him in horror, he was no longer looking at her.
"You see Officer Hero right here? He's just getting my sloppy seconds!"
As Kid grabbed at his crotch, Bella heard laughter. Hot and cold in fear and shock, she cradled the coat against her chest.
"Damn right," someone said.
"What's up, man?" Kid asked Edward, who was suddenly standing right beside her.
Her heart began banging in her head as the two men stood there staring at each other. Kid was cocky and unrepentant as he met Edward's stony gaze.
"She just with you to keep you quiet," Kid told him.
Edward grasped her arm and began pulling her off stage, keeping his gaze aimed at Kid.
"Dead silent," Kid added. "Man, you know that bitch is a freak!"
That was when Edward lost it.
Releasing Bella, he lunged at Kid with a closed fist. Kid went down hard, skidding on his ass across the stage as the audience screamed and cheered.
Then Kid's team bum-rushed Edward, and Edward went down under the huddle of them.
Bella felt her mother's hands clasping her bare shoulders, her nails digging, but she barely felt it.
. . .
His father met Edward outside the building. "Kid decided not to press charges," he began, his eyes cool and face tense. "Something about not wanting to be perceived as the sore loser."
Edward made a sound. Wasn't that already a foregone conclusion?
"So, you're a thug now," his father bit out.
Here it comes.
"You're feeling your Wheaties because you're banging a superstar."
Edward's teeth clenched. "I was defending her."
"You threw the first punch," his father fired back. "That's not self-defense."
"I didn't say it was self-defense. I said I was defending her."
His father shook his head, uncaring about the difference. "You just got into a brawl with a rapper on national TV. Is that how you expect to gain the respect of the pastors?"
Edward didn't bother replying. Right now, he couldn't care less about anyone's respect. Although he was a bit shocked at his own behavior; the only thing he'd have changed would have been to get in a few more punches. Kid Culprit was a delinquent piece of trash.
He flexed his stiff hand, remembering the punch with satisfaction.
"That crazy broad has got you all–"
"Don't call her that," Edward growled, straightening from his slouch and going stiff all over. His father didn't know the first thing about what Bella was going through, damn it. He had no right to judge her. Edward didn't feel inclined to educate him, either; it was likely his father still wouldn't understand.
His father took a few steps back, then raised his arms. "It's your life, Edward," he said succinctly. "Get your head out of your ass before you throw it away."
Edward saw red again. He was sick and tired of his father trying to manipulate him.
"Why don't you just go get your own life, all right? So you don't have to worry so much about mine," Edward ground out, and left him there.
. . .
The numbness still hadn't worn off.
Bella could feel how wide her eyes still were. In the car on the way home, she'd barely felt Edward's arms around her. Later, when they were alone, he'd tried to get her to talk, but Bella's words had dried up with her emotions.
It was better that way. Better not to feel anything if that life was ending.
After Edward left to feed Jake and get a change of clothes, Bella walked on deadened feet to the back house where her mother lived. It was dark out, late, but time seemed to have no meaning. Still, she didn't want to be alone. A small part of her—the glutton for punishment—was curious about how her mother was handling the fallout.
Her mother's office was located in a room just inside the front door, and Bella heard her voice as soon as she stepped inside the house. "It could just be a non-story tomorrow," her mother was saying in a wheedling tone.
Bella sat gingerly beside her on the couch, but her mother didn't acknowledge her. For some reason, the more upset her mother became while listening to the other voice on the phone, the more numb Bella became.
"You're being hasty! He's the one who blew it!"
Nothing like an embarrassing performance on stage to make them run screaming.
"Oh, come on, Laurent, please."
After a moment, her mother dropped the phone onto the coffee table with a clang. Immediately, it began vibrating with another call.
Bella spoke her first word in hours. "Mom?"
She watched her mother's head shake in denial, then her face turned Bella's way. For the first time in years, Bella saw that her eyes held dejection. Her mother was giving up? But she never gave up.
"Congratulations," she said in a heavy monotone. "You're a goddamn cliché."
Which meant it was over.
Bella felt the dart hit home in her heart, but it was dull.
Everything was over.
. . .
