Trey Songz is a superstar with everything he could ever want.
Meanwhile Carmen is a lonely and depressed Fashion stylist who barely wants to continue breathing.
What happens when their complicated history with each other and careers brings them ba...
The text about an emergency brunch startled me out of my nap. My family's really close so we see each other at least twice a week. Being distracted with auditions and thing I haven't been around my family much lately. Which gives reasons for the emergency.
I stumbled upon the other part of my life a month ago and met my biological sister a week after. From there things seemed weird. I've been so intrigued with knowing about this part of my life that's was hidden that I haven't thought much about anything else. I could research as much as time would allow me but I had so many questions that no one around me could answer.
Carmen may know but from what I've seen she doesn't speak much. My parents don't know that I know and most of my mother's family has died.
There's not much I can do but eventually see what my parents know. Or at lease why they hid it from me. •••
"My Brookie's home!" My mom exclaimed all while smothering me. The affection that's I've grown to adore seemed a bit different. The energy wasn't as high as it normally is. I figured she was upset for me going ghost for a while so I shrugged it off and ventured to the dinning room.
My seven siblings were already sitting and chatting amongst themselves. I watched them from the doorway.
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Lucas is the oldest, leading at 27. Rayne and Danielle are three years younger. Ryan a year after them and Charles a year after him. Noelle's a year behind him and a month older than Greg. Then two years later Abigail, Porsha and I were born back to back.
As stupid as it probably sounds I never thought about the possibility of them being adopted. We were raised without color and cultures, which was fine while we were at home. But left us with a disadvantage when we were in public.
We're raised by a high class white couple from Indiana, Francis and Taylor Mason. They weren't bad parents at all and I knew I was loved. It just would've been nice to grow up with some of my history and not just the history that they gave me. My siblings although black, Indian and Latino grew up as though we were white. It wasn't til we were grown that it sunk it that we weren't and the harsh reality we dealt with constantly reminded us.
Dad greeted us as he always did, smiling and hi fiving on the way to his chair.
It wasn't as much conversation going on, it threw the mood off. When my brothers get around my dad they're loud and rambunctious. Today they sat to themselves as if they weren't allowed to talk.
"Hey Brooke." I looked over at Ryan. "How's being on your own so far?"
