The Publicist

Come Correct Part 1

**** Comments will be up in the next chapter. Trying to give folks a chance to read and put them in. I divided everyone who commented in groups, so if I didn't send you a dm yesterday , I will get to you in future chapters. There will be plenty opportunity trust me****

JAZMINE P.O.V. -

There was a knock at my door. I was preparing to get ready to go to breakfast with Devin.

We had a really great time last night at this bar just having drinks, talking and laughing. He was a really cool dude. I learned that he had been playing the drums since the age of 3.

And he actually went to Julliard one of the top performing arts school's in the country.

Unlike August, relationship talk didn't scare him and he was actually looking forward to a real relationship, which I loved.

and on top of that chile he was absolutely gorgeous. Like oh my God, he was beyond fine as hell and although deep down I wanted August, I wasn't going to wait on him.

"Go away." I yelled at the door. Knowing who it was. He had blown my phone up all last night.

You are NOT my nigga. You made that perfectly clear. Go the fuck away.

"Open up the door Jazz." He knocked.

I tried to ignore him, but he made that hard.

"I ain't leaving till you open the door."

I sighed and open the door.

"Where you going?" He just waltzed in uninvited.

"To mind my business." I closed the door.

"How was your little date?"

"Perfect actually." I went back to the mirror to finish putting on my makeup.

Aug sat at the edge of the bed watching me.

"It's not a good idea to date a musician. Especially someone on the road all the time."

Is he serious? 😒

"August goodbye."

"I'm telling you these niggas be out here fucking anybody and everybody on the road."

Like you? This tea is pretty hot.

"And then half of em' be having girlfriends at home. That nigga probably already got a girl."

"He doesn't."

"How do you know?"

"He told me and I believe him." I said still putting my makeup on.

"Jazz, I'm trying to put you on game. I know these niggas."

"Why are you really here August?"

"That's why. To keep my friend from getting hurt."

"Well I appreciate it. But one thing you are not..." I turned around to him.

"Is my man. So that means you have no right to question me, my whereabouts, who I choose to and not to spend my time with. Stop blowing up my phone. Stop coming to my door. Stop trying to put me on "game".

Unless it's about the things we signed a contract for. You don't own me. And until you can come correct about how you really feel, miss me with the passive aggressive bullshit. Good day."

I waved to him in the mirror and went back to doing my make up.

He stood up and came over to me. "First off I don't know who the hell you think you talking to, but it ain't me. That's the shit that nigga's slapped. Don't come at me like that."