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( CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: DION BREAK ) May, 1993
❝ devon emmet, the actor?❞
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Devon flashed an entrancing smile at the doorman, sauntering through the glass door with an illumining gaze. He tucked a laminated folder underneath his defined bicep, eagerly retracing the many mind-blowing ideas he jotted down earlier that day. The strangers that passed him by shot him perplexed glances as Devon muttered words to himself, but their stares didn't bother him, not when he's been receiving unwanted attention for these past few weeks.
The young dancer thoughtthat the tabloids would've settled down by now, but every single day a new magazine came out with his face smeared across the front page. And oh, the headlines were laughable. Every single gossip columnist wanted dirt on, quote on quote, 'Janet Jackson's new scandalous lover'. What was so enthralling about him? He was still searching for the answer to that question.
Even as Devon walked through the clear, illustrious headquarters of MCA Records—a record company that managed the cream of the crop in the entertainment industry—hewas still receiving the most stares. These people probably heard so many stories about him in the papers, so many echoes and rumours about his dangerouspersona, and it was hysterical.
Just yesterday, a three-page feature savagely explained that Janet Jackson's boyfriend was involved in an underground drug ring. By now, Devon would've thought that every skeleton in his closet would've been fixated on, but apparently, the media did no such thing. Instead, they chose to make up exaggerated liesabout him, and oddly enough, he preferred it that way.
But right now, Devon didn't want to think about the nasty headlines and crude gossip. If he did, he'd go insane. He wanted to focus on his scheduled meeting with Bobby Brown, the entertainer having contacted him in midst of the media shitstorm Devon was currently experiencing. And Devon had to admit, it was a refreshing diversion.
It was comforting to know that his satisfying partnership with Bobby Brown would stand the test of time, despite whatever demons were chasing him into rusted corners of his life. "Sorry brother," Devon muttered, his shoulder ploughing into someone's wonky chest, so immersed in his own vibrant imagination that he hadn't taken note to his surroundings.
The random person didn't respond to Devon's apology, and just as the dancer stepped forward to continue his trek towards the meeting place that Bobby chose, he heard the steep snap of a camera. Devon's head darted upwards, eyes popping wide open once he saw a man shoving a lens into his face.
A white light blindly flashed before Devon's eyes, the alarming glare causing for Devon's dumbfounded gaze to clench shut. "What the fuck man?!" Devon growled, blinking repetitively to soften the dark shapes that were clogging his vision. Devon fluttered his eyes open, ready to cuss out the anonymous cameraman with rising anger. But before he could, the man dashed away, leaving Devon standing there in a blind rage. What the fuck was that? Devon thought, the bizarre encounter leaving him in staggering frenzy.
