We walked hand-in-hand to the bakery, having some fangirls squeal at our appearance and a few camera lights flash from here to there. I had on my previous outfit at the hotel room and some pink Vans the boys got me for last Christmas. It was strange being out in public as “Prodigy’s girlfriend” with sweats, but no matter how hard I tried telling Prod I didn’t mind changing, he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t know why, but a part of me was quite thankful he wasn’t oblivious when it came to his “girlfriend’s image”; I was damn comfortable in this loose tee, shoes (not heels, for once!), and baggy sweats.
All I had that were considered fancy on were some coal-black Prada glasses Walter loaned me. At first, I thought it was stupid wearing sunglasses. He had no idea how long girls take just to put on eye makeup, and wearing sunglasses to cover that was foolish. But now, I honestly couldn’t be any more thankful for shades covering my bloodshot orbs.
When we got the the bakery, I felt relieved it wasn’t as crowded as I thought it would be. The bakery was endearing; it had caramel walls, dark brown cushions, tables shaped like a dripping chocolate fountain -- it was a mid-quality place in a comforting atmosphere.
Prod motioned me to sit at a table while he got our brunch. I decided to sit in a corner away from everyone else, since a few teenage girls that looked like they were from a local academy were already starting to stare.
A wave of intolerance began tensing my veins. Were they apart of those girls that hated me because I was "dating" Prodigy? Before I could even think, the gang of school girls approached my table.
One of them tapped my shoulder. Thank God for sunglasses. “Um, excuse me?”
I brought my view upwards. Two of the three high school girls had their purple Androids gripped tightly in their palms, while the other had her Jansport backpack over her right shoulder. I noticed that all of them were wearing black "Mindless Behavior" wristbracelets.
“Hello,” I tried my best to smile, but the pain from a few hours ago still inflicted me.
“Are you Nicole Parker? The Nicole Parker, as in Prodigy’s girlfriend?” A slim, African American girl peeped.
I nodded, a bit surprised that they actually knew my name. Usually, a celebrity dating a non-celebrity would just be known as “his girlfriend” or “her boyfriend”. For Mindless fans to remember my name and my face made me cheery and somewhat frightened.
Instantly, all the girls shrieked in admiration; one with tight curls even started fanning herself. “Can I have your autograph?” The slim girl handed me a fine point Sharpie and what seemed like her semi-passing Algebra test. “Oh my god, this can’t be happening!”
As I started signing, the slim one peeped. “Could you please make it out to Destiny?” She smiled; I could tell by her flushed cheeks that she was slightly nervous.
One of her friends scoffed. “And Ashlynn!”
I chuckled lightly. “Sure, you have such a nice name, Destiny. All of you do, actually. You are all beautiful girls.” I said, handing back the paper. Honestly, it somewhat overwhelmed me that I was already signing autographs when I practically didn’t do anything. But I guess that was how the media worked at certain ocassions.
“Thank you! You’re really prettier in person.” Destiny chimed. I smiled slightly, as my self-esteem just raised.
“Yeah!” The other girl, who was a permed Latina, uttered. “You and Prodigy make such a good couple!”
I almost felt my eyes pop out of it’s own sockets. People, especially their fans, actually fell for our stunt?
If only that statement was true.
While thanking them, as if on cue, Prodigy appeared with a petite brown box and a white take-out package. The girls squealed even louder, only to make Prodigy himself almost drop our “date” food. After a couple picture takings and compliments received by them, they took the hint that we were supposedly here to spend time with each other, so they took their belongings and left, beaming with grins from ear-to-ear.
Prod chuckled as he saw the girls left the bakery in sweet moderation. He sat down, and opened his take-out box to reveal a chicken pesto sandwich. I felt myself immediately shake my own head, of course Prod would take the chicken pesto sandwich.
“Wow Nicole, already got em’ fans ah?” Prod joked, taking a bite out of his oozing, toasted sandwich.
I smirked. “Shut up, lover boy. You know I already got more fans ready to holla at me than you!”
Prod gaped, pretending to look hurt. “That’s not nice, Nicole.” He opened the brown, foldable box. “Especially when I bought you three dozen macaroons.”
At the sight of the colorful treats, it was my turn to gape. During our childhood, I always loved eating macaroons; they were just fun-colored for my liking. Honestly, what made me love these sweets even more was the fact that I felt fancy, like a princess out of a Notre Dame movie.
Quickly, I snatched the box away, grabbing a green colored macaroon. Pistachio, my favorite.
Prod laughed at the sight of my teeth viciously sink into the treat. I couldn’t even help myself; the ones from the city were the best!
“Aye, Nicole..” Prod spoke after I swallowed an entire macaroon. I veered my eyes up in reply. “For the heads up, we’re leaving New York in three days.”
Although I loved traveling, especially with my best friend, a part of me was provoked seeing more of their fans. I already had enough hate being the main vocalist’s best buddy (who so happens to be a girl), and being his so-called "girlfriend" would most likely bring me even more hate.
Suddenly, I felt a hand touch my wrists. Sparks began flying inside of me; a wave of electricity shook my entire being. I brought myself back to reality and realized Prod had touched my wrists, gripping onto them in support.
“Don’t worry about the fans, iight? You’re my girl and nothing’s gonna change that.”
Prod inched his hand away as I attempted to bring my mindset into what was really happening with me. Was I really falling in love with my best friend, who’s manager only truly wanted me to be on tour with him just to increase his popularity status?
It confused me when he would always say stuff like “you’re my girl” or the occasional “i love you”s. Actually, scratch that. It saddened me. I knew he only did it for the stunt. But, what saddened me even more was that I meant everything I said.
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m going to be fine.” I lied.
I could feel Prod stare at me; I knew he could read my entire being like a book, so why did I just lie?
Before he could catch my lead, I grabbed another macaroon from the box. He let out an exhausted sigh. “Did I forget to mention we’re going to appear together on Ellen..?”
When I heard that, I almost choked. Keisha and Walter got us booked on Ellen? As a couple? Were they really that serious about exploiting our “relationship”?
“It’s just us?”
“Nah.” He added in a calmer tone. “The other guys are going too. Just be aware of the questions Ellen might ask about.. you know.”
Prod took another bite of his sandwich. I thought silently in my head, I needed practice on how to answer these couple questions before I make a fool out of myself again.
“Wait,” I bit my bottom lip. “Prince is going?”
I didn’t mean to sound like I was mad at Prince, because I wasn’t. He told me the cold-hearted truth and I respect him for doing that. But I was pretty sure everyone was aware of the heated atmosphere between Prince and Prod, and for them to be sitting down together in a live audience and national T.V. was going to be something amusing.
Immediately, Prod’s hands tensed up. The anger in his eyes were now completely visible.
“Prod..” I whispered his name, a bit frightened of his reaction. “What happened to you guys?”
Prince and Prod used to be as tight as roots on the Earth. While Roc and Ray always had their bromance together, it was Prince and Prod who would always joke around with each other. Their friendship was inevitable, but it broke as easily as glass. It was as if a year away from them got them tangled in each other’s fury, for whatever reason, that is.
“Just.. whatever happens, Nicole,” Prod uttered. You could hear the rage in his tone easily. “Remember that I’ll always love you.”
And with that, he took me by the hand and walked out of the bakery, ignoring any questions from the paps about our fantasy relationship.