can this bitch be pregnant. If Angel finds out, he will surely end things with me and go back to her. I can not lose him again. If I do, all of my hard work will go down the drain. The media won’t be fascinated with me. The paparazzi won’t clamor for my photo. I won’t get anymore free swag, and most important, my plans of being Mrs. Angel Carter will no longer exist. Okay, Milania, think. She ran her free hand through her hair. You just need a li’l more time to solidify your relationship before he learns that she’s pregnant.
“What’s takin’ you so long? You get lost?” Angel yelled from the shower, causing Milania to jump.
Her whole entire body was shaking.
“No, here I come!” she yelled back, praying he didn’t hear the panic in her voice.
Milania looked down at the phone realizing she had to make a decision and quick. Fuck it, she said to herself. She knew that what she was about to do was fucked up and morally wrong on so many levels, but getting put on nowadays wasn’t as easy for everybody as it was for Amber Rose. Some chicks had to work a li’l harder, suck a li’l bit more dick, give up a lot more pussy, show even more ass and play a lot more games to be famous.
Now was Milania’s time to shine. She would be Hollywood’s new “it girl,” and Angel Carter was her meal ticket to making all of her dreams come true. Without hesitation or a blink of the eye, she erased the message and any evidence that Dylan had called. Pleased with her choice, Milania stripped down to her birthday suit and smiled. Angel was hers, and she was willing to do any and everything to make sure things stayed that way.
“I can’t believe that muthafucka!” Tee-Tee spat with his hand on his hip.
He and Dylan were inside of Macy’s picking out an outfit for her to wear to Billie’s New Year’s Eve party.
“I mean, it’s been three weeks since you called him, and his ass ain’t called and said nothin’?”
“I found it odd too at first, but I guess he just doesn’t wanna have anything to do with me.” Dylan tried to seem nonchalant about the situation as she slipped on a dress.
For the past three weeks, she’d put on the illusion that she was this strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man, meaning Angel, by her side. But really, when no one was around and all she had was herself to be with, she felt sick, like the air God breathed into her lungs had escaped. She felt bamboozled, hurt, pissed off, unwanted, shut out, forgotten, and alone.
It wasn’t like she had a mother who she could lean on. Her mother, Candy, couldn’t even be put in the classification of a mother. She was like the anti-mother. Candy could’ve easily been the spokesperson for the worst mother in the world. She didn’t even teach her her ABC’s. One of Dylan’s many nannies did. Yet still crying on her cousin’s shoulder was something she wasn’t willing to do. Yes, the pain in her chest felt like she was being constantly stabbed, but Dylan had to live and stay focused for her baby.
Regrettably, with each day that passed, that notion became harder and harder. For Dylan, being pregnant only brought on an added stress that she didn’t need. She was already dealing with the fact that her bakery, Edible Couture, which had only been open six months, was failing miserably. Every day it became increasingly harder for her to pay the store’s rent and the rent on her town house. Bills were piling up to the ceiling, and sooner than later her bakery would have to close. If that was Dylan’s fate, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“It’s okay if he don’t wanna have nothin’ to do with you, but what about the baby?” Tee-Tee continued to go off. “The baby don’t have nothin’ to do wit’ y’all mess. It didn’t ask to be brought into this world,” Tee-Tee snapped outside the dressing-room door.
“Just please give me his number so I can cuss his ass out.”
“For the one-hundredth time,
“What’s takin’ you so long? You get lost?” Angel yelled from the shower, causing Milania to jump.
Her whole entire body was shaking.
“No, here I come!” she yelled back, praying he didn’t hear the panic in her voice.
Milania looked down at the phone realizing she had to make a decision and quick. Fuck it, she said to herself. She knew that what she was about to do was fucked up and morally wrong on so many levels, but getting put on nowadays wasn’t as easy for everybody as it was for Amber Rose. Some chicks had to work a li’l harder, suck a li’l bit more dick, give up a lot more pussy, show even more ass and play a lot more games to be famous.
Now was Milania’s time to shine. She would be Hollywood’s new “it girl,” and Angel Carter was her meal ticket to making all of her dreams come true. Without hesitation or a blink of the eye, she erased the message and any evidence that Dylan had called. Pleased with her choice, Milania stripped down to her birthday suit and smiled. Angel was hers, and she was willing to do any and everything to make sure things stayed that way.
“I can’t believe that muthafucka!” Tee-Tee spat with his hand on his hip.
He and Dylan were inside of Macy’s picking out an outfit for her to wear to Billie’s New Year’s Eve party.
“I mean, it’s been three weeks since you called him, and his ass ain’t called and said nothin’?”
“I found it odd too at first, but I guess he just doesn’t wanna have anything to do with me.” Dylan tried to seem nonchalant about the situation as she slipped on a dress.
For the past three weeks, she’d put on the illusion that she was this strong, independent woman who didn’t need a man, meaning Angel, by her side. But really, when no one was around and all she had was herself to be with, she felt sick, like the air God breathed into her lungs had escaped. She felt bamboozled, hurt, pissed off, unwanted, shut out, forgotten, and alone.
It wasn’t like she had a mother who she could lean on. Her mother, Candy, couldn’t even be put in the classification of a mother. She was like the anti-mother. Candy could’ve easily been the spokesperson for the worst mother in the world. She didn’t even teach her her ABC’s. One of Dylan’s many nannies did. Yet still crying on her cousin’s shoulder was something she wasn’t willing to do. Yes, the pain in her chest felt like she was being constantly stabbed, but Dylan had to live and stay focused for her baby.
Regrettably, with each day that passed, that notion became harder and harder. For Dylan, being pregnant only brought on an added stress that she didn’t need. She was already dealing with the fact that her bakery, Edible Couture, which had only been open six months, was failing miserably. Every day it became increasingly harder for her to pay the store’s rent and the rent on her town house. Bills were piling up to the ceiling, and sooner than later her bakery would have to close. If that was Dylan’s fate, she didn’t know what she was going to do.
“It’s okay if he don’t wanna have nothin’ to do with you, but what about the baby?” Tee-Tee continued to go off. “The baby don’t have nothin’ to do wit’ y’all mess. It didn’t ask to be brought into this world,” Tee-Tee snapped outside the dressing-room door.
“Just please give me his number so I can cuss his ass out.”
“For the one-hundredth time,
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