Free On the Flip Side by Nikki Carter Page B

pops me with a makeup brush. “Stop moving!” she fusses.
    â€œOuch! Mystique, I am a musician and this is a small venue. No background tracks. That’s lame.”
    â€œOkay, I was just asking. I didn’t want you to think you had to do this like you’ve got something to prove. Everybody knows you can sing.”
    â€œI’m not trying to prove anything. I just know that I hate tracks. I hate lip synching and all that.”
    â€œSo, if you go on tour this summer, you’re going to use a live band?”
    She asks this question as if there is only one acceptable answer, and not the one I want.
    â€œWell, that’s what I thought. Is it not doable?”
    â€œUm ... well, I don’t think Epsilon Records will want to send you on tour with a full band. Maybe if you do some tour stops with me, and I have a full band ... yeah, maybe that will work.”
    Regina looks up at Mystique. “You never have a full band. You always sing to a track.”
    Mystique looks away from Regina’s glare. “Yeah, well, I’m an artist too. Sunday isn’t the only purist in the music industry.”
    I don’t know what just passed between Mystique and Regina, but there seems to be some hidden conversation in their facial expressions. Mystique seems really uncomfortable all of a sudden.
    Mystique says, “I’m going to make sure that everyone in the band is straight, and then I’m going to sit in VIP with Zac and Big D.”
    â€œZac is here?”
    â€œYep. You’re one of his favorite artists right now, honey.” She kisses me on the cheek and then wipes off her lip gloss.
    Regina is silent for a few moments until Mystique has gotten out of earshot. Then she makes a sound like she’s sucking her teeth.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I ask.
    Regina clears her throat. “Okay, Sunday, I’m gonna tell you something, and you might not believe me now, but you will down the road.”
    â€œOkay ...”
    â€œMystique is not one hundred percent in your corner. She is not ready to give up that throne, baby, and you are coming hard and strong.”
    â€œI-I’m not trying to take her throne.”
    â€œYou don’t have to be trying . But it’s happening anyway. I heard from a very, very trusted source that she is the one behind that ecstasy getting slipped in Sam’s drink.”
    â€œUnh-uh! Whatever! I don’t believe that.”
    â€œMy friend who is a makeup artist in Zac’s camp said she overheard the girl in the bathroom talking about it. The chic was some random video vixen, and she said Mystique had paid her one thousand dollars to get Sam in a compromising position.”
    â€œYeah, well, if that was true, why hasn’t the picture been leaked yet?”
    â€œI haven’t figured that part out,” Regina says, “but maybe it has something to do with the fact that Sam confessed everything to you. I bet she never expected him to do that.”
    This is information overload. Too much dang information. This is stuff that Regina should’ve kept to herself. Mystique is my mentor, for crying out loud. If she didn’t want me around, why would she even give me a record deal?
    â€œI owe all of this to Mystique. I wouldn’t even have a gig if it wasn’t for her. Shoot, I wouldn’t have a record deal if it wasn’t for her.”
    â€œYep, and she wants you to never forget that too. Just ... just watch your back, Sunday. Don’t say I didn’t warn you about her.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Gia, Piper, and Meagan all storm the backstage with their backstage passes. They’re all smiles, which I need right now since Regina just totally wrecked my flow with her overshare.
    Regina says, “You’re all done. I’m going to watch the show. Knock ’em dead.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Gia asks as they crowd my area.
    I consider telling them, but I think if I share