Crème de la Crème (Chris Brown Story)

Thirty-two.

Evie

"Eve, come on out the back; we're about to get off the plane. We got to get this show on the road, baby!" Aaron yelled as I took yet another shot of Grey Goose.

My mind had been racing a mile a minute from the moment Ashton's rude ass intentionally bumped into me, and I do mean intentionally.

For a fact, Ashton had more than enough room to get around me, so much so that if another person were to pass between us, there would still be space left. Yet, Ashton took it upon himself to be a fucking asshole and rub up against me. After that, I stayed my black ass in the back and tried to get my thoughts together by drinking.

I couldn't help but wonder what game he was now trying to play. He spent the last few weeks feigning as if being around me was a chore. Ashton acted as if our previous "situation" never existed. Only for us to get to another country, and he does a complete one-eighty.

I sighed heavily and walked towards the front where Aaron, August, and Sean were standing.

The guys had begun collecting their bags and passing them to the concierge. I walked around them towards my seat and grabbed the rest of my bags. "I'm ready."

"No, the fuck you aren't!" Aaron yelled, which caused August and Sean to turn around to see why he was fussing. All three men held a scowl so tough on their faces. "What?"

"Where the fuck is the rest of your damn clothes, Evie?" August fussed. I rolled my eyes and smacked my lips. "Do not start this shit right now. It's hot here, and I plan on enjoying myself a–"

"You ain't doing a damn thing! You're not walking up off this plane with that bullshit on! I'm not playing, Eve. Go put some damn pants on."Aaron interjected.

"What?" I gave a little laugh and tried to push past him, but he wouldn't budge, "Aaron, for real, move out my way." I once again tried to move, but he stayed put.

"We're not leaving this plane because I can keep us here all day if I have to, so try me if you want to."

"What's wrong with what I have on? It's like 102 degrees out here, and if my eyes serve me right, all Y'all mafuckers either got on basketball shorts or cargos. Let me live." I argued

They were holding me up because I had on a cropped top and jeans shorts. I can't lie, my shorts were giving coochie cutters, but they were comfortable and suited for the weather.

"Yo, what the fuck is the hold-up? We're on a schedule." Ashton walked back on with an agitated look on his face.

"Ask Meg thee Pony here. I promise you we won't move a single muscle until she goes to change," Aaron said, retaking his seat and kicking his feet up on the table.

The agitation never left Ashton's face as his eyes scanned my outfit, "Yall can't be fucking serious." he muttered as he walked away.

The guys were childish. I felt like I was their kid sister that they had an infinite set of rules and regulations for. I was twenty-five years old, turning twenty-six in less than fifteen hours. I may be the youngest on this trip, but I didn't need my movements monitored by any of these guys.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember getting on this plane with my father present? I'm a grown-ass woman." I informed, "Sean? Tell them." I just knew he would have my back. Boy, was I wrong?

"Tell them what, E?" he turned his nose up at me, "Listen, I condone a lot of shit in our friendship, but I can't get with this right here." He shook his head.

Jesse walked in with Mark and Camron. Mark was our COO, Camron was my manager, and the head of the PR department. Ashton made his and every other manager's job at Aston Martin super easy since he was the main one breathing down everyone's necks to make sure things were going smoothly.