The Beat of Love

Chapter Four

The morning after dinner with Xavier, I was on a flight out of New York and going nonstop. My guitarist came with me to do some acoustic performances during my interviews so I wouldn't have to play for myself. After every performance, I would get praise on the songs then it turned quickly to the buzz around Xavier and me.

"So do you and X-ile talk?" They'd ask. Or, "Has he spoken to you today?" Usually, I could laugh and answer the question and move on. A couple of interviewers had been rude and rubbed me the wrong way but I always tried to stay cordial.

One had asked, "What kind of name is 'X-ile' anyway? How do you come up with that?"

I laughed as kindly as I could. "Well, I can understand somebody being confused if you haven't done your research. See, X-ile got his name, firstly, from the first letter of his given name. Obviously. The rest comes from the word 'exile' itself. To be exiled means to be banished, basically, from your own country. X-ile got his name from that word and battle rapping. Lyrically he's always been miles ahead of his 'competition.' He got his name because it was said that going into a rap battle with him was a losing effort. Once you went in there, he'd exile you.

"Meaning, he'd banish rappers from their own hoods. I mean, some can come back from losing against him, because everybody can have a losing day. But it was pretty well known that you were off the map when he was done with you. So 'X-ile' stuck as his rap name and he's been making history with it already." I smiled, satisfied with myself. "See? Research. I know not everybody can do their own research so I'm glad to help inform others." I grinned. The interviewer, a woman with a naturally fake-looking smile, didn't much like me after that though. That interview went quick as hell.

Even the rude interviewers had been maneuverable, though, but there was a couple of times they caught me off guard. Case and point, when the interviewer in Seattle, the last interview before linking back up with Xavier mind you, pulled out a video of Xavier's crew getting into a fight the night before.

"Rumor has it, this fight was something that started with a word exchange between X-ile and, his old friend, Helix." The interviewer informed me. Helix was anything but a friend to Xavier. They'd been enemies since Helix had hit the scene and everyone knew it. "Word is that this is all over Tatiana Davers, one of X-ile's dancers and the woman with whom he was photographed with nearly a month ago at the now-famous award show you both attended and performed at. What are your thoughts on this, Isis?"

"My thoughts?" I repeated. "Uh, I don't- I don't really have thoughts. I wasn't there." I shrugged. "I think it's stupid to comment on something you weren't there to see, and that you have no knowledge of. So I wouldn't exactly comment. I haven't really spoken to him, so I don't know anything about this." I shrugged again. "Sorry."

"He's already on the phone." Rhonda handed me my phone in the car.

"What the hell, X?" I asked immediately.

"It wasn't completely over a girl and I was gone when it went down." He immediately said.

I sighed. "The person who interviewed me just asked me about it. You could have called before my interview. Give me a heads up or something."

"I tried to get Tyler to call, but you were already in the interview so we couldn't pull you out." He sighed. "I know it's not good."

"Yeah. It's not." I took a deep breath. "We're heading to Miami now. I'll see you there." I hung up. "Just when I was having nothing but positive questions and building buzz on the song, this happens."

"Don't stress, girl. We have time to twist it. You guys being together for the next week will stir more positive press around the new song."

"We need the focus off of the fight and that other girl period." I opened my Twitter, glancing through my feed. I was tagged in the tweets about the fight and people were asking about my relationship with Xavier. That seemed to be the biggest thing people wanted to know. It was everything they could talk about. Any crumb, that indicated a relationship, seemed to overshadow anything else. "Hm." The thought-filled sound slipped from my throat.