Whitney stepped in the studio, her assistant, Brooklyn and boyfriend, Bobby following behind her as they made their way to the shoot for the cover of Vogue. She quietly searched for a dressing room after looking for a few minutes she finally found it and went inside to sit in a chair in front of the vanity to wait for the makeup and wardrobe crew.
"Brooklyn would you mind announcing my presence. I'll meet everyone once I'm ready."
"Of course Ms. Houston-"
"Please babe, call me Whitney."
"Okay Whitney, I'll go tell them you're here and ready."
"Thank you, sweets," Brooklyn walked out of the dressing room closing the door behind her.
"Why you gotta call her that?"
"Call her what Bobby?" she glared at him through the mirror.
"'Babe' and 'sweets' and all that shit. Chill with all that. She gotta name and you know it."
"Are you serious? Oh my goodness. Why did you even come? I don't need you on my ass."
"Girl, I'm not on your ass. I'm here to support you."
"Support? Yeah right," she laughed.
Before he could say something a makeup artist came in the room and introduced herself to Whitney before starting on her makeup.
"Bobby would you mind waiting outside for me," she smiled sarcastically.
"Sure babe..." he mocked her sarcastic tone and left the room.
After getting her make up done and changing into the clothing that was assigned for her to wear she walked out to the set of the shoot ready to be photographed.
"Whitney thank you for doing this shoot," a man she couldn't name greeted her.
"Thank you for having me," she laughed.
She posed underneath the lights. The black pants suit she hand on gave her a 'phenomenal woman' look. She flipped her curls, striking another pose as directed. She kept a straight face. Wanting the viewer of the magazine to know she meant business as a phenomenal woman. She took off the blazer revealing the sheer shirt underneath.
She flashed a bright smile and looked into the camera.
"This is gonna be big," she heard someone on the set say.
She struck another pose smiling.
'Whitney Houston: The Phenomenal Woman'
She looked down at the printed magazine cover, a tear falling from her eye. She looked at the woman in the magazine and couldn't even recognize that smile. She couldn't even fathom the feeling of happiness anymore.
She threw the magazine in the trash and rolled up a blunt. A thick cloud of smoke left her lips as she exhaled, crying.
"I deserve better than this.", she muttered, looked at her boyfriend passed out on the couch beside her, beer cans beside him.
She deserves better than this.
