Pleasurable Expectations

t w e n t y - t h r e e

"Okay, Cameron." I leaned back and sunk into the couch cushions, one leg crossed over the other as my ankle shook rapidly. "Are you sure Malcolm is going to be up for this, though? It's been over a week, and he's still not in the right headspace to even tweet something."

"You've talked to him?"

"Every single day I've been pressing him," I confirmed. "He keeps telling me that he has no words." I released a sigh and hunched my body forward, an elbow resting on my knee as my thumb and forefinger stretched out to massage my temples. "Kobe is who made him want to be a shooting guard. Hell, Kobe is who made him start playing basketball!"

"Look, Kiara, I know he lost his biggest idol, but people are starting to take notice that he hasn't said anything about Kobe's death, not even a rest in peace." Cameron sighed in the same defeated nature as me. "It's getting to the point where you're going to have to release the statement for him, Kiara."

I let a silence fall between us as a finger slid over my eyebrow and trailed the side of my face. As Malcolm's publicist, it was entirely within my job to release statements for him to make sure that his reputation stays intact. Still, I felt that this specific situation should be spoken on by Malcolm and Malcolm only. It shouldn't be within my job to push him to put his grief out onto the internet, and I know it shouldn't be me who does it all together.

But on the other hand, it's been nine days since Kobe Bryant's unexpected passing, and it's been complete radio silence from Malcolm on all social media platforms. It was getting to the point where something has to be said from him, especially because he's mentioned before that Kobe Bryant was the player that he aspired to be. The basketball world is waiting on this teenager's response to this tragedy, whether he's ready to speak on it or not.

"I know that you're right. I'm going to give him one more day before putting something out on my own, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Cameron confirmed. "I'll get back to you in a couple days, okay?"

"Okay. Talk to you soon."

I hung the phone up and sunk back into the cushions, the gray fabric surrounding me matching the energy level I was at. I sighed one last time before wandering to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. I heard footsteps clinking down the stairs as I rummaged.

"Everything okay, baby?"

I grabbed a bottle from the fridge and shut the door, and Jeremiah posted up against the wall next to me. "Malcolm still hasn't said anything about Kobe dying yet," I began. I moved so that I was standing at the end of the kitchen counter before leaning back against it. "And now Cameron just called me to let me know that Malcolm and his team—" I took a second to point towards myself "—are invited to Los Angeles to attend his memorial."

"And that's a bad thing?" There was a crease between Jeremiah's eyebrows as the tiniest of frowns pulled his lip corners. His arms were crossed over his chest tightly, and his head was cocked slightly to the side.

"That's the issue. We don't know." I uncapped my water bottle and took a few sips, the cold liquid sliding down my throat and offering a burst of instant refreshment. "I don't know if the boy is angry, sad, hopeless, all of the above..."

"Sounds like you're the hopeless one here." I looked up for a split second and met Jeremiah's piercing gaze.

"I'm not hopeless, just stressed. I know this will cause a major shift with all things Malcolm. And, Cameron, Malcolm, and I were finally settling into a groove! Now Kobe's dead, and who knows how Malcolm feels about basketball anymore."

"You think he's gonna quit?"

"No, I don't think he's gonna quit, but I'm worried this will really disrupt the road we're on." My face slid into my hands as all the possibilities swirled through my head. I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring as I released. "I need to take a step back for a second. Do something to distract me."