CROSSROADS

5

Fantasia walked into the beautiful hotel. A group of businessmen's attention quickly turned to her, her tall black, Manolo Blahnik stilettos clicking against the floor.

Fantasia decided to keep it chic and sexy. She wanted to give Taraji a true wow factor. The businessmen followed Fantasia with their eyes. Her short, black jersey halter dress caused the men to stand at attention. She pulled her beautiful black hair up, letting her natural curls flow.
Fantasia noticed the front desk agent salivating at the sight of her. She smiled. It was perfect, she should be able to get whatever she wanted out of the young, white male.

"Well... welcome to the Embassy Suites. My name is Phillip. How can I be of assistance to you?" Fantasia placed both of her arms on the counter, causing just enough of a gap in her dress so that Phillip could get a better view of her cleavage. "Hi, Phillip, my friend Taraji Henson asked me to meet her at her room, and I can't, for the life of me, remember her room number."

Phillip pulled himself away from looking at her smooth skin. "Uh, yes, um, let me look that up for you."
"Oh, thank you so very much. You are a lifesaver, she would kill me if she knew I forgot it." Fantasia flashed her pearly whites. Phillip was putty in her hands. In seconds she had Taraji's room number. It was show time.

Taraji knew liquor was not her friend. Instead of feeling better the vodka made her feel worse. The taste was horrible. The orange juice didn't help the burning of the cheap vodka going down her throat. Taraji didn't care, she suffered, waiting on the effects to kick in. Soon she found herself sitting on the edge of the plush bed crying like a little baby. All the years of blood and sweat she'd given to her craft were coming out in her tears.

Honey's  face circled in her mind. She thought about how much she missed her grandmother and how disappointed she would have been about her last years in college. Taraji's unhealthy relationship with Fantasia was the cause of it all. She knew karma was kicking her in her ass for messing with Fantasia, and Monica. She had broken her own rules, no women until after college. Everything that had happened Taraji brought on herself.

Taraji thought about her mother Hazel. She felt more like her mother than ever in life. Her mother had a drug habit that made her incapable of making responsible decisions. Hazel's drug was crack, Taraji's drug was Fantasia King-Taylor. In the midst of her self-pity party she heard a faint knock at the door. Taraji ignored it. There was another knock, this time a little louder. Taraji stood up and stumbled, her head spinning.

Using her hand on the wall as a guide, she walked toward the door. She looked out the peep hole, but all she saw was black. Either she was hearing things, or someone was playing at her door. There was another knock on the door. Taraji flung the door open and froze. Fantasia stood face to face with Taraji.

Lena looked into Denise's eyes. Her voice soft, and with affection, she said, "Hi, Taraji."
"Fantasia?" Taraji inquired doubtfully, the vodka more powerful than she imagined. Now she was seeing things.
"Yeah, it's me." Fantasia reached out to Taraji and touched her arm. Goose bumps covered Taraji's arm.
"Can I come in?"

Dazed and confused, Taraji opened the door. Fantasia walked in the room. Taraji couldn't help but notice the sexy black dress and heels that Fantasia was rocking. She felt her body heating up just as the vodka had done earlier. She bit her tongue. A surge of pain came from her throbbing tongue. It wasn't a dream or the effects of the liquor. Fantasia was in her room.

"Fantasia, what are you doing here?"
Fantasia looked around the room. She turned back toward Taraji. She had a whole speech prepared that left her mind at first sight of Taraji. Fantasia's voice trembled. "Well, you left, and it started with me not being able to say goodbye." Fantasia sat on the edge of the bed.