"Shawn," I turned to Jay-Z with a serious expression. "You're one lucky bastard to have a girl like her."
Beyoncé laughed melodically before pulling me into a hug. "Thank you for that, Troy." Then, looping her arm through mine, she turned to her partner with a teasing smirk. "You should appreciate me more. If you don't, I might just elope with this hunk right here."
"Like hell you will," Jay-Z shot back playfully. "You're not running off with some kid."
"I'm standing right here," I pointed out. "And for the record, I turn 18 in 24 hours."
A glint appeared in Beyoncé's eyes as she tightened her grip on my arm. "Not so much of a kid anymore, huh, Shawn?"
For a brief moment, something flickered in Jay-Z's expression—possessiveness, maybe—but it was quickly replaced by a casual grin. "Do what you want. I don't dictate your decisions."
I had the distinct feeling there was some silent conversation happening between them that I wasn't privy to, which made me a little uneasy. I thought about stepping away, but Beyoncé held onto my arm firmly.
"Jokes aside," she said. "Troy, your voice is amazing!"
"Thank you," I said sincerely. "That means the world coming from you. I'm a huge fan of your work."
"Oh, don't be modest," she waved off casually. "No joke, I was just talking to Shawn about you yesterday."
"You were?" I asked curiously.
"Of course," she nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I think our voices would complement each other perfectly. So, what do you think about collaborating on a song?"
I must've been gaping at her for a solid minute because her amused laugh snapped me out of it.
"Of course!" I said excitedly once she nudged me from my stupor. "I'd love that."
"Glad to hear it. I'll keep my eyes and ears open—you do the same. If either of us finds the right song, let's make it happen."
"Definitely."
She reached into the small clutch she was holding, pulled out her phone, finally releasing my arm.
"Give me your number. I'll text you so you have mine, too."
I recited both of my numbers—one for the US, one for the UK—on autopilot as she quickly typed them in. A moment later, my phone vibrated in my pocket, confirming her text had come through.
"I have a feeling we'll be in touch very soon," Beyoncé said smoothly before walking away. But not before throwing a sultry glance my way—one that also flickered toward Jay-Z. I could only assume she was using me to rile him up.
She had barely taken a few steps when Jay-Z followed after her, only to pause mid-step.
"Troy," he said seriously. "Thank you for agreeing to my suggestion. You have no idea how much that's helped Rihanna."
I was more confused than anything. This conversation was already turning out to be incredibly weird.
"What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked, still not understanding. "What did I do?"
"You know," Jay-Z leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "The fake breakup. I get why you and Rihanna were hesitant about it, but trust me, this will be great for both of your PR. Just wait a few months, and then I'll let you get back together. People love reconciling lovers more than anything."
I stood there, completely still.
Did Rihanna break up with me on Jay-Z's orders? And if that was the case… why the fuck didn't she tell me? Did she not trust me enough to share something this big?
"All the best for the Grammys," Jay-Z added, but I was barely listening now. "I have a feeling you'll have a very successful awards season."
I didn't even nod as he walked away—I was still too shaken by the world-altering revelation he had just dropped on me. I didn't know what to do. I felt betrayed. The one person I trusted so much had taken that trust and stomped on it. Hard.
I know it sounds exaggerated, but at that moment, that's exactly how it felt.
"Troy! Happy New Year!"
Mum pulled me into a hug, quickly followed by Dad. I greeted them back automatically, but no smile reached my face.
"Are you okay, son?" Dad asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did something happen?"
"I need to get out of here, Dad," I said urgently. "Can you ask someone to drop Anna home?"
"Of course," Dad agreed immediately. "But what happened? Where are you going?"
"Rihanna," was my only answer. "I'll explain in the morning."
Without waiting for them to press further, I turned and headed for the exit, already dialing my security team to get the car ready.
(Break)
Rihanna spent New Year's Eve at home.
Her friends had invited her to a big party—not as grand as a major studio event, but still huge, with plenty of famous faces in attendance. She declined.
She could have gone. She should have gone. But there was only one reason she didn't—Troy.
She missed being with him, missed kissing him at midnight the way she had last year. It didn't help that she knew with certainty that her friends will pair her up with some random guy to kiss at midnight. So, rather than tolerating that, she chose not to go at all.
Next year, when she and Troy would be back together publicly, she would go then.
It was a bit of a letdown when Troy didn't call her exactly at midnight to wish her a Happy New Year, but Rihanna understood. He was out at a party, and he had to maintain appearances.
Just ten minutes past midnight, her phone started ringing. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his name on the screen.
Without hesitation, she picked up the call.
"Happy New Year, Troy!" she beamed excitedly, even though he couldn't see her. But her excitement dimmed when he didn't respond right away.
"Hello?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice. "Can you hear me?"
"Yes," Troy said after a brief silence. "Where are you, Rihanna?"
"Home."
"I'm coming over."
"Right now?" she asked eagerly. "But weren't you at all those parties?"
"Yeah. I left. I'm on my way to you now. I'll be there in ten minutes."
And just like that, he disconnected the call.
Rihanna frowned slightly, a little disappointed that he hadn't said more, but a much bigger part of her was beyond ecstatic. Troy was coming over. She missed him so much that she didn't even find it strange that he hadn't wished her a Happy New Year back.
As she waited, she paced around her apartment, anticipation bubbling inside her. When the doorbell finally rang, she practically skipped to the door.
The moment she saw him standing there, she couldn't hold back any longer. She pulled Troy inside, shut the door behind them, and leaned in for a passionate kiss.
Or at least, it was supposed to be passionate.
Their lips met, sure—but the passion was only from Rihanna. Troy barely responded.
Confused, she pulled away and finally took a good look at him. His usual self-assured grin was nowhere to be seen. His shoulders sagged, his expression was tired, and his eyes… his eyes held something unfamiliar. An emotion she couldn't quite name.
Anger?
But why would he be angry?
"What's wrong?" she asked hesitantly.
"Why didn't you tell me that Jay-Z told you to break up with me?" Troy asked bluntly, his tone harsh.
Rihanna's lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again—only for silence to follow.
"Answer me!" Troy's sudden shout sent a jolt through her, like a surge of electricity.
It took her a moment to gather enough courage to ask, "How?"
"I ran into Jay-Z at the party," Troy snapped. "He thanked me for following 'his plan' and breaking up with you." He closed his eyes for a second, visibly trying to steady himself, before speaking again—this time, softer. "Why didn't you tell me, Rihanna?"
"I… I…"
She was at a complete loss for words.
The truth was, she hadn't told him because she knew exactly how he would react. He would have gone straight to Jay-Z and started an argument. Maybe worse. She knew Troy well enough to know that.
And that was exactly what she had wanted to avoid.
"You wouldn't have agreed if this wasn't my plan," Rihanna said after a long hesitation. "If you had confronted Jay-Z about it, it could have seriously harmed my career. I couldn't risk that."
"But you could risk our relationship?" Troy shot back heatedly, pointing between them. "This doesn't mean anything to you, huh?"
"Of course it does," Rihanna assured him, stepping forward and cupping his face in her hands. "You mean everything to me. I just thought… you're so busy with all your projects right now. You wouldn't have time for a relationship for a few months anyway. When you're finally free, then we can go public again."
Troy stared into her eyes, his gaze dark and unreadable. But beneath the surface, there was a stormy determination—like he had already made up his mind.
"No." His voice was firm as he pulled away from her touch and took a step back. "If I mean everything to you, then prove it. Pack your bags right now. My parents and I are flying back to London in a few hours. Come with us. Don't worry about your contract—I'll handle Jay-Z."
Rihanna's temper flared. "You just proved my point!" she snapped. "I just told you my reasons, and you're doing the exact same thing now—deciding what's best for me without asking what I want. I'm not going."
"This isn't an option, Rihanna," Troy said, his voice cold. "Either you come with me now, or this is it. We're over."
Rihanna gaped at him in shock. Before she could respond, Troy pressed on.
"I can't do this one-sided thing where everything in our relationship is for you and you alone. We got together for your career's sake. And then, when it was no longer convenient for you, you ended it." His jaw tightened. "Don't give me that look—you know it's the truth."
He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head in frustration. "That's not how relationships work, Ri. At least not for me. If you can't commit to me 100%, then we should end this right now."
His voice softened, but the ultimatum was clear.
"So… what's it gonna be?"
Rihanna felt as if Troy had slapped her. Sure, she knew he was impulsive, but this was the first time he had ever given her such an ultimatum.
"I can't believe you're putting me on the spot like this," she said tiredly. "You can't just show up out of nowhere and demand that I leave the country with you. That's not how relationships work, Troy!"
Troy stared at her in silence at having his own words thrown back at him. Neither of them spoke, but from the look on his face, Rihanna could already tell that he regretted his words. Still, he was too proud to admit his mistake—especially when, in his mind, she was the bigger culprit.
"I'm sorry," Rihanna finally said. "I'm really sorry for not telling you the truth. But can we at least sit down and talk like civilized people?"
Troy nodded reluctantly, and the two of them moved to the living room. He chose the armchair opposite her, putting both physical and emotional distance between them.
"I can't come with you today," Rihanna said, breaking the silence. "You and I both know that."
Troy looked up at her, sadness plain on his face. The raw pain in his eyes made her heart ache. She was this close to wrapping her arms around him, to telling him she'd go—but in the end, she didn't.
"Can you ever?" Troy asked seriously. "Forget the last ten minutes. Be honest with me. Will you ever come live with me against Jay-Z's wishes? Because I can already tell—he won't allow it. That's what he said to me today, that he'll 'allow' us to date in a few months. Like he controls your life. Does he?"
Rihanna had no answer. Because as much as she wanted to shout yes, I'll come to London soon or no, Jay-Z doesn't control me, she knew both would be lies.
Troy might see Jay-Z as the villain, but she knew better. He had done so much for her. He launched her albums on a massive scale. He got her [Echoes of You]. He fought with multiple songwriters just to secure her the best songs. It was because of him that her PR was spotless. She owed him too much to openly defy him. And besides, there was no guarantee that Troy could give her the same career trajectory Jay-Z had promised—and delivered.
The silence between them was deafening. Rihanna wanted to say so many things to Troy, but she didn't know where to begin.
"I don't think we should continue this, Ri," Troy said at last, his voice carrying a finality that sent a chill down her spine. He had gotten his answer from her silence.
"You're breaking up with me?" Rihanna asked, stunned. "For real?"
She had thought his threats were just a ploy to get her to London. But this… this caught her completely off guard.
"A relationship is built on trust. And I don't think I can ever trust you again," Troy said, his voice heavy with finality. "I don't want to fight Jay-Z for your attention and love at every turn—especially when you clearly prefer him over me."
"Don't do this. I love you, Troy," Rihanna pleaded, her eyes glistening with tears. "I'll come with you if that's what you want."
Troy looked away. "I'm sorry for that ultimatum earlier. I didn't mean to manipulate you into doing something you don't want. When I was on my way here, I already knew what was gonna happen. There was just a small selfish part of me that didn't want to let you go. Still don't want to let you go."
After a beat, he let out a bitter laugh. "The funny part is, if I were in your place, I probably would have made the same choice. Not the lying part—but choosing my career over my relationship. You and I are both too ambitious to settle for mediocrity."
Rihanna broke down in sobs, not knowing what else to do.
"Hey," Troy murmured, his voice softer now as he pulled her into a hug. She didn't even realize when she had moved closer to him. "Please don't cry. I still love you, and we can be friends, but our relationship won't work the way things are right now. Maybe in a few years, we can—"
"Stop." Rihanna abruptly pulled away, looking anywhere but at him. Yet her words were clear as day. "Get. Out."
Troy blinked, momentarily taken aback. "I don't think—"
"Please get out right now before I start shouting bloody murder. Or worse, call 9-1-1 on your ass for trespassing."
Troy hesitated, silently debating with himself for a moment. Then, without another word, he stood up and walked to the door. He turned back once, giving her a sorrowful, lingering look—then he was gone.
Only when the door clicked shut behind him did Rihanna finally let herself fall apart.
What a great start to the New Year.
______________________________________________
AN: Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver