Get Over It by Nikki Carter Page B

sadness comes over me as I escape to my musical sanctuary. I don’t like the uncertainty of not knowing who to trust or who I should choose. And what if the answer is neither? Then what? I get to hurt two people? I know that BlackCelebrityGossip.com called me a boss, but I’ve never felt less in charge before. Where are the paparazzi now? They never get a picture of the truth—the stuff that really happens.
    Maybe it’s time for me to go on record with the real story.

9
    â€œI ’se married now!”
    I hear Dreya’s voice on my phone at three o’clock in the morning, talking about she’s married, but I’m one hundred percent sure it’s a dream.
    â€œWake up, Sunday! You didn’t say anything.”
    I sit up in my bed and squint at the phone in the dark. It’s Dreya’s number on the caller ID, but she’s talking crazy.
    â€œWhat do you mean you’re married now?” I ask.
    â€œI’m in Vegas, with Evan! And we just got married.”
    â€œWhat? Are you serious?”
    â€œYes!”
    I shake my head in disbelief and kick my covers off so that I can pace the room while I fuss at Dreya.
    â€œWhat happened to flying everyone to St. Barts? I was looking forward to that trip!”
    Dreya cracks up. “So go on your own dime. I’m on my honeymoon right now!”
    â€œMy mom and Aunt Charlie are gonna kill you! You know they wanted to see you walk down the aisle.”
    â€œI know. So could you tell them for me please?”
    â€œWow. What do I get in exchange?”
    â€œYou get nothing! It’s a favor, cuzzo. I’ll owe you one.”
    â€œDo the bloggers know yet?”
    â€œI don’t know. I think Evan sent some pictures to that chick Tina from BlackCelebrityGossip.com. He says it’ll send my album sales soaring.”
    â€œYou’re already at number one.”
    â€œI know, but I need to go triple platinum by the end of the month. Epsilon is still talking about pulling the plug on my contract.”
    â€œI’ll call my mom in the morning. I will let her tell Aunt Charlie. You know she was having a handmade wig created for your wedding.”
    â€œWell, she can wear it to the reception. I’ll call you when I get back to Atlanta.”
    â€œAre y’all coming back here after Vegas?”
    â€œNo. We’re going back home to New York, because we have some stupid charity ball to attend. We’re going to come out with my pregnancy too.”
    â€œAll for record sales?”
    â€œNo, not just record sales. We love each other, and we’re just happy about it all.”
    I doubt that Evan is as happy as Dreya, but who am I to judge? I don’t know anything about love and romance.
    â€œOkay. I’ll talk to you later, Mrs. Wilborn.”
    â€œAnd you know it!”
    I disconnect the phone and grab my stomach as it growls. I try to remember my last meal, and it was yesterday afternoon’s trip to Busy Bee. And I also recall that I have half of my smothered chicken left in the refrigerator.
    I go downstairs to take care of my hunger. It’s so quiet right now, when everyone’s asleep. I never get to enjoy solitude. My friends make it noisy almost 24-7.
    After my food is done heating up, I take my plate to the table and power up the laptop. I log on to Twitter even though I never tweet. Sometimes, I’ll have Kevin post things for me and respond to my fans, but honestly, with school and the studio, I have no time to get online.
    My Twitter page has a bunch of mentions. So many fans trying to connect that I can’t get to them all. I type one line. Hey, tweeps! What’s good in the hood?
    In less than a minute, my page starts blowing up.
    @SundayTolliver OMG! I love you Sunday! You are incredible!
    @SundayTolliver Your song Can U See Me helped me meet my first boyfriend! Love you! #followback
    @SundayTolliver Please tell me that picture of you and DeShawn was