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The first three weeks of 2020 passed smoothly. I had acquired a manager for Malcolm, leaving me to take a step back and focus solely on his image. It was nice for someone else to be able to fill that role, allowing me to influence the route his image took and then take that step back. Malcolm was a great kid, but I wasn't trained to manage the athlete themself so much as the way the public views him.

I was surprisingly overwhelmed with the amount of time I had to myself in light of not taking on two jobs at once. The only thing I could think of doing instead of sitting at home binge-watching shows was to take a trip to the taqueria down the street. It was only a five-minute walk, leaving no real excuse for me not to go.

That's why I found myself sitting inside a freezing cold bus-turned-restaurant. The only thing providing some semblance of warmth was the scarf I had wrapped from my shoulders to my nose. I was rubbing my hands together in vain as my phone began to vibrate across the table, a call from Sienna revealed when I looked at the screen. I plucked my AirPods from their case, the joints in my fingers feeling as though they were unfreezing as they moved.

"What's up, Si?" I asked after getting myself situated.

"Not much, forreal. I wanted to ask you to do a huge solid for me."

I clicked my phone off and tucked it away in my jacket pocket, it being secured by me buttoning the pocket closed. "What's the solid?" I blew into my hands in the hopes that it would magically warm me up.

"Go on a double date with me?" Even through the overpowering hesitance, I could hear a whisper of hope.

"Explain, please."

"At the New Year's kickback, I guess I gave King my number." She phrased it as both a statement and a question as if the events were unsure to her. "Anyways, I got a text from him this morning saying basically that he wants to take me on a date when he gets back from Vegas."

Sienna continued to explain the situation to me, my attention being pulled from her when I heard my order called. I huffed and stood from my seat, glad to have my food and finally be on my way home where there is heat.

My boots clunked against the metal floor as I walked up to the counter to grab my chicken tacos. I smiled and threw out a quick 'thank you' before turning on my heel and heading on my way home. I stepped out of the bus and was greeted with the harsh white of snow, the piles reaching up to my ankle if not part of a paved path. I pulled my silk-lined beanie further down my head, it now covering my ears and a portion of my forehead.

"Never forget your gloves, Si." I tucked my exposed hands under my armpits, the white flurries cascading down making it a little worse.

"What?" She cut off in confusion. "Were you not listening to me at all?" She clicked her tongue, and I could imagine the look on her face, one of an unsurprised disappointment.

"I was! You were saying how King wants to take you out when he gets back from Vegas. You're nervous about going alone, so you want Jeremiah and I there as back up because we're friends already," I summarized with ease.

"Wow, that's a first." A small 'hmph' sounded. "But will you?"

"Sienna," I took a short pause to fix the scarf that had shifted the more I continued to speak. "How old are we?"

"Kiara, I'm deadass serious right now."

"So am I. But if you really feel like you need me there, I'm there."

My phone began to vibrate in my pocket, leading me to pull my hand from its cocoon of warmth. As I fumbled to unbutton my pocket, I rushed out, "Hold on, Si, someone else is calling me." Once I secured my phone, I flipped the screen, the name reading 'Manager Cameron.' "Malcolm's manager is calling me; I'll call you back." A quick goodbye was exchanged before I switched calls.

"Hey, Cameron. I'm surprised to hear from you so randomly. What's up?" I tucked my phone under my armpit as I patted my puffed up coat in search of my keys.

"Hey Kiara," he greeted, his tone sounding worried. "I wish I was calling you under better circumstances, but..."

"What happened?" I flipped for my apartment key as I ascended the few steps to my front porch.

"It's nothing too drastic, but this coming up this close to the award ceremony..."

"Cameron, you're gonna have to tell me what's up, or else I can't tell if I should be panicking or not." I unlocked my door and pushed it open, immediately making moves to take off my boots, my scarf following. I slid the plastic bag holding my tacos from the crook of my elbow and placed it on the shelf standing next to me. I glanced at myself in the mirror on the wall above the shelf as I shrugged my coat off.

"Malcolm accepted a new phone from one of the coaches from UCLA as a Christmas gift and word spread."

"Taking gifts is against the NCAA rules, isn't it?" I walked to my room and placed my phone down on my bedside table. I began stripping of my clothes as I continued, "I know that he knows that, too. What was he thinking?" I took a deep breath and shook my head as I shimmied out of my pants.

"I don't know, Kiara. All I know is that the local news outlets caught wind and ran with the story. Some articles are even claiming that this could jeopardize his chance at receiving the Mr. Basketball award."

"I didn't even know he was in the running for that." I slipped on a pair of pink and white joggers, a marble pattern swirling across the legs. "That's not important, though. I'm gonna call him and get the whole story, then come up with a game plan."

"Sounds good to me," Cameron supported. "I'm gonna see if there's anything I can do on my end. But, until then, keep me in the loop, okay?"

I pulled a white long-sleeved tee over my head, the action taking my breath as I responded, "Yeah, of course. Same to you."

The call ended and I took a deep breath. I let the air fill me up before pushing it out, my posture deflating along with my lungs. I shook my head and ran a hand over my forehead before grabbing one of my silk scarves and tying it around my hair.

I know I had gone to school for this. And I know I had interned at one of the best agencies in the country, but this was the first time I had to sit and handle a scandal by my lonesome. Nobody was standing over my shoulder this time to make sure I was forming the best plan of action possible, and that alone was a little scary.

What made the situation much more terrifying was the lingering thought in the back of my mind that the way I handle this could make or break this teenager's career. It hadn't even been twelve hours since the news broke, and there were already rumors swirling that Malcolm could lose the most prestigious basketball award the Pacific Northwest had to offer.

I grabbed the plastic bag off the counter and settled myself onto the couch. I removed the styrofoam takeout box and lifted the lid, opening up the aluminum foil to reveal the four tantalizingly delicious chicken tacos sitting in front of me. I took a singular bite, an explosion of flavor dancing around my tastebuds. Now that I've had this one taste of deliciousness, I was ready to tackle the situation in front of me.

After a few hours, I felt confident in the plan of action I had scrounged up. After speaking to Malcolm and getting a story to work off, the plan became clear in my head, allowing me to throw all the initial worries I had in my mind away.

Although I felt confident in the statement I had written, I still called Cameron back. I had agreed to keep him in the loop, yes, but I also knew a fresh pair of eyes couldn't hurt. We worked through that for no longer than 15 minutes before we both got it into a place that we were satisfied with.

About three hours after being presented with my first challenge as Malcolm's publicist, I was finally able to release the breath I was holding in. My shoulders relaxed back into my couch. The ghost of a smile crossed my lips as my mind caught up with my body and fell victim to relaxation.

After the relaxation came the elation. It had begun to dawn on me that I worked through an image crisis, from start to finish, all by myself. I grabbed my phone, needing to call somebody and tell them about my accomplishment.

The phone rang three times before the screen read connecting. The circle completed one rotation before Jeremiah's face engulfed the screen. "Hey, Boo. What's up?"

I ignored the papers sprawled in front of him. His attention was focused more on them than me as I responded, "Hey, Baby! Guess what I did today."

He looked up momentarily as he asked, "What did you do?"

His disinterest failed to phase me, my smile still as complete as ever, my tone matching my high energy. "Malcolm had a mini-crisis today, and I was able to figure it out all by myself!"

His attention pulled to me as a look of celebratory shock passed his face. "Ki, baby, that's great!" He dropped the pen that was pinched between his fingers, his palms facing upwards. "We have to celebrate!"

"I'm always down to celebrate." A smirk twitched at my lip as my eyebrow quirked.

"I'm not talking about that kind of celebrate," he chastised as he clicked his tongue. "But we can do that, too," he backpedaled, a mischievous glint to his eye. "I was thinking you could come to mine, and I could make you dinner." He shrugged as if what he had just said was nothing, but I perked up at the mention of going over to his place.

In the four months that Jeremiah and I had officially been a couple, I had not once been over to his place, while he was able to pop up at my home whenever. It was weird to me, sure, but it was even stranger to my friends, Michael, and Heaven.

I tried to defend him as best I could, but they would not stop trying to convince me that he was homeless and attempting to hide it from me. And there wasn't much I could say to dispute their claims—I didn't even know his address!

"You want me to come over to your apartment? And you're going to cook for me?" I side-eyed him, my finger poking at his face through the screen.

"That's what I just said, Baby Love, keep up." He pointed at his ear with an exaggerated look.

I clicked my tongue and rolled my eyes at him. "I can't stand you," I responded, my smile betraying me. "I've never been to your place before, is all. And you've never cooked for me, either. It's a lot of firsts happening."

"I gotta make up for all the firsts we missed. We met too late in life, Miss Suns." He smiled at me with that beautiful smile of his. That, mixed with what he had just said, had me melting from the inside out.

"Wow, you are way corny." I gazed at him with adoration, it twinkling in my eyes and pulling shyly at my lip corners. "I love you."

"I'm serious." He held his hands up, his fingers intertwined into the symbol of a promise. "I love you, too. So, I'll make you dinner tomorrow night, sound cool?"

"Yeah, tomorrow night sounds perfect." I nodded in confirmation. "I gotta double check if I have anything, but it's Sunday night, so probably not."

After that, we said quick goodbyes, him having to get back to the work he was doing beforehand and me needing to take a nap.

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