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wings-of-sapphire · 17 days ago

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Black Sheep

Zoey and Rumi shield Mira from uncomfortable questions during an interview.

It was rare for Mira to regret a song. She loved making music. She loved planning out the moves that would make the lyrics hit that much harder or emphasize just the right elements. She loved working with her girls, mixing their talents to create the best art they possibly could.

But by God, she would regret Black Sheep until the day she died.

Not making it. Working with Zoey to write the lyrics had been therapeutic in its own way, and sitting in the recording booth with Rumi to get the vocals down had made for a genuinely fun afternoon. But had she known the stir it would cause among the fans, she never would've allowed it to be released.

Already, it lacked the fanfare of most of Huntr/x's discography. It had never been promoted or performed live. It didn't have an official music video. Mira had made it for herself, held onto it for nearly a year, then agreed for it to be quietly released as a bonus track in an album that frankly had no business holding the outlet for all of Mira's mixed-up emotions about her home life.

The fans had gone wild for it in all the wrong ways. In-depth lyrical analyses prodded at Mira's pain, trying to unravel metaphors that didn't exist to be understood. Online theorists assigned meaning that didn't match reality, deciding on their own who certain lines were directed toward and why. Overnight, Mira had a new identity. The black sheep of her family. The problem child who had run away to become an idol. The dramatic story everyone felt entitled to.

The kicker was that the song didn't even tell much on its own. While the lyrics alluded to a repressive childhood, failing to meet and eventually breaking free of expectations, they said nothing of the emotional abuse. The silence. The isolation. The threats and ultimatums. Her name scrubbed the family tree the moment she left their house and their lives.

It was an incomplete puzzle. A story told through heavy metaphor that relied on prior context. The picture would not accurately form for anyone but her just off the lyrics alone. It hadn't been written to be digestible for anyone else.

But everyone wanted the breakdown. The fans. The press. Everyone. The only thing stopping them from prying her personal life and past wide open was the fact that she'd changed her last name at 18, a solid two years before the formation of Huntr/x, and never told anyone. Her current name drew a blank for anyone scouring the internet for information. No one knew to look for the original, and her blood relations certainly weren't keen on making themselves known.

The only way to get the full story was from Mira herself, and some were relentless.

There had been a set of obligatory interviews and television appearances to promote the album as a whole, and at every single one of them, no one could just accept that the song was a personal endeavor not meant to be explained. So, when questioned about Black Sheep, Mira smiled and lied through her teeth. The song was about her experiences as a wild, untamable child. It was a celebration of the coarse attitude that had endeared her to fans. It was about the way she acted, and not the way she'd been treated.

Huntr/x refused appearances for months after the fact, until they had something new to take the attention elsewhere. When they returned, it was with a strict new rule that Bobby enforced like lives depended on it.

Do NOT ask about Black Sheep.

But the damage was done. They couldn't very well retract the song; not when it would always be reuploaded somewhere and suddenly deleting all official avenues for listening would only fan the flames. Mira just had to steer clear of certain corners of the internet that would never stop theorizing and accept that the "black sheep" narrative had become a part of her persona.

That was what she got for trying to be vulnerable in her art. For expecting anyone to not try to take more than she gave them.

Honestly, she didn't blame people for wondering. She'd invited that by letting the song go public. But she wished they would just leave her alone.

And they did, eventually. For the most part.

Years passed. Huntr/x released new, better songs. Two albums, four singles. How It's Done became their best crowd-pleaser. They had an insanely successful world tour. Then Golden, Takedown, and What It Sounds Like dropped in quick succession and suddenly all anyone cared about was Huntr/x's brilliant shared narrative with the Saja Boys, Rumi's "rare skin condition", and whether the latter two songs would officially release with Golden as an EP.

Black Sheep gradually drifted behind her, even though it had affected the way she presented herself to the world. Even though she still sometimes came across outlandish theories that claimed she'd actually killed her family, or they were all criminals that she'd disowned. Even though sometimes people got it right and guessed that her parents just didn't like her, weren't shy about it, and were probably homophobic too, if the theories about her queerness were to be believed.

Whenever it upset her, Rumi and Zoey were right there. They were the only ones who knew the whole of it, because they were the only ones who had never pushed for it. Even when helping her to make Black Sheep, they never took more than she gave them, and eventually she'd felt safe enough to let them in. They were the only ones who deserved to know. The only ones who wanted her to talk for her and not for them.

It was all she'd really wanted out of Black Sheep. For someone to know she was in pain, see her, and listen. Mira wished she'd just kept it within the group.

But she hadn't, and she was still reaping the consequences over three years later.

The interview was supposed to be for Huntr/x's latest comeback. Under those hot stage lights, on camera, sandwiched between Rumi and the arm of a stiff couch, Mira was supposed to be safe. This interviewer who blended in with the dozens of others she'd spoken with over the years could only stray so far from the topic at hand. And yet...

"So, Mira." He leaned forward, flashing her a bright smile. "I'd love to talk about the Golden music video. I found your section very interesting. How do your parents feel about your portrayal of them?"

Mira's eye twitched. Beside her, Rumi seemed to sit up a little straighter.

"Golden isn't really about anyone else in our lives," she replied smoothly. "It's about our experiences and how they made us feel. My part isn't about my parents. It's about not fitting in as a kid."

"That's right!" Zoey added, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Mine is really similar. Growing up with two cultures and two homes and not really fitting into either of them."

"Yes. Golden is about finding our place in the world," Rumi finished with a perfect, polished smile. Mira shot them both a grateful look.

Unfortunately, this guy either couldn't take a hint or simply didn't care to.

"But this is the first time you've shown your family in any of your work."

"Well, that wasn't actually my family. They were hired actors for the video." Mira did her best to keep her voice even. "My family are very private people."

"And they're still alright with being the subjects of your music?" the interviewer pressed on. "If I recall correctly, this isn't the first time you've sung about them. A few years ago, you released a song called Black Sheep."

Oh, Bobby was going to kill someone for that, provided Mira didn't beat him to it. But she couldn't call out this violation of terms on camera. She could only deflect to the best of her ability.

"Black Sheep is a deeply personal song," she said, her fists clenching in her lap. "A lot of people make assumptions about what it means."

Whatever the interviewer meant to say next never made it out of his mouth. Mira didn't know whether it was the motion or Rumi's sharp gasp that caught her attention. All she knew was that one second, she was answering a series of uncomfortable questions, and the next Zoey was pitching forward off the couch like a ragdoll.

She hit the floor with an echoing thud. For a moment, everybody was frozen. Waiting to see if she'd get up and laugh it off. Poke fun at her own clumsiness. Lament the meme that her tumble was bound to become. She didn't move.

"Zoey!" Rumi slid off the couch beside her, and the entire room erupted into chaos.

Someone screamed at someone else to cut the camera. Crew began scrambling; some to attend to Zoey and some to handle the footage. Bobby came sprinting out from somewhere backstage. The interviewer stared, dumbfounded.

"Holy shit." Mira didn't even remember getting up. She simply appeared at Zoey's side, heart beating fast, grabbing for her shoulder. "Zo? Zo?!"

Rumi waved off people attempting to crowd them, allowing only Bobby and some random guy with a bottle of water to get close. By the time anybody had their wits about them to consider calling an ambulance, Zoey was beginning to move again. Her eyes flicked around, taking in the pandemonium.

"Hey, Zoey," Rumi said gently. "You're okay, sweetie. We've got you. The cameras are off."

Zoey immediately began trying to sit up, but Mira wouldn't let her. She guided the smaller girl back down, offering her lap as a pillow.

"Don't get up," she murmured, a wave of relief sweeping over her.

"I'm alright," Zoey insisted, admittedly sounding pretty steady for someone who had just been dead weight on the floor.

"You just fainted." Mira whispered to her. "Take a minute, okay?"

Bobby took the water bottle, cracked it open, and knelt down to offer it to Zoey. "You might have gotten a little dehydrated. Were you feeling sick? Dizzy?"

"I guess." Zoey took a few slow sips of water as Mira guided the bottle to her mouth. When she was done, she glanced at the crowd of onlookers and said, "can we go back to the green room?"

Mira glanced at Rumi, unsure. Rumi gave her a quick nod, and the two of them took Zoey by the arms to help her to her feet. No one stopped them as they made their way offstage, Bobby trailing a few steps behind.

When she noticed him, Rumi called over her shoulder, "we've got her. Can you handle things out here?"

He gave her a dutiful nod and turned back around to face the chaos they'd left behind.

Both Rumi and Mira kept an arm around Zoey the whole way, trying to take as much of her weight as possible, but she didn't seem to need it. She carried herself perfectly fine all the way to the green room, then flopped down on a plush sofa in much the same manner as she always did.

"How are you feeling now?" Mira asked, taking a seat beside her.

"Oh, I'm fine," Zoey replied cheerfully. "I was pretending."

"What?!" Mira stared at her, bewildered and a little upset. "Why?! You scared the shit out of us!"

Zoey gave her an awkward grin, her expression sheepish but not exactly sorry. Rumi answered for her.

"It was to get you out of answering that question," she said. "Neither of us wanted to let that guy keep grilling you."

"Did you know she was faking?" Mira demanded.

"I suspected," Rumi replied. "She gave me this look right before she fell."

Mira let out a long, slow sigh. If she really thought about, she supposed this was the best-case scenario. At least her girlfriend hadn't actually passed out mid-interview, and she supposed the gesture in itself was kind of sweet. Still...

"You faked a medical emergency to get me out of answering an uncomfortable question?"

Zoey nodded slowly. "I just thought it might take the attention off you and they would forget about it. They shouldn't have asked about Black Sheep at all, but we couldn't say anything, so-"

"Honey, I love you for that," Mira said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "but please never scare me like that again. I thought something was really happening to you."

"I'm sorry..." Zoey hit her with those big, adorable, apologetic eyes, and Mira couldn't help but kiss her forehead in return.

"It's okay," she murmured. "Thank you for trying to help, but you guys don't need to do stuff like that. I can handle myself. It's my fault anyway for releasing that song. I basically invited people to ask."

"You never wanted to release it," Rumi chimed in quietly. "Celine and I convinced you. It was supposed to be yours."

"Babe-"

The door suddenly opened behind them, and a meek-looking woman from the crew poked her head in.

"Is everything alright?" she asked. "Everyone is very concerned."

"We're fine," Mira replied as she stood. "Zoey was just dehydrated and overheated from the stage lights. You might want to talk to someone about not having them so close."

"O-of course," the woman stammered. "But, if you're all okay, we were wondering if we could finish up the interview? Or at least get that last question answered."

Mira's jaw tightened. Concerned. What a joke. For their show, maybe. Not for the performer that, as far as everyone else knew, had just blacked out and cracked her head on the stage.

"You can't be serious," Rumi said lowly, a vaguely familiar glint in her eye. A look she typically reserved for threats and not crew members that had probably drawn the short straw to be the one to come in here and make this request.

"It would only take a few minutes," the woman insisted. "She won't have to answer any more questions. We just want to get Mira's response for-"

"No one is answering anything else," Rumi declared as she strode forward. "Questions about Black Sheep are off-limits, and if you seriously expect us to put Zoey back on that stage right now, you're dreaming."

The woman shrank back under Rumi's scathing gaze, and Mira almost felt a little bad for her. Or, would have, had she not kept going.

"It's just... the network, and-"

"The network doesn't come before my girls," Rumi growled.

Literally. Teeth bared and everything. Her fangs hadn't popped out yet, but Mira could tell they were close.

"Babe..." Mira warned, because they absolutely did not need the PR disaster of Rumi going feral on a random member of a tv crew behind the scenes.

Rumi, though she didn't seem particularly happy about it, took a deep, steadying breath as she prepared to level with the woman.

"Look," she said, "I know you're just doing your job, but please tell your higher-ups that we are not going back out there. One of my girls is sick, and the other was getting questioned on a topic I'm sure our manager communicated was not to be brought up. This interview is over, and at this rate, I don't think there's going to be another one."

"I-"

"We would appreciate some privacy now." Rumi's cold, flat tone finally seemed to seal the matter. The woman nodded, looking more than a little unsettled, and fled the room.

"That was kind of hot," Zoey said as soon as the door closed.

"Extremely hot," Mira agreed. "But seriously, you guys don't have to do all this to protect me."

"Of course we do." Rumi seemed offended at the very suggestion of the contrary. Mira let out a small sigh.

"It's not your fault I released the song," she insisted. "You don't have to make it up to me or protect me from the consequences. You don't owe me anything, okay? You don't need to make a scene or risk your reputation for me."

"It's not about owing things or whose fault it was," Rumi said sternly.

More gently, Zoey added, "we just want you to feel safe out there. You shouldn't have to go through that."

"It's what we do." Rumi stepped closer and gently cupped Mira's face with one hand. "We protect you because you're ours. We love you."

At that, something within Mira began to slowly crack open. When Zoey stood up and wrapped them both up in her arms, the dam broke, and she suddenly burst into tears. Not because she wasn't used to them holding her or telling her that they loved her, but because they were claiming her. Calling her theirs.

She knew she was, and had for a long time, but for it to be said so plainly and matter-of-factly did something for that little girl in Mira's heart that would have done anything for someone not to be ashamed to say she was theirs. To come to her with it and not make her beg for scraps of affection. To say it even when she pushed back and argued. Even when meaning it meant doing something stupid mid-interview or chasing film crew out of the room.

"Mira?" Rumi asked, searching her face.

"Thank you," Mira whimpered.

"Aww, Mira..." Zoey sounded close to tears herself. She nuzzled into Mira's shoulder, her grip tightening.

"How about we get out of here?" Rumi began gingerly wiping Mira's tears away. "I'm pretty sure Zoey's stunt just got us the rest of the day off. We could grab something to eat on the way home and have some couch time."

"And maybe go to that boba place you like," Zoey offered.

Mira wasn't often on the receiving end of the poor baby, don't cry, let's get you some of your favorite thing routine. In fact, she was usually the one setting up turtle videos when Zoey cried or coaxing Rumi out of her room when she was having a bad day. As a rule, she hated crying in front of people. But with these two, it wasn't so bad.

"Okay." Mira sniffed, took a breath, and blinked a few times. "Okay, that sounds good. But seriously, no more faking medical emergencies."

"Fine," Zoey said, "but can Rumi still growl at people?"

Rumi gave her best charming smile, and Mira scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"If you want to be known among film crews for growling at people off camera, be my guest," she decided.

"Good," Rumi replied, satisfied. "Now let's go find some dinner. Your pick."

Grinning, Zoey began to pull them both in the direction of the door. Mira followed readily, chuckling at her excited little bounces. It didn't matter that they were technically ditching the day's schedule, or that the network was probably going to have a meltdown, or that this was almost definitely not going to be the last time someone pried into Mira's past for publicity.

She didn't care. Right now, with Zoey leading her by one hand and Rumi holding the other, she was right where she belonged.

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