Page 75 of Love's Free Will

She tapped her screen and turned it toward me.

A headline from Tea And Honey glared in bold:

TEA AND HONEY EXCLUSIVE

“From Flame to Fizzle: Royal Teegan and Averi St. Claire Call It Quits—Sources Say ‘It Was Never That Deep’”

Whew, child! We told y’all it was too good to be true. Sources close to the brief but very real romance between rapper Royal Teegan and Grammy-winning producer Averi St. Claire have confirmed the duo are “no longer a thing.”

While neither party has officially commented on the breakup, insiders say the tension between the two is “thick enough to cut with a knife.” The pair were seen at industry events keeping a noticeable distance from each other, despite St. Claire producing a majority of tracks on Teegan’s upcoming album, Concrete Roses.

We can’t help but wonder if this will affect the rollout—or if one of them will finally tell their side of the story.

Swipe for more photos of their iconic, if short-lived, situationship—including THAT kiss at Creed Langston and Serenity Bradshaw’s wedding.

Kylei gave me a look. “You wanna talk about it?”

I leaned back; arms crossed. “Ain’t much to talk about. I did what I could.”

“She’s the one?” I didn’t answer, just rubbed a hand down my face, slow. “I get it,” Kylei said after a pause. “You’re grieving, and relationships get messy when you haven’t healed. But you gotta remember, Royal…this”—she tapped the folder—“this is your future. You gotta stay locked in.”

“I am,” I said, sitting up. “Trust me. I’m not letting nothin and nobody get in the way of this. If I gotta bury the soft shit to make this album what it needs to be, so be it.”

She nodded. “Good. Cause we got Beats by Dre and Hennessy in the mix now.”

That got my attention. “What?”

“Beats wants you for two events. One private influencer dinner—press, industry folks, and some curated creators who actually know music. Then a live performance-slash-interview session, where you break down your creative process.”

I nodded. “I can do that.”

“Henny’s doing a ‘Block to Boardroom’ campaign—they want you front and center. You’ll have full creative control. Real visuals. Grit. Your story.”

“And the tour?” I asked asking about the one thing I really cared about. A tour was going to be a much needed distraction for everything.

She grinned. “Twenty cities. Starting late spring. You’re headlining, but we’ll round it out with some fire openers—up-and-coming artists, women in hip hop, the next generation. We’re putting you in a leadership position, not just a stage.”

I flipped open the folder, scanned the timeline. Every inch of me wanted to be hyped—but something still felt hollow. “I’m in,” I said quietly.

Kylei stood and extended her hand. “Then let’s get to work.”

I stood too and shook it. “And Kylei?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for believing in me—even when I’m a fuckin’’ mess.”

She smirked. “I never doubted the music. Just the man. Don’t prove me wrong.”

On the way home the Escalade glided down Sunset, tinted windows filtering the afternoon glare, while our driver—Andy drove like we weren’t in a hundred-thousand-dollar whip and two lanes over from a paparazzi hotspot.

I had one arm slung across the back seat, head leaned against the rest, mind still rolling through everything Kylei laid out in the meeting. Endorsement deals, tour dates, press runs and promo. She was already operating ten steps ahead, and I could see why Lux trusted her with his whole brand. She moved like a boss.

My phone buzzed in my lap displaying my mama’s name and picture. I picked it up, already knowing the energy she was bringing before I even hitaccept.

“Yeah, Ma.”

“You alive?” Queenie’s voice rang warm and laced with attitude. “I got one child in the grave and another one that don’t return phone calls. You tryin’ to join King or what?”

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