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AVERI

I wasn’t expecting him to say it. Not like that. Not out loud. Not in front of everyone.

“You the love of my life.”

He said it so easily, like he’d been holding it on his tongue for months and finally decided to let it free. Like it was just true, and it didn’t matter who heard it.

I’d been standing near Egypt and Serenity, trying not to cry, pretending I wasn’t affected—but truth be told, it rocked me. Shook me down to my core. The warmth in my chest hasn’t faded since.

And the internet wasted no time. By the time I was back in my apartment—still in my dress, makeup barely smudged—I’d already seen four different posts from Tea And Honey, TMZ, The Shade Room and Lipstick Confidential. There were tweets, TikToks, and articles titled things like:

“From Sneaky Links to Soulmates?”

Royalty Teegan publicly declares his love for actress/songwriter/producer Averi St. Claire during Concrete Roses listening party.

“This Is Not a Drill: He Loves That Girl.”

Fans react to Royal’s tear-jerking speech and Averi’s reaction.

It was surreal.

I should’ve been asleep hours ago, but instead I was curled up on my couch with my dress still on from the party, his hoodie engulfing me, rewatching clips from the party that had already been uploaded online.

The shot of him standing under that soft amber lighting, thanking everyone, looking so grown… so vulnerable, my heart ached.

And all I could think was, why am I here at home alone and not with him? It was the first time in a long time where I felt the urge to close the gap. To stop running. To be near him without my fear talking me out of it.

So, I stood up and went into my bedroom. Then I grabbed my overnight bag from the closet, tossed in some clothes, my makeup wipes, a bonnet, and my little silk pajama set. No hesitation.

The drive through the Hills was quiet. L.A. was winding down for the night, but my mind was racing. It was nearly 3AM, booty call hours but I wasn’t on that. Not tonight. Tonight, I was on a mission to finalize this thing between us once and for all.

His house was still lit up when I arrived. The glow from the backyard spilled through the windows, and I could hear faint music coming from somewhere nearby.

After parking and getting my bag from the trunk, I walked up the short set of steps to his front door.

I rang the bell, heart in my throat. Moments later, the door opened.

He was barefoot in a fitted black tee and gray basketball shorts, the scent of weed clinging to his skin. His eyes widened when he saw me.

“Ave?”

I held up my bag like it was an explanation. “I didn’t wanna be alone.”

His expression softened instantly before a smile spread across his face. “Come in.”

He stepped aside and took the bag from my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We walked upstairs in silence. The house was quiet—Queenie and Princess must’ve gone to bed.

When we stepped into his room, I saw the sliding glass doors were cracked open, music floating in from the balcony.

A soft beat looped under a mellow bassline.

It was something new, just an instrumental.

“You were out there?” I asked.

He nodded, placing my bag at the foot of the bed. “Just vibin’. Thinkin’. Tryna come down from tonight.”

I kicked off my slides, “Can I join you?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

“I’mma go shower right quick and put my pajamas on first.” He nodded before heading out to the balcony.

I went into my bag, grabbed my toiletries and pajamas before going into the ensuite bathroom.

The shower was quick, enough time to clean myself, wash the makeup off my face and then I was out and getting dressed in my silk pajamas.

I threw the hoodie back on, knowing it was a little chilly out before heading for the balcony.

The balcony overlooked the city, the lights below twinkling like stars flipped upside down.

Royal had been lounging on one of the chaises.

As soon as I walked onto the balcony, he pulled me down into his lap, immediately engulfing me in his arms. He had a half-burned blunt between his fingers, relighting it then taking a pull from it.

“Damn,” he whispered exhaling smoke. His eyes roaming my frame, the thin material from my pajamas clung to my chocolate skin almost like it was painted on, “You so fuckin’ fine.”

I giggled. “You been drinking as well as smoking?”

“Not enough to say anything I don’t mean.”

He took another slow pull and then pressed his mouth to mine, blowing the smoke between my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, all I heard was the bassline and our breathing. We didn’t need to say anything. We just were.

“I’m proud of you,” I said after a while.

He looked at me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Everything about tonight… the album, the energy, the way people reacted. You did that.”

He nodded. “It still don’t feel real.”

“It is. You were a fan favorite before, but with Concrete Roses; Royal, you’re about to take off.”

He kissed the side of my neck softly. “I meant everything I said tonight, Ave.”

I swallowed. “Even the part about me being the love of your life?”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Especially that part.”

“Why’d you say it out loud? In front of all those people?”

“’Cause I felt it,” he answered simply with a shrug. “Didn’t plan it. Didn’t rehearse it. Just… looked at you and knew I had to say it.” I bit my lip, my eyes stinging. “I hope you don’t mind; I know the internet been going crazy all night,” he added.

“I don’t mind,” I whispered. “I loved every second of it.” He stared at me for a long time, and I knew he could tell I was building up to something.

“I love you too Royal,” I said. His mouth parted slightly but relief flashed in his eyes.

He’s said it to me so many times, but I had refused to say it back, afraid to admit my feelings out loud.

“I’ve loved you for a while,” I added. “But I was scared… of what that meant, of how it would change things. But I’m done running. I just wanna be with you.”

Royal exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for months. “Damn Ave…”

“But…” I continued wanting to make sure I said everything I needed to say. “I still don’t know how this is gonna work long distance. I know you’re probably going back to Atlanta soon. You only came here for the rollout.”

He brushed my curls behind my ear. “I been thinkin’ about that too. And yeah, I did come out here only for business. The label is transitioning from the Atlanta office to the LA location full time. So, I decided I wanna move out here. Permanently.”

My heart skipped. “You serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said. “My team’s here. Label, management. And you. Besides, I need a fresh start. Atlanta will always be home, but L.A.? This where I’m supposed to be next.”

“And what about Queenie and Princess? Won’t they need you?”

“They good. I talked to Queenie already—she said she figured I’d end up here.

Princess is grown and thriving at Spelman.

Queenie got her own life. And I’ll go back when I need to.

But for now? This is what’s best for me.

Plus, Zay ain’t tryna leave, he met some chick at Ace of Diamonds and been all in her skin since. ”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “You sure?”

He nodded. “I want you, Averi. I want this, I want us. No more situationships. No more back and forth. Let’s stop playing.”

I kissed him. Deep and slow. Like an answer. “I want this too,” I whispered. “I don’t ever wanna be apart again.” We sat like that for a minute, arms wrapped around each other, the whole city glowing beneath us.

“I love you, Ave” he said again, voice rough in my ear.

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t perfect. It was real, raw and most importantly it was ours. And after everything—every fight, every misstep, every heartbreak—we chose each other again. This time, for real.

The lights were low, just the way I liked them when I needed to get out of my head.

The second room in my condo that I’d made into a small makeshift studio smelled like incense, black cherry and sandalwood. The last time I lit it was months ago—back when I thought the only thing music would be for me was therapy, not love.

I sat behind my keyboard, legs tucked underneath me, an oversized hoodie swallowing my frame. His hoodie, of course. The one I once borrowed and never gave back. The same one I wore the other night as his home when I had finally said those three little words to him, out loud.

I wasn’t working on anything for LA Records tonight. No artists. No deadlines. No pressure. This wasn’t for my catalog. This wasn’t for a feature or a placement. This was just… for me.

The beat was slow, soft. A piano loop laced with strings and a kick I could feel in my chest. I’d been working on it for weeks before things blew up between me and Royal back in Atlanta and hadn’t touched it since.

Now that we were back on solid ground, my emotions were finally catching up.

The kind of feelings I couldn’t say out loud—not even to him. Not yet.

So, I wrote.

You were thunder in the silence

A little reckless, little wildin’

But I saw the crown under pressure

The war behind your smile

You ain’t ask to be my safe place

But you became my peace

Now when I say “Royalty”

I’m not talkin’ gold, I mean you and me.

My fingers trembled over the keys as I laid the melody down.

A tear slipped out before I even realized I was crying.

This wasn’t about the drama, or the games, or the back-and-forth we’d survived.

This was about the stillness. The way he held me now.

The way he showed up and never left again. This was my way of expressing our love.

A week later, I laid down the vocals for his song—no, our song. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming into the studio tonight—not Egypt, not my new engineer Terry, not even Royal who I knew was also here. I needed space. I needed quiet and stillness. I needed for it to be just me and the music.

The Aaliyah Booth at LA Records was empty and had quickly become my favorite studio in the building, lights dimmed the way I liked them—mellow blue tones bouncing off the panels, the vocal mic waiting on me like an old friend.

I placed my tea on the desk, checked the levels on the board, and slipped my headphones over my ears.

The track was already loaded—my beat, my words, my heart. I’d recorded a rough demo weeks ago, but I wasn’t ready to lay the full vocal until now. Not until I could sing it without falling apart.

I dimmed the booth light until I was bathed in darkness.

Just the track and me. That’s how I knew it was real—when I didn’t need to see anything, just feel it.

I pressed record and closed my eyes. The piano loop started—gentle, familiar.

Like walking into a version of myself I almost lost. Then I opened my mouth.

You showed up when the silence got too loud

When my heart forgot what steady felt like…

My voice cracked a little on the second line but still, I kept going.

You didn’t ask me to let you in,

But you waited ‘til I opened up that night…

You were thunder in the silence… a little reckless, little wildin’...

The hook slipped out of me like a prayer.

With every word, I felt the tension fall from my shoulders.

I remembered every moment that led me here—our fights, our silences, the studio sessions where we acted like strangers just to protect ourselves.

This song wasn’t about anger or pain anymore.

It was about survival. Softness. The kind of love that grows after the fire.

I sang the second verse with more strength.

You loved me through my ugly… even when I made it hard to breathe…

My voice floated over the chords, dipping into falsetto, then catching flame in the bridge.

You didn’t save me…

You just loved me while I learned how to save myself…

Once the song ended, there was a brief silence, a moment for me to reflect and to gather my emotions. I pulled the headphones off slowly, blinking against the weight in my chest.

That’s when I heard it—a sound in the hallway. The door creaked slightly open. I turned and there Royal was, leaning against the doorframe in a hoodie and sweats, hood half up, eyes locked on mine like he’d just walked in on a secret.

“Didn’t know you were coming in tonight; I was on my way to Biggie and thought I heard you.” he said quietly. I didn’t answer, couldn’t. My throat was still tight. He stepped inside, slowly, like he didn’t want to break the moment. “That for me?” he asked, nodding toward the booth.

My lips parted, then closed again. I didn’t want to admit it. But the truth was clear between us.

“Yeah.”

“It’s beautiful baby,” he said. “The way you see me... See us.”

I shrugged, looking down at the console. “I didn’t know if I was ever gonna let anybody hear it.”

He stepped closer. “I’m glad you did.”

A brief silence passed between us. Then I said, voice barely above a whisper, “I needed to say it. Even if it was just for me.”

His eyes softened. “It’s for both of us.” He reached for my hand and held it like it was made of glass. “You are an amazing woman Averi St. Claire. I love the fuck outta you.”

“Good, you better.”