Page 27 of What the Leos Burned (BLP Signs of Love #6)

The night air shimmered with anticipation, velvet ropes lining the entrance like a crown awaiting royalty.

Flashbulbs burst like fireworks. Fans screamed names from behind barricades, and the marquee above the grand theater read in gold: “When the Rain Stops, based on the best-selling novel by Love T.”

A black luxury car with butterfly doors pulled up, sleek as it gleamed under the lights. The moment the doors lifted, the crowd roared.

Westside Zay stepped out slowly, tailored to perfection in a black Armani suit with subtle shimmer. His chain caught the light like a quiet reminder of where he came from. Cameras snapped furiously as the crowd began shouting his name from every angle. This time, he wasn’t alone.

He reached his hand back inside the car, and out stepped a girl in a gold dress with curls that cascaded down her back.

She smiled brightly, unable to contain the excitement behind her eyes, even though grace was woven into her every move.

She blinked under the lights but stood tall as Zay guided her out with quiet pride.

They walked the carpet side by side.

“Zay! Is this your niece?” one reporter yelled.

Zay paused, looked at Yana with a smile that softened every edge of him, then turned to the crowd. The pause between them all was imminent. Then, he turned to the reporter and grinned.

“No,” he said simply, “this is my daughter. Ai’yana Melendez.”

The crowd erupted. Questions flew at them like rice at a wedding.

“How old is she?”

“She’s beautiful!”

“Since when did you have a daughter?”

Zay laughed, his voice calm and unwavering. “Isn’t she beautiful? Most beautiful girl in the world.”

That was all they’d get. He’d learned to value privacy. The rest was sacred.

The cameras were flashing as they posed for more photos. Suddenly, a long black limo rolled up. The door opened, and time seemed to stand still.

Love stepped out like a vision. Her skin was kissed by the glow of the evening.

Her makeup was soft and stunning, and her hair was sculpted in loose waves that framed her face with elegance.

Her dark dress hugged her in all the right places—a shade of deep wine that made the cameras lose their minds.

Zay couldn’t look away.

When she stepped onto the carpet, reporters shouted questions to her left and right.

“How does it feel to see your book come to life?”

“Who are you wearing?”

“You look incredible!”

She stopped briefly to answer questions from a young reporter as Zay stood in place, watching her.

He not only admired her look, but the way she carried herself with elegance and grace drove him crazy.

He couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear as she turned and followed the carpet right up to where Zay and Yana stood.

Her smile was delicate but certain. Zay reached his hand out to her without thinking.

She took it like she’d always wanted to.

The three of them stood together like a family, reimagined.

The cameras went wild again with flashes that ricocheted off the velvet ropes. The questions continued, but they didn’t answer. They just smiled and waved, then walked inside.

The premiere glowed with gold-accented decor and glittering chandeliers. Many different celebrities of all aspects mingled, drinks flowed, and laughter carried through every corner. Waiters floated with trays of hors d’oeuvres. Inside the grand hall, love and art swirled in the air like perfume.

Yana’s eyes were wide with wonder as she took it all in.

Zay leaned in toward her and whispered, “Yeah, it’s nice, huh?”

She grinned.

They nibbled from small plates served by waiters in black tuxedos. It was the kind of fancy setup Love still wasn’t used to, even after months of adapting to this new world.

She excused herself for a moment, pressing a light hand to Zay’s back. “I’m gonna go speak to Malcolm. Be right back.”

Zay nodded and watched her glide away in that dress that hugged her like a memory.

She made her way across the room and greeted Malcolm near the bar. He was deep in conversation with one of the film’s producers, but his eyes lit up when he saw her.

“Love Tate in the flesh.” He grinned and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “You shut this whole premiere down tonight.”

She laughed and brushed her hair from her face. “You’re just saying that ’cause you know how nervous I was.”

Meanwhile, Yana stood frozen next to Zay. Her hands clutched a tiny gold clutch like it held her life in it. Shai had just walked over and gave Zay a hug while smiling at her like she wasn’t one of the biggest names in music.

“You look so pretty tonight,” Shai said as she pulled away from Zay’s arms. “I love your dress. That color is everything.”

Yana blinked fast. Her cheeks bloomed with heat. “Oh my God, . . . thank you. I . . . I love your music. Like, all of it.”

Shai laughed gently. “That means a lot. Are you into music like your dad?”

Yana hesitated, then nodded. “Sort of. I write songs. Just, . . . you know, for fun.”

Shai leaned in like she’d just discovered something precious. “Baby, don’t ever say just for fun. If it moves you, it’s real. Don’t minimize that.”

Yana nodded fast. “I won’t.”

Shai’s face lit up, and she brushed the back of her hand across Yana’s cheek. “Good. Keep writing, okay?”

“I will,” Yana whispered, visibly overwhelmed.

When Shai walked away, Zay chuckled. He placed a hand on Yana’s shoulder to ground her. “You good?”

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Yana exclaimed. “Shai just talked to me! Oh my God, I can’t believe it!”

Her eyes flicked up to Zay, then over toward where Love stood across the room, laughing with Malcolm, and for the first time that night, she didn’t feel like a guest in someone else’s dream.

She felt like she belonged in it too.

The announcement came that it was the start of the show, and people made their way between large double doors that opened to the theater. Zay, Love, and Yana all followed the crowd and found seats in the middle. Yana sat in between both of her parents. She gleamed brightly and proud.

When the lights dimmed and the movie began, silence swept the room.

It was raw, aching, full of hope and heartbreak. A beautiful book to film feature. Love glanced around and saw people dabbing at their eyes. Zay noticed heads nodding to certain beats and caught subtle smirks at the emotional gut punches only a real story could deliver.

Then came the final actand the music with the scene.

Zay’s voice filled the theater. His unreleased track poured from the speakers, but Love didn’t need to be told what it was.She recognized the lyrics instantly.

What the audience heard was a love story. But what she heard, . . . it was their story.

Her throat tightened. Tears escaped before she could stop them. Her chest rose and fell as if breathing had become new again.

Yana leaned over and hugged her and whispered, “Mom, you okay?”

“Yes,” Love answered between tears. “I am now, baby girl.”

When the credits rolled, the entire room rose to their feet. Applause thundered throughout the room. It was a standing ovation. People turned toward her, toward them.

Suddenly, Zay rose slowly and joined in the crowd. Yana rose then, too, clapping and smiling at her mother. Love smiled and wiped tears. She stood and waved to the room as they all cheered.

It felt like more than a premiere. It felt like a homecoming.

They skipped the after-parties.

Instead, Love and Yana met Zay at his house that was tucked in the L.A.

hills. Love’s heels sat at the front door.

She’d pulled off her dress in the car before stepping in, exchanging it for shorts and a T-shirt she had from their luggage.

Yana had done the same. The music played low, and the scent of pizza filled the air.

Yana danced barefoot to one of Zay’s new tracks. “This one’s dope,” she said.

“You think so?” He grinned. “Next time, you on the track with me, right?”

She shrugged playfully. “Maybe.” Then she yawned. “Do we have to leave tonight?”

Love and Zay exchanged a glance. He noticed a flicker of something cross her face.

“You are welcome to stay,” he said, looking to Love.

She nodded. “Of course, baby. We’ll stay.”

Just then, Yana’s phone rang.

“It’s dad. I gotta tell him all about tonight, how the one and only Shai came up to me and actually knew who I was!”

She then grinned and padded off to the room that had quietly become hers over the past few months. Zay had painted it himself.

“That girl had the time of her life, didn’t she?” He looked at Love before he stood and walked into the open kitchen. “I never seen her so excited. She was up dancing, talking to people. She really let her guard down today, huh?”

“From the red carpet to meeting Shai, . . . tonight was a lot for her.”Love’s eyes swept across the open layout as she tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, rested one hand casually on the back cushion, and turned to face him.

“This is my first time spending more than a few minutes in the house. I feel like I’ve stepped into a damn magazine. ”

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the night, reflecting the soft golden lights overhead.

The kitchen was sleek and modern with stainless steel finishes, custom lighting under glass cabinets, and framed platinum records that lined the hallway just beyond.

The place smelled faintly like cedar and citrus, with just a hint of the pizza they’d devoured earlier.

It felt expensive . . . lived in but polished. Like him.

Zay laughed from the kitchen as he reached into the illuminated cabinet for wineglasses. “Yeah, I caught you eyeing everything like you were about to start a home tour.”

She smirked. “Can you blame me? It’s giving rapper turned mogul in the best way.”

The corners of his mouth turned up as he poured the wine smoothly. “A long way from sleeping on buses and hiding studio gear in my trunk, huh?”

“Way long,” she replied.

He walked over and extended one glass out to her. Their fingers brushed, and she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. He nodded toward the patio. “Come outside with me.”

She stood and followed him toward the glass doors that led to the backyard. The night air was warm and thick with the scent of jasmine from somewhere nearby. The pool shimmered under the moonlight, a mirror to the stars overhead. It was quiet, peaceful in a way that made her chest tighten.

She dipped her feet into the water at the edge and let the coolness kiss her skin. Zay took the spot beside her, close enough to feel the hem of her shorts brush his knee.

They clinked glasses lightly.

“This movie, . . . this whole night . . .” he started, gazing out at the water, “it ended up being amazing.”

Love took a slow sip before nodding. “Yeah. I still can’t believe all this happened. Honestly, it feels like I’m floating. Like I could wake up and none of it would be real.”

He turned to her, his voice low. “Thank you . . . for letting me be part of it.”

She looked at him. “Of course. Thank you for showing up.”

He smiled. “You did it. You wrote something the world needed.”

“I just wrote what I felt.”

“Well, you felt it beautifully.”

She swirled the wine in her glass, then looked down. “Yana met her favorite artist, ate all the food, took a million selfies.”

“She better get used to that life.” Zay chuckled. “She’s got years to catch up on.”

Love grinned.

There was a moment of calm between them before he spoke again. “You really are amazing. I know I said it before, but . . . you wrote one hell of a book, and you raised a good kid.”

Her eyes welled again. “Thank you. And . . . thank you for taking this so well. I expected anger and distance. I was prepared to do this alone.”

“It would’ve been easier if I had just reached out,” he said gently.

“You saw me before anyone else did, when I had nothing. When I was just trying to survive. You loved me when I didn’t even love myself.

And even when you walked away, every lyric that ever mattered .

. . came from you. I at least owed that to you. ”

She looked at him. Her voice broke. “I never stopped loving you. Even when I tried.”

He held her gaze like he was reading the last line of a story he never wanted to end. He reached up and brushed her hair back. His thumb traced the edge of her jaw.

“You couldn’t,” he whispered. “We don’t know how to stop. Not when it’s real.”

Then he kissed her slow and deep. It wasn’t with hunger but with history. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for permission because it already belonged. It was fire without smoke. Heat without burn. A reunion, not a reintroduction.

When two Leos loved each other, it was never quiet. It was loud, even in the silence. It was war and worship in the same breath. They clashed like thunder and still chose to stay when the sky cleared. Prideful, stubborn, burning—but loyal. Always loyal.

Their love had been songs and stanzas. Loud bass and plot twists. A bridge between pages and chords. He spoke in rhythm; she wrote in metaphor. And somehow, they met in the middle of both.

Maybe that was the thing about two Leos. When the fire finally softened, what was left was gold.

That wasn’t just love.

That was home.