India Love : Composer Love

Vol.1 Unlocks Aug.11 : In Honor Of Morgan Westbrooks Birthday

India Love and DDG strolled hand-in-hand along the Santa Monica Pier, the California sunshine warm on their faces. DDG, ever the showman, pointed out the various games and attractions with an excited grin. India, her eyes sparkling, laughed at his enthusiasm. He’d insisted on a classic, old-fashioned date, eschewing the fancy restaurants and exclusive clubs they usually frequented.

"Okay, first game we're tackling is the ring toss," DDG declared, flexing his arm playfully.

DDG: "Prepare to be amazed, India. I'm a ring toss pro."

India raised a skeptical eyebrow!

India: "Oh, really? I'll believe it when I see it."

DDG spent a small fortune trying to win India a ridiculously oversized stuffed unicorn. He missed, he grumbled, he blamed the wind, he even tried to bribe the carny. India, meanwhile, was cracking up, filming his increasingly frustrated attempts on her phone. Finally, with a lucky throw (and perhaps a little nudge from the carny), he managed to get a ring around a bottle. He presented her with the unicorn, its fur matted from years of hopeful contestants, with a triumphant flourish.

"See? I told you I was a pro," he puffed, trying to catch his breath from the exertion.

India threw her arms around him, giggling. "You're adorable," she said, burying her face in the unicorn's dusty mane.

Next, they rode the Ferris wheel, the Pacific Ocean stretching out before them in a shimmering blue expanse. As they reached the top, DDG pulled out his phone and played one of his unreleased tracks, a smooth, romantic R&B tune. He looked at India, his eyes full of genuine affection.

"This one's for you," he murmured.

India leaned her head against his shoulder, listening to the music and feeling the gentle sway of the Ferris wheel. It was a perfect moment, simple and sweet.

After the Ferris wheel, they indulged in greasy pier food: corn dogs, funnel cake, and a shared strawberry lemonade. They wandered through the street performers, stopping to watch a mime and a group of breakdancers. DDG even tried to bust a move with the breakdancers, much to India's amusement (and the bemusement of the crowd).

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, they found a quiet spot on the beach. They sat in silence, watching the waves crash against the shore. DDG reached for India's hand, his fingers intertwining with hers.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "was I a good date?"

India turned to him, a soft smile on her face. "You were perfect," she said. "Thank you."

He leaned in and kissed her, a tender, lingering kiss that tasted of saltwater and strawberry lemonade. The lights of the pier twinkled behind them, reflecting in India's eyes. It was a special date, not because of the extravagance or the celebrity status, but because it was real, it was fun, and it was just them, enjoying each other's company.

As they walked back towards the car, hand-in-hand, DDG suddenly stopped.

"Wait," he said, snapping his fingers. "I almost forgot! I have one more surprise."

He led her to a small, unpretentious gelato stand tucked away near the parking lot. "They have the best pistachio gelato in LA," he declared with a conspiratorial wink.

He ordered two scoops of pistachio gelato, handing one to India. As they ate their gelato, watching the last streaks of sunlight fade from the sky, India knew that this date, with its simple pleasures and genuine connection, was one she would cherish forever. It wasn't about the fame or the fortune; it was about the feeling, the laughter, and the love. And the pistachio gelato, of course.

DDG smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Walk, India, walk," she murmured to herself, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Each step felt lighter than the last as she followed DDG, his hand warm and reassuring against the small of her back. The excitement was a fizzy drink bubbling inside her, threatening to spill over.

The luxurious hotel lobby faded into a blur as they headed outside. A sleek, black SUV waited, its tinted windows hiding whatever secrets lay inside. The driver, a man with a discreet smile and impeccable posture, opened the door for her. DDG slid in after India, his cologne a comforting, familiar scent that eased some of the nervous energy swirling within her.

The ride was surprisingly short. India peered out the window, recognizing the airport they were approaching. Not the massive international terminal, but a smaller, more exclusive one, the kind celebrities and VIPs used. Her breath hitched. A private jet? Was this really happening?

The SUV pulled up to a secluded area of the tarmac. And there it was. A gleaming, white private jet, shimmering under the afternoon sun. It looked like something straight out of a movie, sleek and powerful, a silent promise of adventure.

India’s jaw dropped. "Oh my god," she breathed, the words barely audible.

DDG chuckled, squeezing her hand. "Like it?"

"Like it? I… I love it!" She was speechless. All her previous birthdays paled in comparison to this. This wasn’t just a party or a present; this was an experience, a memory in the making.

As they stepped out of the car, a small team of uniformed staff greeted them with warm smiles. A flight attendant, elegant in a dark blue suit, extended her hand. "Welcome aboard, Ms. India. We're delighted to have you."

DDG led India towards the jet, but she hesitated, taking a moment to truly absorb the scene. The sheer extravagance of it all was almost overwhelming. She turned to DDG, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You didn't have to do this," she said softly.

He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze intense. "I wanted to, India. You deserve to be spoiled. You deserve all this and more. Now, come on," he winked, "your surprise awaits."

Taking a deep breath, India followed him up the steps and into the jet. The interior was even more breathtaking than she had imagined. Plush leather seats, gleaming wood paneling, and soft, ambient lighting created an atmosphere of opulence and comfort. She sank into one of the chairs, feeling the luxurious leather mold to her body.

A flight attendant offered her a glass of champagne. India accepted, the bubbles tickling her nose as she took a sip. DDG sat beside her, his arm casually draped around her shoulders.

"So," she said, her voice trembling with excitement, "where are we going?"

DDG leaned in close, whispering in her ear, "That's the surprise. You'll find out soon enough. Just relax, enjoy the flight, and trust me, you're going to love it."

The engines whirred to life, a low, powerful hum that vibrated through the cabin. India looked out the window as the jet began to taxi down the runway. As they ascended, she watched the ground shrink below, the city transforming into a miniature landscape. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple.

The world stretched out before her, a canvas of possibilities. She looked at DDG, his eyes sparkling in the soft light of the cabin. He had given her the ultimate gift – an adventure, a memory, and a promise of something extraordinary to come.

As the jet soared through the clouds, India smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that reached her eyes. She didn't know where they were going, but she knew, with absolute certainty, that this birthday was going to be unforgettable. She snuggled closer to DDG, letting the anticipation wash over her. The sky was the limit, and she was ready to fly. The surprise, whatever it was, could wait. For now, she was content to simply be, in this moment, with him.

The hum of the private jet engines was a constant, comforting drone. DDG, sprawled in a plush leather seat, scrolled through his phone, occasionally chuckling. Across from him, India Love, impossibly glamorous even in sweatpants, sipped from a glass of something sparkling and amber.

“You’re awfully quiet,” DDG said, glancing up, his diamond-encrusted chain glinting in the sunlight streaming through the window.

India sighed theatrically. “Just…thinking. About everything. It’s crazy, isn’t it? One minute you’re grinding, the next you’re…this.” She gestured around the luxuriously appointed cabin. The air smelled of expensive leather and possibility.

“Yeah, it is,” DDG agreed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Remember those days in Pontiac? Ramen noodles and hustling every chance we got?”

India laughed, a melodic sound. “Don’t remind me. I swear I’m still traumatized by the taste of chicken-flavored ramen. But hey, at least we knew where we were going. Hungry, maybe, but with a clear goal.”

“And now?” DDG prompted, raising an eyebrow.

India swirled the liquid in her glass, her gaze distant. “Now…it’s complicated. More choices, more pressures. Figuring out who to trust, what’s real…it’s a headache.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. They’d been through so much together, navigating the treacherous waters of fame and fortune. They understood each other in a way few others could.

DDG broke the silence. “Speaking of headaches…did you see Duke Dennis’s latest stream?”

India groaned. “Don’t even get me started. That man…he’s chaotic energy personified.”

“Chaotic, but entertaining,” DDG countered, a grin spreading across his face. “Remember that time he tried to…what was it…cook spaghetti in a coffee maker?”

India burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I’d almost blocked that out of my memory! The fire alarm was blaring for an hour! The smell…”

“He’s a walking disaster, but that’s why people love him,” DDG said, shaking his head. “He’s so unapologetically himself. No filter, no pretense. Just pure, unfiltered Duke.”

“True,” India conceded. “And you know, for all the chaos, he genuinely cares about his community. He does a lot for them, quietly.”

“Exactly! He’s got a good heart, even if it’s buried under layers of…well, Duke-ness,” DDG chuckled. "Remember when he tried to teach me how to play basketball? That was a disaster of epic proportions."

"You and sports are not a match made in heaven, Darryl," India said playfully, using his real name. "Stick to the music."

They spent the next hour recounting their favorite Duke Dennis moments: the disastrous cooking attempts, the hilariously bad fashion choices, the surprisingly insightful moments when he dropped his guard and spoke from the heart. They analyzed his appeal, the way he’d built a loyal following by being genuine and relatable.

Vol.2 Unlocks December 24: In Honor Of Brooke Westbrooks Birthday