Untitled

by Jackie Chanel

  The Power Jam Summer Tour has been the biggest hip-hop concert of the summer for the past four or five years. The lineup always includes rappers and singers from other labels and all of the Power artists, but it’s a hip-hop tour.

  “Why am I going on that tour?” I asked. “I thought I was touring on my own this summer.” It doesn’t make sense.

  “That’s makes no sense,” Roxy stated. “Hip hop fans aren’t listening to Aiden’s music. What are you up to?”

  “Aiden has an all black band,” Dre reminded Roxy.

  “Aiden’s band backs him up,” Roxy said. “You can’t use them to market his music. He’s a solo artist.”

  “We’re not using his band to market him, but in reality, his band is the main reason why people like him, especially black people,” Dre replied.

  “I think this is a huge mistake,” Roxy stated. For once she and I are on the same page.

  “What you’re asking Aiden to do is go on stage in front of arenas full of black folks and play mainstream pop music that they aren’t listening to. That’s like asking the Backstreet Boys to open for Jay-Z.”

  “No it’s not,” Rayshawn laughed. “Don’t doubt Aiden’s swagger. He’s been playin’ for black people for a couple of years now, right? He knows what to do.”

  “Yeah, but that was in a blues bar, playing blues music,” I clarified.

  “And where do you think rap and R&B music came from?” Dre asked. “Our people need a little education on the origins of music. And if we gotta put a white boy on the stage to do it, then so be it.”

  “So, I can play the blues?” I asked. If so, then this tour idea was starting to sound better.

  “Play what feels right. You know how to judge a crowd. You’re probably the only artist out right now who can garner the attention of die hard hip-hop fans and the same people who worship Elvis. You got what it takes. All we’re tryin’ to do is showcase it,” Dre replied.

  I looked at Roxy, unsure if I have a say so in the decision. I’m still not too clear on who’s really running things. If the record label says you go on tour, then you go, right?

  “Then, let’s talk dollars here,” Roxy said. “This tour isn’t in his contract. If he goes on tour with Power artists in the summer, that means he can’t headline his own tour until late fall. We didn’t agree to that.”

  The three of them started talking number and figures and contract terminology that I didn’t even try to understand. None of it really interests me. I had to keep forcing myself to pay attention, simply because Joey’s words kept ringing in my mind.

  “You gotta be in charge of your own career boy. Those women gon fuck around and leave your ass broke.”

  I don’t believe that for a second. Sunny negotiated a hell of a deal with Power and Roxy fine tuned it to make sure that I’m getting more from them than any other artist. After all, I pay my band, not Power. Plus, I spend most of my time on the road. They’re not really doing anything except putting their name behind my music.

  Chapter 30

  “Aiden, I swear, you’re getting on my nerves!” Sunny grumbled. “Why can’t you act like you’re the least bit interested in getting prepared for this damn tour?”

  We’re supposed to be shopping but I can’t help the throng of girls following us around Lenox Mall. This is Sunny’s fault. Who goes shopping for tour clothes at Lenox Mall on a damn Saturday?

  “I am prepared,” I said as I signed another autograph. “I don’t need new clothes. I have plenty of clothes.”

  “You cannot go on stage every night in jeans and a t-shirt.”

  “I can and I will,” I argued back. “No one is looking at my clothes anyway. They’re all going to be looking at Erica. Maybe you two should be shopping.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I answered it. I’ve been waiting on Paulie to call me all day.

  “What’s up, man?” I said. “What’s the word?”

  “I got it!” he yelled into my ear.

  For two months, Paulie has been flying back and forth to Los Angeles to work with this guy that his father knows who owns a law firm. The last two weeks he’s been on edge, wondering if the guy was going to pick him to be one of his interns. If so, Paulie would be going to law school in California.

  “My dad and I are flying out Wednesday to find me a place. Aiden, you have to come out there!”

  “To live?” I asked, liking the idea quite a bit.

  “Hell yeah!”

  “But my tour starts next month,” I said. “I can’t move out there yet. Besides, my label and my manager are here in Atlanta.”

  Sunny looked at me sharply. She couldn’t hear Paulie but I’m sure she knows what’s going on. We’ve been talking about it for months.

  “So what,” Paulie said. “A lot of artists live away from their label. That’s the beauty of the business. Besides, who would you rather live with, me or Sunny?”

  He has a point there. Living with Sunny is starting to become a tad bit unbearable, especially with this new guy that she’s seeing. He’s some half black, half French guy named Xavier who plays in the NBA, though I’ve never seen him start a single game. I don’t know where she met him or what she sees in him. All I know is that he’s always at our place.

  Besides, Sunny’s back to her old habits. Always complaining about who and what I’m doing and complaining how time consuming working for Roxy is. I keep reminding her that I told her not to do it. She’s the one who decided to give up her fashion career to work in the music industry.

  “Come on man, there’s nothing to think about,” Paulie insisted. “We’ll have a ball in L.A and Sunny won’t be there to get on your nerves 24/7.”

  “We’ll see,” I told him. “I’ll call you back. I gotta finish up here before Sunny’s eyes roll into the back of her head and get stuck there.” I hung up the phone.

  “What was that all about?” Sunny asked.

  “Nothing,” I told her. “Are we done here?”

  Sunny scowled. “Yeah, I guess so. We have to meet Roxy at Twist anyway.”

  “For what?” I groaned.

  “Because, I need to talk to both of you and I want to do it at the same time,” she fired back. “Let’s go.”

  I signed five more autographs and took about twenty more pictures with fans before we reached Sunny’s car...the car that I bought her. We rode to Twist in silence. I wondered what this meeting is about. I didn’t have to wonder long.

  As soon as we sat down, Sunny started talking before we could even order our drinks.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she started. “I think that I’ve been pretty essential in getting Aiden to where he is now, but this isn’t right for me anymore. I’m tired of this.”

  I looked up from my menu. What the hell is she saying?

  “You’re tired of what?” Roxy asked before I could.

  “All of this. I’m his babysitter, his tour manager, his stylist. He doesn’t listen to half the shit I tell him anyway. I just can’t do this anymore.”

  “You’re quitting?” Roxy asked.

  Sunny stared down at the table. “Yes.”

  “What the fuck?” I yelled. “You can’t quit!”

  Sunny stared at me defiantly. “Yes, I can and I am.”

  I tried to calm down and be rational about this. She’s tripping. How can she quit me now, when I need her? I’m going on tour! I can’t tour without Sunny.

  “Why?” I asked. “You said this was fun for you. You said you wanted to help me. What’s changed?”

  “What’s changed is that it’s not fun for me anymore. I’ve done all I can for you, Aiden. I got you a record deal. Without me, you wouldn’t be sitting on a platinum album. But all you ever do is talk about how much Roxy and Power has done for you,” she stated. “You never give me any credit and I’m tired of busting my ass to make your dreams come true. I have my own dreams, remember?”

  “I give you credit,” I argued.

  “When? Name one time y
ou’ve ever said if it wasn’t for Sunny, I wouldn’t be here? In public,” she added.

  “You can’t just quit,” I replied. “I need you.”

  “That’s what you always say. Get an assistant to travel with you and pick out your clothes. Get an assistant to get your ass back to the hotel when you’re too drunk to remember where the hotel is. You have a management company and a record label behind you. You don’t need me anymore,” she said.

  Roxy looked at me. “She’s right, Aiden. You’re a big boy now. You’ve made it.”

  “This is bullshit!!” I yelled. “If this is about that night-”

  “It’s not,” Sunny interrupted. “I’m not doing this because of that night-”

  “So you’re just going to quit? I interrupted. “You’re just going to leave me because it’s not fun. Well, fuck you then!”

  I pushed back my chair and walked away from the table. I stormed out of the restaurant, pushing past people who recognized me. I didn’t stop to say anything to anyone. Our apartment building is about three miles away from the restaurant. I was walking so fast, so blind with rage that I almost passed it.

  How can she do this to me? She knows I can’t do this alone. She knows how much I depend on her. What kind of friend is she that she can just up and leave at the drop of dime, with no forewarning?

  I burst into the apartment and glared at the asshole sitting on my couch watching my television.

  “Whoa, Aiden, you shocked me,” Xavier laughed. “Where’s Sunny?”

  “I don’t fuckin know!” I snapped.

  “Weren’t you guys together?” he asked.

  “Why does it fucking matter?” I yelled. “She’s not with me now!”

  “Chill out, dude,” Xavier said. “What’s up?”

  I ignored him and went into the kitchen, looking for a beer. There weren’t any in the fridge. I glanced back in the living room. My last beer was sitting on the coffee table. A blinding heat raced through me. I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to say anything or punch that guy in the face.

  I know what I have to do now.

  I stormed past Xavier and went into my room. I grabbed every piece of luggage I could find in the apartment and started tossing my clothes in it. If she can just bail on me like that, then I can do the same.

  I was clearing out my drawers when Sunny walked into my room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Get out of here,” I told her.

  “Aiden, what are you doing?”

  I wouldn’t look at her. “Moving.”

  “Moving? What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

  “I’m moving to L.A with Paulie. You don’t need me here. You have your career and your boyfriend.”

  “Aiden, this is stupid,” Sunny stated. “You’re acting like a selfish little kid throwing a temper tantrum. You’re not moving to L.A so stop it.”

  “Get out of here, Sunny,” I said. “You can stay here until the lease is up. I’m out.”

  I zipped up the last piece of luggage and started hauling bags down the hallway. Sunny grabbed the back of my shirt. I stopped.

  “Aiden! Stop it!”

  “Sunny, get off of me.”

  “I tell you I want to pursue my own career and you decide to move to Los Angeles? What kind of sense does that make?”

  “It makes perfect sense to me,” I grumbled. “You’ve already proven that you don’t give a shit about me. You’re leaving me when I need you most. So fuck it. I’d rather be in L.A with my real friend than stick around here.”

  “Aiden,” Sunny said weakly as I struggled down the hallway trying to carry my bags. I could hear the tears in her voice but I didn’t turn around.

  “Aiden,” she repeated.

  “Don’t worry about my equipment,” I said, my words coming out harsher than intended. “I’ll have someone from the label come pack it up and ship it once I get settled.”

  I slammed the door behind me. I leaned against the door. I could hear Sunny crying through the door. Something inside me told me to open the door and apologize. Something inside me told me to open the door and pull Sunny into my arms.

  But I can’t. This is it...the end of the Aiden and Sunny era. I’m going to do this on my own, without her.

  Fuck Sunny.

  “Painful as it may be sometimes, I recommend going through life without the epidural.”

  John Mayer, musician

  Chapter 31

  “Two Grammys, two MTV awards, three Billboard Awards, and you’re ASCAP’s songwriter of the year,” Delilah huffed. “I don’t understand why you insist on walking around looking like you just rolled out of bed, Aiden.”

  I smoothed my wrinkled Hendrix t-shirt and laughed at my little sister’s sour expression.

  “I have all of those things because no one gives a shit about the way I dress,” I replied. “Everyone is more concerned with what kind of guitar I’m going to use on my next record. No one cares, Dee-Lee. Just you.”

  “Puh-leeze,” she cried and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “This is L.A, Aiden. Everyone cares.

  She paused for a second before adding, “Mom and Dad care.”

  “Don’t bait me, Dee-Lee,” I warned her.

  “I’m just saying,” she shrugged, “in less than ten minutes, you’re going to see our parents for the first time in almost three years. You couldn’t have put on a nicer shirt?”

  “Mom and Dad coming out here wasn’t my idea,” I reminded her. I inched my brand new Tahoe closer to the Delta check-in at LAX. “I’m not trying to impress them anymore.”

  “But Mom is so excited about coming out here,” Delilah whined.

  “Is she excited about seeing L.A or seeing me?” I replied.

  I’d pretty much given up hope that my parents were ever going to speak to me again. When Limited Edition was released and they didn’t show up at either of my Chicago shows, I stopped caring. No sooner than the Grammy nominations were announced last year, my mother called me. It was like talking to an entirely different person.

  She said she was proud of me. Finally!

  All it took was five Grammy nominations, a number one album, three number one singles, and two years of nonstop touring. It took her son being famous to finally hear those words.

  They don’t mean shit to me.

  I thought that I wanted to hear my parents say they’re proud of my accomplishments. Turns out, hearing those words didn’t make a damn bit of difference. Not when I’m on top of the world and they’re looking up to see me.

  “Aiden, don’t start,” Delilah sighed and looked at herself in the visor mirror.

  “Mom and Dad are really proud of you. They’re happy for you.”

  I snickered. “Funny, because I didn’t get that impression until after I paid off the mortgage on their house.”

  “Will you please play nice?” Delilah snapped. “This is our only week off the road. I refuse to spend it playing referee between you and our parents.”

  Last year, Delilah had decided that she since she did not make the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad, she wanted to come to Los Angeles and work for me. For whatever reason, everyone thought this was a good idea except for me, especially my mother.

  Since graduating from high school, Delilah had successfully surpassed me as my parents’ “problem child” and they were more than happy to pawn her off on me. I was not thrilled about the idea. But without Sunny, my life had become a mass of chaos and confusion.

  Sunny

  I try my hardest not to think about her. It’s hard...really hard. But I try. I have to. I can’t afford to lose focus, especially now that things are going so well for me.

  When she ditched me, everything I’d worked so hard for almost fell apart. Sunny was the person behind the organized chaos that was my life. When she quit, the realization that she did more than Roxy or I thought hit us, it hit hard. The only thing the label did was put me on tour and hired a publicist.

  I tried
my hardest to keep my annoying little sister in L.A and hoped she could figure how to work from home. As things started to get more chaotic, I had to have her on the road. Surprisingly, she’s been very helpful. She’s been does all stuff that Sunny used to do and does it pretty damn well. Better than Sunny even.

  Sunny

  I wonder what she’s up to. I haven’t spoken one word to her since I moved out here. I have tried to call her but whenever her voicemail picks up, I never know what to say. I’m still pissed at her. I still can’t believe she quit.

  My first tour without her totally sucked. Usually playing guitar calms me. But her decision rocked me to the core. Not seeing her in the dressing room or on the side of the stage swaying her hips to my music, totally threw me off. I don’t think anyone noticed much except my band. And all they did was complain.

  “Get your shit together, Aiden.”

  “Man, that girl is stuck in your head. She really did a number on you.”

  “You sound like shit.”

  Erica was the worst. Those first few months on the road without Sunny were hard on both of us. Of course, she blamed me for everything. Two years later, she’s still bitching whenever we have a show.

  “Sunny loved you, Aiden. And you up and left her in Atlanta,” she says to me at least once a month.

  If I could find another sax player as good as Erica, I swear, I’d have replaced her the day Sunny quit. I’m looking. I won’t stop looking. Erica’s got to go.

  “Aiden, there they are!” Delilah pointed out, snapping me out of my aching thoughts.

  I eased the Hummer to a stop in front of my parents. My parents don’t look like they’ve aged a bit since I’d last seen them in Atlanta.

  “Mommy!” Delilah squealed and jumped out of the car.

  Dressed exactly as one would expect two middle aged tourists from the mid-west to dress, my parents smiled when my sister ran over to them and gave them both huge hugs. I guess she would miss them.

  My mother turned her attention to me and grinned from ear to ear. Her warm smile brought back memories of a happier time before I became their biggest disappointment.