Pushing to her feet, Lisa shuffled across the sitting area from the plush white chair she sat in to the sofa and plopped down beside me, wrapping me in a tight hug. "You know I just want you to be happy," she huffed in a muffled whine, her face pressed into my neck.
"This is so sweet," Tonya whispered.
Chuckling, I patted Lisa's back. Yeah, between the wine at dinner and the large glass she'd just had, Lisa was three sheets to the wind.
"Every day that I wake up in this city, I am a little more happy."
She pulled back and framed my face with her hands, staring at me with an intense look in her eyes. It was rare to see Lisa so gone like this. She rarely drank, and when she did it was more controlled—never more than one drink and always immediately followed by a glass of water or two. It was both amusing and touching to witness her this way. Yeah, she was being goofy as hell and loose at the mouth, but the fact that she'd even knocked back the second and third glass of wine let me know that she was deeply affected by my relocation. I could foolishly believe that the distance wouldn't have any effect on our relationship, but the truth was that things were going to be different from now on. It was both inevitable and necessary.
"Tee," she breathed, causing me to wrinkle my nose as the bitter wine on her breath ghosted over my face, "I think you'd be much happier if you were getting dicked down or rubbing pussies with somebody on the regular."
"Biiiiiitch!" Nedra shrieked and Tonya's eyes widened comically.
Lisa looked so damn earnest, but I was tickled. Reaching between us, I mushed her and busted out laughing. "Lee, if you don't get your drunk ass out of my face with that mess!" Falling back against the seat of the couch, Lisa laid there with her eyes closed and began to giggle uncontrollably.
Pulling out my phone, I texted her husband to come collect her. Jeremiah arrived with an easy smile on his face, completely unperturbed by his still giggling wife. Bidding the three of us goodnight, he scooped Lisa up into his arms and carried her off.
"Well, that was sexy as fuck," Tonya commented, eyes trained toward the direction in which J had disappeared. I nodded because she'd taken the words right out of my mouth.
"And on that note, let me go get my man and put him to bed." Nedra stood and began collecting the now abandoned dishes, as Tonya and I jumped up to help her. After the sitting area was put back right, the wine glasses and plates were rinsed and loaded in the dishwasher, and the remaining slices of cake had been wrapped in cling-wrap and safely displayed under the dome of the glass cake case on the counter, both of the women turned to me.
"Hey," Nedra began, "I meant it when I told Lisa that I'd be here for you."
Tonya nodded. "Me too. We may not get together often," she added, gesturing between herself and Nedra, "but when we do, it's nothing to invite you along."
Looking at each of them, I said, "Y'all don't have to do that. Lisa was being extra."
Moving to stand next to me as I leaned against the island, Tonya looped her arm though mine and nudged me with her shoulder. "She was just being a good friend. I have a huge family, so I'm used to always having someone around. If it wasn't my two sisters, it was our dozens of cousins. Speaking of cousins…" She eyed me thoughtfully. "I have a lot of cousins, so if you're serious about finding love, you can definitely come with us to the next kickback and see if something pops off with one of them."
I smiled. "I don't know about anything popping off, but I'm damn sure not turning down the opportunity to kick it. Let me know when the next one comes around and I'll be there."
Pleased, Tonya nodded. "Will do." She gave me a hug and did the same to Nedra before backing toward the hallway that led to the bowling alley. "Okay, I'm going to go get my boys and head home. Goodnight y'all." She waved and turned to leave.
"You're spending the night, right?"
"What?" I asked incredulously, meeting Nedra's questioning gaze. "I live like thirty minutes away. I can be home before midnight."
She pursed her lips. "Yes, but you've been drinking. I don't know about you, but wine always makes me sleepy. I just don't want you to doze off or blink too slowly on that drive."
Shaking my head, I headed toward the mudroom to collect my purse and lightweight jacket. "Oh, girl wine makes me horny, not sleepy, and I can't handle that if I stay here."
Nedra laughed and waved a hand in the air. "As thick as these walls are? Trust me, no one would hear a word; nobody would know a thing."
Pressing my hands to my chest, I widened my eyes at her. "But I would know! I can't get off with that on my conscience."
This time, she was the one who shook her head, but she walked with me outside to my car without complaint. "You are silly as hell, you know that?"
I shrugged. "I may have heard it a time or two."
After climbing inside the car, I rolled down the window to let out some of the heat leftover from the scorching daytime temperature and finish my goodbye to Nedra. She leaned down and peered into my window.
"Drive safe, okay? And let me know when you make it home."
With a final nod, I backed up and made a U-turn in the wide, paved driveway, before heading down the long path that would take me back out to the farm-to-market road. I drove slowly, in constant awe of the seemingly simple, black asphalt that lit up as my car rolled over it, illuminating the road ahead. On the drive to my apartment, I thought back over the evening, the time spent with Tonya and Nedra, in particular. I'd always seen them as Lisa's in-laws and never imagined that I would develop any sort of relationship with them. But after tonight? I could see them becoming my friends as well. Back home, my group of girlfriends was small, consisting of Lisa and Candice. After Lisa and Jeremiah had their…thing, Candice was no longer a part of the group, leaving me with Lisa. Don't get me wrong, I loved Lisa; she was family, but she and her family were all I'd had for a very long time.
Maybe another unintentional positive from this move would be widening my group of friends and people I could depend on. It looked like what was initially a move to get some breathing room would have more benefits than I was expecting. I was finally getting the opportunity to build a tribe.
Two
Xeno
When The Price Of Fame Is Steep
Studio days were my favorite days of the week. The satisfaction—the sense of accomplishment—in creating a musical baby. Conceptualizing it; marrying the words to the beat; recording the song; and ultimately, listening to the finalized record. All of it fueled me. I could easily spend eighteen hours in the studio, completely lost in the process of creating a record.
In the beginning of my career, I'd built a small studio in one of the guest rooms of my parents' house. As I got older, I realized that in order for me to do nothing but live inside of the four walls of my home, I needed the separation from work to be a clear and distinct line. Most of the equipment left with me when I bought a house and moved out in my twenties, but even now I tended to spend the majority of my time at Rhymes & Rainbows. Rhymes & Rainbows was the largest investment into my career that I'd made before I really started making money as an artist. That was back before the payouts from performances starting leaving anything left over after the expenses of being an independent artist were covered. Back when the dreams I'd planted as an ambitious twelve-year-old started to take root and bear fruit.
I'd been blessed to have an uncle who was an OG rapper from the late eighties and early nineties who'd hung up his microphone more than a decade ago but had taken me under his wing after overhearing me freestyling with my cousins at a family barbecue when I was a preteen. Although my parents weren't opposed to me rapping, they didn't want me to put all of my hopes and dreams toward it with nothing to fall back on. So while they trusted my uncle to teach me the music business, they pushed me to focus on my studies, too; encouraging me to study business. When me and my twin brother graduated high school, Xavier and I both enrolled in Franklin; me, majoring in business with a music minor, and him in marketing.
Ch
oosing a school close to home was an easy decision to make. The rap scene in Houston was popping, and if I was going to be serious about my music, then I needed to dig my feet in and carve out a space for myself. There weren't many female rappers out of the city—not at the time I was in college—and that made me even more determined to make a name for myself.
I met Cyndi on Tumblr during my freshmen year at Franklin. She was a senior in high school and we initially bonded as two queer girls from the same city—although we were from different sides of Houston. The more we talked, we realized how much we had in common. One thing in particular was a shared love of music—hip hop, to be specific. Cyndi didn't laugh when I told her that I wanted to be a rapper. Instead, she sent me beats that she'd made and encouraged me to lay rhymes over them.
Once she graduated and joined me at Franklin, what was a kinship with someone I'd met online and had never seen in person blossomed into the best friendship I'd ever imagined. We became inseparable—so much so that my parents believed her to be my girlfriend, despite my constant attempts at correcting them. It took me sitting them both down and explaining that, if I were to ever bring a girl home that I had romantic feelings for, she wouldn't be a butch like me. They got the picture then and fully accepted mine and Cyndi's relationship for what it was. She was my best friend. More than that, she was my motherfuckin' sister.
Nowadays, I rarely laid tracks over beats that weren't created by Cyn Tha Starr and my girl was out here making big money selling what she used to give away for free back when she was in high school. No matter what, she always gave me first dibs on her best stuff. Hell, I listened to just about everything she made whether I needed it or not. Just as I bounced stuff off of her, she did the same to me. That's what we were doing now, after working four hours straight on a couple songs I'd written. We sat at the soundboard and she played track after track while I listened and gave her feedback.
My uncle had taught me that the only way to be unstoppable was to own everything myself, so after saving up all of my money from birthdays and graduations, I borrowed a little extra from my parents and built my own studio. It was in the same strip as the grocery store that my grandparents owned, and though it only had a lobby, two recording rooms, and a bathroom, it was mine.
Cyndi had queued up her music and we were on the fourth track when Lonnie, my personal security, opened the door and approached us. Lonnie came into my life back in 2015 when I was just gaining traction in the city and had been invited to perform on one of the smaller stages at a summer festival. A couple of assholes tried to talk grimy to me after my set and wouldn't back down even though Cyndi and Xavier were with me. Lonnie came out of nowhere and shoved their asses away from me so forcefully that they hit the ground hard enough for everyone in an eight-foot radius to hear the thump.
They took one look at his stature—all six-foot-eight and three hundred-sixty pounds of him, with thick locs down to his waist—and took off without another word. Lonnie later explained that he'd been at the festival with his two sisters, had overheard the men talking shit during my set, then heckling me afterward, and couldn't ignore it. After he stayed with us for the rest of the day, Xavier offered him a job. Lonnie had never done any personal security before—he was just a big dude—but he was interested in the job.
Since my personal trainer used to be personal security for the Hawk, who had recently retired from the Houston Clutch, I hit him up for advice. Surprisingly, he offered to train Lonnie, and although his price was steep, Xavier—and my parents—felt that it was worth it. They'd been right. Peace of mind when traveling, or even performing around the city, was priceless. Lonnie had been with me for the past five years and knew that my time in the studio was damn near sacred, so I assumed his presence was for something important.
"What's up, man?" I asked, reaching over the soundboard to pause the music that had already begun to spark inspiration for accompanying lyrics.
He sighed and I immediately knew that whatever he was about to say was some bullshit. Just as he knew me; I knew him. I had his different sighs categorized by their inflection. This one said that he was annoyed.
Dragging a meaty paw down his face, he huffed out his aggravation. "There are some girls out front who won't take no for an answer. Before I threaten to call the cops on their thirsty asses, I wanted to check if you were up for a quick fan visit."
Already turning back to the board, I waved my hand. "Nah, send them—"
"Hold on now," Cyndi interrupted me, a Cheshire cat grin on her face. "We can spare a few minutes on a few fans."
"What?!"
She glanced at me. "What's a few minutes, No? You don't want a reputation as a bitch, do you?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. She wasn't slick; she just wanted to see some eye candy. Her horny ass was always up for taking advantage of the influx of female fans my small amount of fame brought.
"Five minutes," I conceded.
Rubbing her hands together, she nodded. "Excellent. Bring 'em on back, Lonnie."
That's where I drew the line. I stood quickly, pushing the rolling chair back and heading toward Lonnie. "Hell naw! You know damn well I don't let any ole body back here. We can go up front. I'll sign a few autographs, take a few pictures, and then we can get back to work."
"Fine with me."
Cyndi jumped up and followed me as I followed Lonnie. Of course it was fine with her, she still won. We entered the lobby of the studio, which was really just a small room with a loveseat, two armchairs, and a squat coffee table covered in multiple issues of Browntown Weekly and various music magazines. One of the two women squealed and started toward me, stopping fast when Lonnie held an arm out.
"Slow your roll, young lady," he rumbled in his baritone.
Lonnie was a baby—barely twenty-five—so it was hilarious to hear him call anyone young, but I kept the laughter at bay by smiling politely.
"It's all good, man. How are y'all doing?"
The woman who had tried to run up on me, smiled brightly, tossing her braids over her shoulder and standing up straight, pushing her breasts toward me. "Damn, you're fine. I knew this was your studio. I tried to tell Gina but she didn't believe me. I bet she'll believe me from now on. I can't believe we could just walk in here like this. Can I take a picture with you?"
She was talking a mile a minute and I could barely keep up but I managed to catch her question.
"Uh, thanks sweetheart. Sure, we can take a picture."
Tossing her phone to Lonnie, she wasted no time in grabbing my arm and pulling me to stand in between her and her friend who had yet to say anything. I put an arm around each of their shoulders and smiled as Lonnie took the picture. The mouthpiece of the duo instructed Lonnie to take another picture in landscape mode but before he could turn the phone I felt someone grab a large handful of my ass cheek and squeeze tightly
"Aye, man!" Jumping away from them, I turned to see that the quiet one now had a satisfied smirk on her face. "Did you just grab my ass?"
Completely unashamed, she shrugged. "Sorry, baby, you're just too damn fine."
I shook my head. This was a perfect example of why I liked to keep people out of my damn studio. I was ready to put their asses out.
"Y'all got your picture so you can leave now."
My eyes were on the women, so I was surprised when Cyndi's hard voice filled the otherwise quiet room. She was pissed. She started toward the women, fists balled up, ready to swing on a bitch, but Lonnie grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. He then tossed the phone on the couch and faced the women, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You can either leave or wait for the police to come pick you up for assault."
"We're leaving!" The loud one snatched her phone up from the couch, grabbed the quiet one by the arm, and dragged her to the door.
Just as they exited the tempered-glass door, the quiet one leaned back in and looked at me. "I know your strap game is a beast. Whenever you're ready to put it down, call me!" She pr
oceeded to yell out her phone number even as her friend pulled her out the door. Lonnie pulled the door closed and flipped the heavy bolt and the three of us watched through the window as the girls stood on the sidewalk and high-fived each other before bursting into laughter and walking off.
"No more fans today, Lonnie."
"Already ahead of you. Nobody is getting in here unless they have a key or an appointment."
Nodding my thanks, I turned and glared at Cyndi. "This is all your fault; you know that, right?"
"Maaaaan. I didn't know they were going to be on that bullshit."
I started back down the hallway toward the recording room we'd been in. "I'm out here getting groped all because your ass wanna see some T and A. Like you can't just take your ass down to Sanity and get the royal treatment." Cyndi had produced so many songs that were played in the popular strip club before anywhere else, that whenever she graced the place with her presence, they damn near rolled out the red carpet for her ass.
She dropped down into her abandoned seat and grinned at me. "At least she was cute."
In disbelief, I stared at her with my mouth hanging open. "At least she was cute?! Yo, I mean this from the bottom of my heart."
"What is it?"
"Fuck you."
♥♥♥♥
When The Streets Been Listenin'
Once we were back at the board and tried to resume our earlier listening session, the energy in the studio was off. I knew it and Cyndi knew it.
"I made something last night that you gotta hear." She fiddled around with the knobs for a moment before something completely unexpected began to play through the speakers in the room.
With wide eyes, I gazed at her. "What is this?!"
She gave me a knowing grin. "It's hot, right? It's different for you, but I have a feeling you'll be able to work with it."
"You made this shit for me?"
Things Hoped For Page 2
