“First of all, I’d like to thank the fans for embracing my change. Change is good! I’d like to thank my record label; Doe, Amin, and others for standing behind me. And I’d like to thank . . . the South. We still in this beeeeeiitch!”
Flame ducked backstage to pass off his award and did an interview with reps from Foxy 99, his radio station back in Fayetteville. As he was speaking, he saw Sasha talking to Niya. She and Sasha looked at him and giggled like schoolgirls trapped in a conspiracy. Flame heard Niya screech, “All right, gurl!” Then they high-fived each other.
Flame finished his interview and rushed back to his seat to wait for the results of the other nominations, glad to be the hell up outta there.
Turned out, Kismet swept the rest of the awards. They won a few insignificant awards and gave basic speeches, but when the most important nomination came—Album of the Year—everyone was on pins and needles, awaiting the winner. When the smoke cleared, Kismet emerged victorious again.
The ladies seemed to float to the stage as they took the podium and thanked God like he produced their album or something. Then they left the stage to prepare for their closing set, a rendition of their greatest hits.
Flame took that as his cue to exit stage left to prepare for the after-party. Everybody and their mama was having a party, but Flame was going to the one Diamond was hosting, mostly just to piss Qwess off since he was hosting a shindig also.
Chapter 10
Diamond’s party was being thrown in the ballroom at one of L.A.’s finest hotels. From the moment Flame stepped in the door he didn’t plan on staying long. It was a typical industry party. Lots of drinks. Hordes of drugs. A bevy of beautiful women. Fake gangstas ice-grilling. Real gangstas smiling. Flame was still riding high from his performance, and everyone bigged him up as he and 8-Ball made their way through the crowd of partygoers to the section where the stars of his caliber were chilling.
8-Ball and Flame hadn’t been out since France, and Ball couldn’t stop talking about Monica. She had him fucked up!
They found a corner table, sipped champ as if they had just secured the championship, and kicked the bobo. 8-Ball was filling Flame in on the conversations he and Monica had been having over the past weeks when suddenly all the attention shifted toward the entrance. Flame craned his head to see what the commotion was about and saw Kismet strolling into the party.
“Shit, speaking of the devil!” Flame said. “They’re heeeeere . . .” 8-Ball smiled sheepishly while Flame ducked lower in his seat to avoid the ladies.
The stunt Sasha pulled earlier had Flame feeling uncomfortable. He could tell by the curious stares when he came in that people were talking about him. He just knew they were talking about the performance, in his head anyway. He was just making moves and potentially doing big things with Diamond. He wasn’t trying to fuck that up. He had been a player long enough to know when a woman was throwing pussy at him, and Sasha may as well have been a pitcher.
Though he’d dreamed about sexing her since the first time he ever saw her, it just wouldn’t be good for business. Too much potential backdraft.
Suddenly an idea came to him. He hopped out his seat and found his way to where the ladies had just settled at a table. He grabbed Kim by the arm and took her to a corner near the balcony. He made sure everyone saw him with her as he took her to that corner.
“What are you doing?” Kim asked as she smiled and allowed him to drag her behind him.
“I’m trying to do you,” Flame quipped, placing her back against the wall.
They drifted off into their own little alcove. Somewhere they could do them without being noticed.
“We have unfinished business,” Flame whispered in her ear over the Chris Brown track rocking the room. He swooped in and kissed her neck.
“What?” Kim giggled. “You jealous that we won.”
“Please. Y’all only won a couple awards.”
“Yeah, but we won the biggest one.”
“Ahh, good one!” Flame said. He wrapped her up and kissed her again. “Cut it out. Let’s get back to what you owe me.”
“What I owe you?”
“This.”
Flame reached under her short skirt, glad she’d changed clothes. She wore no panties.
“Unh-unh, Flame. All these people in here,” Kim whispered. “And I’m not about to let you add me to your long list of conquests.”
“Cut it out.” Flame kissed her and rubbed her kitty.
“Flame, you are crazy!”
“About you right now. Now, come on.”
Flame rubbed Kim’s shaved pussy, and she moaned inside his ear. She squirmed and fidgeted but she didn’t stop him. He rubbed it again, and she drew in a deep breath.
“Flame,” she whispered icily.
Flame kissed away her protests and fingered her wetness. In and out. In and out. With two fingers. Kim bucked on his hand and exhaled the smell of breath mints into his nostrils. Flame cupped her tight ass with his other hand and pulled her to him so she could feel his erection.
“Feel that?” he asked. She nodded. “Take it out.”
Kim hesitated for a second, then she slid her hand inside his pants and gripped his hard meat with her soft hands. She stroked it a couple times.
“Pull it out,” Flame instructed. Kim whipped it out. “Put it in, Kim,” Flame whispered, still fingering her. “Don’t play wit’ it. Let me feel you . . .”
Kim was losing it. She kept swallowing hard, panting as she tried to fight her passion. She was losing the battle, failing miserably. Flame felt her inhibitions leaking out, hot and thick. He felt her resolve breathing hard on his lips.
Flame eased the front of Kim’s skirt up to her waist. Right there in the dark room with intoxicated people walking mere feet in front of them, yet oblivious to what was about to go down. Right there with Usher beating the walls down.
Right there in the room while everyone sipped, smoked, sniffed, and popped pills, Kim popped her entertainment cherry and eased Flame’s stiffness inside her tight walls.
Flame gasped hard at the suction. Kim was extra tight. It felt like he was plowing through virgin walls.
Kim shrieked and tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go. Flame gripped her waist and allowed her pleated skirt to fall over their connection. Once her skirt shrouded them he thrust harder. Her panting only enticed him more. Soon she became wetter and he was able to push through her barrier and stroke her like he wanted to.
Flame pushed her up against the wall and drove himself deeper and deeper. Kim wrapped her arms around Flame’s neck and met each stroke with a thrust from her hips. When he leaned, she rocked. When he pushed, she pulled him in. Kim wrapped her left leg around the back of Flame’s knees and moaned in his ear.
“Flame . . . Flame . . .”
The more Kim moaned his name, the more his mind played tricks on him. Each time Kim said his name he heard Sasha’s voice. That turned him on even more.
Flame started hitting Kim harder, oblivious to where they were. Each time she moaned, he heard Sasha’s voice.
Then he really heard Sasha’s voice.
Flame and Kim were snatched back to reality. Flame heard Sasha arguing with someone.
Kim heard it too. “Damn!” Kim muttered. She pushed Flame away from her and clipped their connection. “That’s Sasha.”
“Sasha?” Flame said. But Kim was already gone.
Kim blew past Flame while he adjusted his clothing. She made it to the fracas just in time to see Sasha dash a glass of champagne into Diamond’s face. He calmly licked his lips like LL and smiled. Then security broke the two up.
Flame, with 8-Ball by his side, arrived in time to see Diamond’s champagne baptism too. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t know if he was the source of the confusion or not. He didn’t want to add injury to insult, so he fell back and played spectator like everyone else.
After security cleared things up and Sasha and Diamond were separated, Fl
ame tapped 8-Ball on his arm. “Damn, I feel sorry for ole gurl,” he said.
“Shit, I feel sorry for ole boy!” 8-Ball laughed.
“Nah, trust me, I feel sorry for her.”
“Why?”
“’Cause first chance he get, he gon’ beat her ass!”
* * *
Qwess was in VSVIP when Sasha embarrassed Diamond. He didn’t see it, of course, because Qwess was on another mission, but he was definitely in the building.
While hosting an official BET awards after-party, Qwess had run into his new friend from Vegas, Liam. Liam claimed that he had come to L.A. because he wanted to talk to Qwess in person. Some things weren’t meant to be discussed over the phone, he claimed. However, Liam had to see someone else while in L.A. He shot Qwess the address and asked him to come there as soon as possible. As fortune would have it, the address Liam texted to Qwess was Diamond’s party.
Qwess and Hulk arrived at the party while it was in full swing. They ignored the grimy looks from members of Diamond’s crew and quickly made their way to Liam in the Very Special Very Important People section.
Qwess found Liam at a table sitting near the edge of the balcony so he could see all the action. With Liam’s swarthy skin and tailored suit, he stuck out from the mostly hip-hop and street crowd, but he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable at all. Qwess had seen his type before, Jews that hovered over the entertainment industry moving and shifting supposed bosses around like pieces on a chessboard, dangling them around on strings like puppets. People like Liam knew they weren’t threatened in these crowds because they controlled the people that set the tone of the streets, athletes and entertainers. To touch someone like him would be akin to harming Moses, for he indeed parted the sea to guide people to the promised land of wealth and prosperity. It was people like him that Qwess separated himself from when he went totally independent. Now, here he was again dining with the devil.
“Liam, what’s going on, my brother?” Qwess greeted him over the music.”
“Qwess, my friend, take a seat.”
Qwess sat beside Liam, and they soaked up the vibe of the party, pausing to point and comment about certain people they recognized.
“Hey, isn’t that your boy?” Liam noted, pointing at Flame.
Flame was walking through the crowd chasing Kim with 8-Ball on his heels.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Qwess said.
“Man, that was a hell of a performance tonight. He’s special, that kid there.”
“Yeah, he is. The problem is, he knows it.”
“Don’t they all.”
The men laughed. “Indeed.”
As Qwess and Liam watched Flame wade through the crowd, his path led right to Diamond and Sasha.
“Now that guy right there is bad news,” Liam said, gesturing to Diamond. “I don’t know how they let him in the game with all his red gang shit and strong-arming. You would think they learned from the guy on the West Coast,” Liam figured. “That girl there is his meal ticket, though. She makes him safe. Without her by his side, he would be gone in a year.”
Almost on cue, Sasha splashed her drink in Diamond’s face.
“Ohhhhh, shit! Look at that.” Qwess laughed, unable to contain his glee at Diamond’s misfortune.
“Hey, that’s a smart girl right there,” Liam joked. “Cool his ass off.”
They watched as security intervened and cleared the area. Qwess paid particular attention to Flame. The kiss at the airport was still in his mind, and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t about to be a casualty of a domestic. Although he and Flame weren’t on great terms, he was still his cash cow and homeboy.
Liam stood. “Hey, let’s go up to my suite and discuss some business. This is shutting down soon anyway.”
Qwess instructed Hulk to remain behind and keep an eye on Flame while he followed Liam up to his suite.
Inside the suite Qwess and Liam were all alone. Liam poured them more drinks and passed Flame a thick, dark cigar.
“It’s a Cuban,” Liam remarked.
Qwess walked around admiring the suite while preparing his cigar. In actuality, he was inspecting his surroundings to see who else was inside.
“No one else is here, my friend,” Liam said. “You can relax.”
Something in Liam’s tone made Qwess uneasy. He knew how the upper echelons of the entertainment industry played the game, which is why he retired so many years ago. At the next level, executives used homosexuality as a tool of power. They dangled lucrative opportunities over the heads of artists and low-level execs in exchange for their manhood. Those who bowed down came up. Those who refused were pushed out of the industry with a scandal, most of the time with a sexual assault case from a woman, ironically. Qwess had attended parties where everything was normal, then in an instant things turned . . . different. He witnessed rich and famous men sucking off other men with no shame. He saw men who were the personification of masculinity on television screens all over the world getting pegged by diminutive, dainty men. He recalled one incident in particular that occurred while he was at a party in the Hollywood Hills that a rap mega-producer had thrown. At some point during the night when things had turned different, Qwess stumbled into a room while looking for his coat to leave. He saw the producer in the middle of the floor on his hands and knees. A brolic, convict-looking man was behind him slamming damn near a foot of penis in his rectum while another man stood in front of his face masturbating. The look of ecstasy on the producer’s face was etched into Qwess’s brain forever. It was then he knew he had to leave the circles of the entertainment industry. It was clear to him, if the devil had a home on earth, it would be in Hollywood. Yet, here he was in Hollywood again.
“Relax? I can never do that,” Qwess said.
“Have you ever heard of Streamify, Qwess?”
“Streamify?” He’d heard of the music streaming company that was shaking things up in the industry with their new way of delivering music. “Yeah, I’m familiar. What about them?”
“I can tell you firsthand that Streamify has them shaking in their boots. Music streaming is the wave of the future. There are some technical glitches right now, and some problems with the way they do business. They’re a European based company, so they don’t have the access to resources like we do in the U.S., but they have the right idea. The technology will correct itself, because technology replicates itself every eighteen months. As far as the business . . . they need some help.”
Qwess listened intently. He could see where Liam was going with this. Streamify was shaking up the game in the wake of the Rapster scandal that saw millions of songs pirated for free and artists not getting paid. However, the Rapster scandal magnified the problem with streaming music; it was too easy to pirate music. For the fans, it was a great thing, but it created a terrible business model. Qwess told him as much.
“Right! Because they’re not doing it right!” Liam slid a folder across the table for Qwess. “Look at these numbers.”
Qwess perused the contents of the folder. He saw staggering numbers. Millions of people were streaming music every day from all over the world.
“Imagine if they had their business in order?” Liam asked. “With the right technology to secure the rights of the artists and the right business model, streaming can create the next billionaire. I’m telling you!”
Qwess nodded. “So, what are you saying, you want us to invest in Streamify? Take it over?”
Liam smiled and shook his head. “You’re still not hearing me.” He stood, walked to the window, and peered out into the mountains in the distance. “I’m saying let’s start the company to rival Streamify. Let’s learn from their mistakes and correct their business model. Let’s be the pioneers of streaming. With your catalog and pioneering spirit, and my relationships and business sense, we can change the game—and become billionaires in the process. So what do you say?”
“I say, why me?”
Liam smiled again. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 11
About a week after the awards and the Cali fiasco, Flame was chilling in his new Manhattan apartment. He was still marveling at how lavish his shit was. He wasn’t balling on Diamond’s level yet, but his shit was proper. It boasted hardwood floors through and through. Floor to ceiling windows. Granite countertops. Pretty much the luxury basics. The walls were painted a deep purple and the furniture was gray. But the highlight was his home theater.
Flame had a ten-foot-wide screen specially installed with an HD 4K plasma projector, equipped to play DVDs and unfinished recordings. He loved to watch his performances come to life on the screen via YouTube. When the mood hit him, he would fire up some weed and watch porn too. The actresses’ asses looked gargantuan on screen. This was his personal sanctuary where he burned good and kept the bootleggers in business. This was where he was relaunching the rebranding of Flame the businessman.
Flame was laid up watching American Gangster, blowing pine, scratching his nuts, when his cell rang with a 936 area code. The number was foreign to him. The only person he knew from Houston that would have his number was Kim, and he hadn’t talked to her in a week.
He answered the call. “Flame?”
“Hey, gurl. What up?” He immediately noticed her voice sounded distressed.
“Can you come pick me up?”
“From H. Town?!”
“No, silly. I’m here, in New York.”
“Oh. Uh . . . where are you?”
She told him her location.
“Uh . . . sure. Sure, I’ll come get you. Be there in about forty-five minutes.”
“Cool.”
* * *
Dirty Music Page 9
