by Kenya Wright
Jason had written the song for Beyoncé as a favor to me. They’d won several awards. But now, I knew I could never hear that song again without thinking of his death. Thinking of that dark, soulless moment.
Midnight stood on my side. “We should be inside the church.”
He adjusted his ebony fur, a large furry hat to match was propped on his head. Diamonds covered his fingers and wrists. With his right hand, he gripped a cane he didn’t need. “It’s freezing out here.”
My hair was wet, sticking to the back of my neck and sides of my face. I was sure my cheeks had a rosy blush due to the cold. “I should be with my fans.”
“No, you should be inside the chapel. You paid for the damn funeral, and your friends are in there.”
“Friends.” I smiled at the term. “My friends are out here.”
In front of us, my fans stood. Rows and rows and rows of shadowed people—men wailing into their hands, women with mascara running down their cheeks, and kids in dark coats buttoned high, scarves swallowing their cheerless faces. They’d flown in from all over the world. Many took off from work. Others ditched school. I’d read all their stories on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. Following their journeys here was the only thing that had kept my heart beating.
I shook my head. “I’m staying with them.”
Midnight nodded. “Okay.”
Inside the church, all the top celebrities sat in comfort. They’d come out to say goodbye to Jason. A few loved him almost as much as I did. However, most of them thought the funeral would be a great publicity opportunity. And it was. Every news network crowded the space. Cameras flashed here and there. Microphones dangled and hovered.
Midnight leaned my way. “Jason would’ve been happy to be trending all week.”
“But, he would’ve hated the old pictures they posted of his cornrow faze.”
“That boy wanted to be black so bad.” Midnight tried to make a joke. “He’ll probably come back as a black man.”
“He used to check African American on job applications.”
“I’m shocked.”
“That he checked that box?”
“No, that he ever applied for a job.” Only Midnight could make me smile at a funeral. Midnight leaned my way. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“No.”
“Have you cried yet?”
“No.”
“You should come stay with me—”
“No.” I could picture how living with Midnight would be—half-naked women filling up his huge mansion, booze all over the place, drugs covering the counters, groupies trying to get pregnant for a check, fake guys hoping to be in my entourage.
I needed silence and mountains.
Beyoncé hit a high note with pure perfection.
Unfazed, Midnight whispered to me, “What are you going to do? Europe would be nice right now.”
“No. I’m going to Utah.”
“Jesus Christ. Utah? Shit is bad, Gio, but it’s not so bad that you must go to Utah. Where the fuck is that anyway? In the center or—”
“I’m going.”
He lowered his shades. “But, Utah?”
Beyoncé finished the song.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
“No, you won’t.”
I shrugged. “No, I won’t.”
Joel Osteen read a prayer over the loud speaker. I walked away from the prayer, Midnight, and the crowd of crying fans. I wanted to run, race out of there, speed away. If I could’ve, I would’ve taken a spaceship off the planet altogether. I needed to hide, get away from it all. Go back to what mattered the first time Jason and I had come together to write our songs.
Fuck the women.
Fuck the partying.
Fuck everything else.
I headed to my limo, running back to the music that had been buried in my heart.
And now I stood on my balcony as snow fell around me. What would come from Simone’s visit? I could feel this energy spinning around in my chest like this moment would be the moment that changed it all.
Sighing, I stared off in the snowy distance. “Where are you, Simone?”
Chapter 5
Simone
Music can change the world
because it can change people.
~Bono
My flight had been delayed due to the storm. I arrived in Salt Lake City and grabbed my rental car around nine. I’d rushed too much, not taking time to breathe and think things through.
I was already an hour away from Gio on a lonely, snowy road by the time I saw that my phone was at low battery and couldn’t find my charger.
Not smart at all. I should’ve taken my time, thought things through. I should’ve left tomorrow morning or days later. What the hell was I thinking?
Even though it was Christmas Eve, tons of trucks littered the road, freaking me out. I guess truckers didn’t get holidays off like everyone else.
At least someone’s out here with me, just in case something happens.
I let that comfort me, not that I was a fan of being stuck on the side of the road and waiting for some stranger in a diesel to give me a ride.
You’ll make it. Everything will be fine. In another hour, you’ll be in Gio’s house...well, probably mansion. Either way, you’ll be there safe, warm, and fine.
The windshield wiper screeched back and forth, making a rhythm to guide me along. I hummed with it to keep my head in the game and not on my worries.
For once in my life, I had the money in my pocket to get a high-end rental and really live it up while I traveled. But I’d chosen to fly off on Christmas Eve. There had barely been any seats left on the plane. First class had been filled, so I ended up sitting by the bathroom, which wasn’t as bad as I thought.
Either way, I was not a fan of this rental, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was older than my car and the rental manager hadn’t been a fan of the tires. He ended up giving me two extra spares and tried to convince me not to drive off. Pure stubbornness and excitement had made me ignore his warnings, give him my credit card, and speed away to Gio.
Now, I was regretting it.
Let’s just make sure I get there.
I’d grown up driving on a freaking island in the south, not a northwestern area of massive highways. And I’d never driven in snow. Stupid. So fucking stupid. Living in New York, I didn’t even have to drive. I jumped on a subway or grabbed an Uber. Why would I think I could handle goddamn mountains, icy roads, and several feet of snow?
Not smart at all.
My heart boomed in my chest as I squinted and focused on the road. The snow had picked up, dimming the street lights. The roads were icy. I maintained a decent speed to avoid slipping the rental into a tree or another car. Meanwhile, wind from those large diesels rocked my small car as a fifth truck blared its horns at me.
“Just go around. I’m not driving faster. I’m at the speed limit, asshole!”
I was so nervous, I had my radio off as if that would help somehow. I guess the silence helped me concentrate, but didn’t keep me calm.
A mile marker ran by, pissing me off. I’d figured that it had been five miles by now, but it was only one. This was hell. Demon-fire hell. One part of me was excited to see Gio and start as his songwriter. The other part was scared out of my mind that I would never get to my destiny and be left stranded somewhere on the road.
Both parts remained impatient with this lonely drive.
I decided to sing, but couldn’t come up with anything besides a song my mother would hum to me at night. “Wade in the Water, wade in the water children…”
Another diesel whipped by, rocking my freaking car and reminding me that the little vehicle and me could spin off the road.
“Wade in the Water. God's gonna trouble the water.”
My dad hated the old tunes Mom would sing to me due to them being old slave songs. Slaves worked and sang to help keep the pace of whatever task they were doing. Mom had explained that a leader c
alled out a verse and then the other slaves would respond, answering back in tune. Dad didn’t like anything related to slavery. He’d rather forget it all. Mom embraced it, seeing our ancestors as heroes.
“Who are those children all dressed in red? God's gonna trouble the water.” I read the next sign and realized my exit would be coming up soon. “Must be the ones that Moses led. God's gonna trouble the water.”
Mom said this back and forth tradition was from Africa, but had become a part of life on the plantation. What I truly loved about it all was how the slaves weren’t just singing for fun or religion. They’d used the songs to pass hidden meanings and secret codes to get them to freedom.
“Who are those children all dressed in white? God's gonna trouble the water.” I spotted the exit and veered in. “Must be the ones of the Israelites. God's gonna trouble the water.”
One of Harriet Tubman’s favorite songs had been, “Wade in the Water,” a song warning slaves to make sure they stayed off the trail when they ran off. She wanted them to journey in the water as much as possible, making sure the slavecatchers’ dogs couldn’t sniff out their tracks.
That was the power of music. It did more than stimulate the ears and warm the heart. It brought people to freedom, tore away their chains, and made them forget the pain of their pasts. If I researched other ethnicities, I would probably find rich traditions of music that had saved them as well. Hadn’t every race in this world have some bloody historical moment of slavery, mass murder, or genocide? Sometimes, humans could be so cruel.
And sometimes, a simple thing as a song could unite them all, transcending time and space.
An hour passed. My heart boomed in my ears as I got closer to Gio’s property. The wiper on the passenger’s side of my windshield had stopped working. I figured some snow had fallen from a branch or something I’d passed and blocked its movement. But I was five minutes from Gio’s private road and simply wanted to get up there. I didn’t want to stop on the side in the dark and get out of the car where anything could jump out and grab me. I didn’t believe in monsters, but I didn’t look for them either.
“Almost there.” I’d been on the road close to four hours, longer than expected. It was already midnight. I wasn’t a fan of showing up this late. It would seem rude as hell.
I really should have just waited. What the fuck was I thinking? Well, I wasn’t thinking.
I pushed the thoughts out of my head since it no longer mattered. The engine began to click over and over.
That can’t be good.
“Fuck. Fuck.” I breathed in and out, gripping the steering wheel hard. “Come on, baby. We’ve got this. We’ve come so far.”
The snow picked up, painting the path and surrounding trees in blurry white flurries and getting heavier by the second. The engine clicked louder as Gio’s private road approached. Surprisingly, no one was at the guard’s booth.
Too bad my phone isn’t on. I could’ve freaking called. He probably thinks I decided to wait.
Scared to turn off the car, I pulled the window down and pressed the gate’s buzzer. Cold air assaulted me, and I blew out. A rush of winter smoke fled my lips. Thankfully, the gate opened.
Maybe the guard is off tonight.
At the thought, I heard a boom come from the engine.
“Come on now. We’re almost here.” The check engine light came on. “Don’t do that to me, baby.” I rubbed the dashboard. “We’ve come all this way. You only have three more miles and then you can rest or sleep or die and go to fucking car heaven. Just get us there.”
I pushed my foot on the pedal and rushed us through. The booming increased.
As if the universe had it in for me, both wipers now stopped working. I flipped the switch back and forth as snow and ice smeared over my window.
“Fuck.” I rolled the window down and wiped in front of me with my gloved hand, barely going three miles an hour, if that. I just needed to drive three damn miles. If it had been daylight and no snow, I would’ve walked the rest of the way. But the night was too cold, dark, and dreary.
“Okay. We are not stopping.” I could barely see through the window, but I knew I was still on the road and heading forward.
I switched on my high beams, slicing rays of light through the snowy woods surrounding Gio’s private road. “Either way, we are going to zoom forward.”
The engine clicked again. Smoke rose from the hood.
“Or we’re going to roll the fuck forward, but we are not stopping or going back.”
Getting bold, I pushed my foot down on the gas, hoping to rush the process. More clicks came. No matter how hard I pushed, when I checked the speedometer, it read that I was only going ten miles an hour.
Ten is better than none.
More smoke billowed from the hood. At this point, I was wiping the goddamn front window with my hand as it hung outside of the car. Meanwhile, my foot was stuck to the damn floor to keep the car moving enough to get us there. And finally, with the smoke rising from the car, the snow falling on the window, and the ice smearing on the glass, I might as well have had my damn eyes closed as I tried.
The view teased me. Blurry images moved ahead, almost letting me know where I was on the road before blocking my eyes out with snow. Nature was playing a cruel game with me; one I would win or die trying.
Then the clicking mingled with the booming as if the engine had just been tuning its instruments, before giving me the real show. So loud. The engine was so freaking loud. I was sure Gio and anyone else on his property could hear me coming his way.
What a great entrance I’m making. Hey, Gio, I know it’s past midnight, but don’t you love the smoky gasoline scent in the air? Yeah? That’s my car. Oh, and by the way, listen to that jazz band playing a song called Battered Battery and Destroyed Carburetor. Such a catchy tune that just rips away your ear drums.
I pushed down on the gas to pick up speed, giving up on being careful. At this point, I probably only had ten or so more minutes before the car gave up. I didn’t even know what I would say to the rental place. I didn’t want to have to call them. I just wanted to take a hot shower and fall into bed.
I pushed on the gas again. The car sped up too soon. The tires slipped on the icy road.
“Shit!” The car zigzagged then spun around in circles, the tires doing an ear-splitting screech. The movement was too fast, too quick. Too out of control. “No! No!”
I tried to get control. The passenger side slammed into something—a tree, a hill, a goddamn rock—I had no idea because my forehead hit the steering wheel right after impact. Pain shot through my head. The window cracked. Metal crunched. Steel whined against splintering wood. The odd smell of gasoline and tree sap filled the air. The engine boomed, shoving out thick black smoke. And then a load of snow fell onto the car.
Fuck.
The car came to an abrupt halt. My neck ached. I looked down at my jeans as a red mark blossomed on my thigh and a slow throbbing pain followed.
Before I could breathe in, my airbag released, knocking me in the forehead. Shit! Pain rose in my chest. Everything went dark besides the one headlight that was still on. I had no idea where I was or what I’d hit.
Liquid dripped down the side of my face. I touched it with my fingertips and brought them around to the front of my face.
Blood.
I tried to get out of my seat, but the belt kept me stuck. Shattered glass was sprawled all around me. I was sure I’d been cut or worse. Cold air and snow whooshed in, freezing every inch of my skin, cutting me down.
I took in great waves of air, trying to clear my head, desperately needing to save myself. And the whole time only the sky and stars witnessed my demise.
What the fuck? Please, don’t let this be it. Please, don’t let this be the end.
I breathed and the cold just burned the shit out of my bruised lungs. My car had taken a hit and I’d gotten the brunt of that crash.
I didn’t want to think of all the bad things. That I coul
dn’t get out of the damn car. That smoke was rising from the engine, meaning that something was burning within it. That the whole damn car could set on fire with me inside of it.
I couldn’t worry about it. I had to get out, but still every time I moved pain kept me there. And the seatbelt was stuck. I would have to cut myself out.
Please.
Tears and blood spilled down my cheeks.
If I didn’t get out of here, I could freeze to death. It was in the middle of the night. Gio and everyone else was probably tucked away in their beds. There would’ve been no need for him to worry or await my arrival. He was a busy man with a busy life. I fought against the seatbelt. My eyelids drooped down. I had to fight to keep them open. It was like I’d taken a bunch of sleeping pills.
Please.
I opened my mouth and let out a scream, hoping someone would hear me, but all I heard in return was the sound of the wind picking up. Cold settled into my bones. I fought the seat belt again, barely able to move much. My breathing came in labored spurts. Something was wrong with the car, the world, and definitely me.
I’d come so close. I’d worked so hard. And now I could barely move, breathe, or see. I struggled with my eyelids to remain open.
No. Not this way. I don’t want to go yet.
I struggled some more, but darkness swallowed me whole.
Chapter 6
Giovanni
Music is moonlight
in the gloomy night of life.
~Jean Paul
On my third cup of hot chocolate, I sat outside on the balcony. David stood in the doorway like a hovering ghost never leaving me alone.
“Sir, you should probably come inside.”
“Soon.”
He was good enough to not remind me that I’d said the same answer an hour ago and an hour before that.
But Simone needed me. I’d felt that something was wrong all evening. She’d taken too long, the weather was bad, and she was out here because of me. I had to make sure she was okay. I wouldn’t go to sleep or relax until I saw her face or heard her voice.
Several feet of snow had already landed, coating the whole property in silent white. I’d checked the news and they’d claimed this would be a record-breaking night of snowfall.
