We all looked at one another before gathering our things so that we could leave.
“Oh, I’m sorry, he wanted you to stay.” Doctor Tabu cleared his throat.
Everyone looked at me.
I swallowed hard. “Me?”
Dr. Tabu nodded. “Yes, he said he wanted the one with the black lace top to stay with him. That he needed you here. He said something about wanting to hear your heartbeat. Probably metaphorically speaking, but he was adamant about you, and only you, staying.”
Chapter Seven
Love on the Bench
I knocked on Antwan’s room door before entering his room. Antwan was sound asleep, laying on top of his sheets, dressed in a clean tank top and boxers, probably some shit one of the thirsty nurses bought him because none of us left his side that night until he asked everyone to leave. I eyed the clothes sitting in a bag on top of the sink countertop in his room. They washed the dude’s clothes, had the whole room smelling like Downy.
I shook my head, closing the door behind me, careful not to wake him. I went over to Antwan, taking the white throw blanket from the foot of the bed, pulling it over him. I looked over his handsome face before kissing him on the forehead. Then, I kicked my heels off and sat in the chair alongside his bed. I must’ve dozed off because, when I opened my eyes after what felt like seconds, Antwan was sitting up in his bed, looking at what I thought was his cell phone.
I sat up in my chair, rubbing my eyes.
Antwan looked at me before looking back down at the phone. “Your nigga has been texting you for an hour.”
I looked down at the pocket of my jacket that hung over the arm of the chair, which was the last place that I saw my phone. Then, I looked back at Antwan. “Is that my phone?”
“Yeah,” Antwan looked at me before tossing my phone back to me. “I texted him back, told him that you were with me. That I fucked you to sleep.”
My eyes widened as I looked down at my phone, immediately powering on the screen to see what the fool had written back to Sean. When I searched my messages, they were all from Mariah. I looked up at Antwan, who grinned a little, before he stood from the bed. Even through his pain, he still had jokes.
“That’s really not funny, Antwan.” I shook my head at him.
“Yeah, it is. Fuck that lame ass nigga. Texting you instead of coming to check up on you, to make sure you didn’t catch a bullet. I told you that ring don’t mean shit.” Antwan scoffed.
I watched his face grimace as he stood from the bed, hooked to his IVs. I rushed to his side, though he was waving me off like he didn’t need any help. I bent over, unplugging the unit the IVs were hooked up to. “Antwan, you need help; you’re hurt.”
“I’m not dead, shit. I gotta pee. What’cha gonna do, shawty—hold my dick for me? Shit.” Antwan scoffed.
I sighed, watching him slowly make his way towards the bathroom. Dude didn’t even close the door; he could care less if I watched him using the bathroom. I sighed, turning my head, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, listening to him drain himself. Even the sound of his pee was music to my ears. I guess I was just so happy to see that he was physically okay. I knew he was hurting inside. I knew he wanted to see me because he felt like I was a part of him. He’d known the others that he’d turned away all of his life. He’d only known me for a few days. But I’d admit, it did feel a whole lot longer.
I heard the water to the sink running, so I knew that he was finished relieving himself. I looked up at him as I watched him drying his hands before turning towards me, leaving the bathroom.
“Your friends are worried about you, boo.” I told him.
“So is your friend. Shawty was texting to see if you were okay, Lyric.” Antwan made his way over to the bed, sitting down next to me.
I bent over, plugging his IV unit back in.
“I texted her back, told her that you were asleep.” Antwan looked my face over a little, his eyes watering.
“Why did you send your friends away, Antwan? They would have stayed here all night, no food, no sleep, nothing, to make sure that you’re straight. And you told them to leave? Why?” I asked.
“Yo, I just ain’t trying to deal with them. I have enough thoughts in my head and they keep trying to fill my head with more.” Antwan’s temples twitched. “My niggas have been texting me all night.”
I looked at him. “All night? How long have I been asleep?”
“About three hours.” Antwan watched my eyes widen. “Those got-damn nurses have been in here about thirty times since you’ve been asleep. One of them even offered to give a nigga a sponge bath.” Antwan shook his head. “I told the bitch to get the fuck on. My brutha and the bodyguards that died protecting a nigga just got blown the fuck away, and these bitches still trying to get dicked down. My nieces have to grow up without a daddy, and these bitches in here thinking about fuckin’. Fuck!”
I shook my head, trying not to laugh at the thirst, not the situation. “Antwan, you know the thirst is real. They just wanna make Antwan Jared feel better.”
“Man, whatever.” Antwan shook his head to himself. “I don’t think I’ll ever be myself again. I’m trying not to go straight berserk on these niggas but… those were my niggas. I have known Gavino and them all my life. That’s my brother who took a bullet to the head. He left me, and that muthafucka knew he was all I had left of her! He knew I needed him! And he left me! He knew what was going to happen when he—” Antwan choked back the tears. “I’ma get them muthafuckas, Lyric. When they don’t expect it, that’s when I’ma get ‘em. I’ma lay low for a little while, but I put this on everything, I’ma get them muthafuckas.”
I shook my head. “That’s not gonna bring him back.”
Antwan looked at me.
“Antwan, honey, he was wrong, and you know it. He should’ve just took his daughters and left. It didn’t have to happen that way, boo, and you know it.” I had to tell him. “I know you miss him; I know you love him, but he’s gone, Antwan, and going on a killing spree isn’t going to change that.”
“Do you know why Apollo killed his girl? It wasn’t only because he was angry, but it was because McKaylah told Apollo that Wale raped her a few years ago. And to find out she was fuckin’ around with that nigga after she accused him of raping her was what sent him over the edge. Little Tia was his heart. And to find out that she wasn’t his, man, that damn near killed him. I told him back when Tia was born to take those girls from that bitch. That she was going to be the death of him. But he just couldn’t move on.” Antwan wiped the tears that started to slide down his face. “Women have always been our downfall. That’s why I’m like fuck love and anything to do with it.” Antwan looked down at the ring that I was wearing and then back into my face. “Love is not going to be the death of me, Lyric. Do you fuckin’ hear me? If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re not gonna find it in me, and you’re damn sure not gonna find that shit in Sean. Fuck that nigga. If he’s who you want, then go be with him.”
My eyes glistening, watching the tears fall from Antwan’s eyes. And I held his face in my hands, drying his tears. Antwan took my hands from his face and then laid down in the bed, turning from me. I laid down beside him, his back facing me. And I slid my arm around his waist, laying as close to him as I could so that he could feel my heart beating, his mother’s heart beating. Antwan turned to me, grabbing me close, face pressed against my neck as he pressed his chest against mine. My heart beat just as hard as his heart did.
“Why, Audrey?” Antwan whispered before crying out loud. “Man, he’s gone! My brother’s gone! Why? God, why? Why did you take them from me! Please, give them back to me!”
I cried with him, rubbing my hands across his smooth close-cut hair. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.
***
Antwan paid for the funeral costs for his brother and his three bodyguards, and Apollo’s manager and producer, Trey Benson, paid for Apollo’s wake. Antwan refused to go to it. It was more like a concert th
an a wake to me. The place was packed beyond capacity. Recording artists from BAM, Inc., were performing. The only person there who gave a heartfelt speech was Queen. She made it halfway through her speech before breaking down and crying. Drizzle, Snare, Rhandy, and Trap were too shook up to say anything. Apollo’s entire squad was at the wake, dressed in purple to bid their leader farewell. Sean showed up, wearing Apollo’s signature plaid white and purple shirt. It was almost as if he was letting everyone know that he was taking Apollo’s place as their leader. There he was, about to go work for the man who was responsible for Apollo’s death, yet there he was, rockin’ Royal’s colors and taking a spot that he’d wanted to be in ever since we were kids. I wasn’t sure whose side Sean was on, but I would soon find out.
The funeral was held Friday, around eleven in the morning. It was not a service that I was looking forward to, as if any funeral was. I hadn’t stepped foot into a church since my brother’s funeral. My father was sleeping with the pastor’s wife at the church where my brother’s funeral was held. Not only was I forced to go to a closed-casket service for my brother, because his face was mutilated in the car crash, but I had to face the woman who’d my father was cheating with. I swore I’d never step foot in a church again unless it was for someone who couldn’t make it without my support.
“Look at this hoe.” Mariah nudged me in church that Friday as we watched Fatima strolling into church, hand and hand, with Snare.
I rolled my eyes at the bitch as she walked by, not even looking my way, though I knew she saw me sitting there in the fifth row of the church.
Sean didn’t show up to the service. That was to be expected. He had business to attend to with A.J. Miller, who was also absent from the service. He went to Wale’s funeral the day before, but somehow managed to miss Apollo’s. The muthafucka couldn’t even see his own son being put into the ground. Antwan’s aunts in Florida refused to come and get Apollo’s daughters. The girls took turns staying with me and with Mariah that week. Turned out, the family that his mother was visiting in Florida was A.J. Miller’s family members. Turned out, Apollo and Antwan were raised by A.J. Miller’s family. A.J.’s mother raised the boys until she died, leaving them to be raised by his brother, Queen’s father. Antwan assumed that his mother’s family raised him.
Judge Troy Michael showed up to the hospital that Monday that Antwan was released. He told Antwan that Apollo almost died the day that they were born. That there were so many drugs in his mother’s system. His mother was trying to kill herself and her babies for whatever A.J. Miller and his family were putting her through. The judge couldn’t even get around to telling Antwan how A.J.’s family ended up with Denise’s children. He didn’t want to hear anymore once he found out that his mother left him and his brothers with that evil family.
The worst part of the funeral service was watching Antwan break down over his brother’s body as they lowered Apollo’s body into the ground. Antwan dropped to his knees, crying out, cursing at the top of his lungs at God. My heart raced in my chest, and I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees right next to him. I surrounded Antwan in my arms, his tears soaking my shoulder.
Bright and early the next morning, I received a text from Karen saying that there was going to be a meeting at 8:30 that morning and that everyone needed to be there and on time. I was exhausted. Throughout that week, I was helping Sean move into his new place. The place that we were to move in once we were married. Between making sure Antwan was okay and helping Sean decorate his place, I was pooped. Not to mention, Sean started going to therapy that week as promised. Despite the fact that we were about to go on tour, Sean was scheduled to start rehab the first week of March. I wasn’t sure if Sean’s efforts to change were genuine or not. It seemed a little rehearsed. Seemed as though he was trying to compete for me, as if it were some game. I was in no mood for any meetings. I knew that a tour was coming up that Karen wanted me to take part in, even though I wasn’t a part of any of the performances. She’d hired a background singer that week, since I was procrastinating on signing a singing contract with her. Tiara Knowles was her new background singer. Karen introduced me to her the day of Apollo’s funeral. I guess Karen wanted me to meet my competition.
I got up, threw on a Marilyn Monroe fitted tee and denim tights and headed out the door. I stepped foot in Instinctive that day at the exact same moment that Antwan pulled up to the building. He was just as unenthusiastic to be at the building as I was. He looked like he’d been up all night, drinking and getting high. His eyes were low as hell, and he smelled like he tossed back a few pints of Hennessey. We didn’t say anything to one another as we strolled down the hallway to Karen’s conference room, Antwan’s three new bodyguards following behind us.
We both stopped in our tracks after entering the double wooden doors of Karen’s grand conference room. There, at the head of her table, sat A.J. Miller. And sitting to his left was Sean. I looked at Antwan who removed his blue baseball cap from his head.
“Come in.” Karen looked at her watch. “It’s 8:35. You’re both late.”
I glanced at Sean, who glared at Antwan, actually thinking we rolled in the spot together. I rolled my eyes before walking into the room, going over to stand alongside the wall with Mariah, who saved me a space beside her in the crowded room.
Antwan entered the room but didn’t go any further than the wall alongside the entrance. He leaned back against the wall, hands in his pockets, like he had better things to do. “Can we hurry up with this bullshit ass meeting? I have better things to do with my time than be in the same room with the muthafucka who’s responsible for his own got-damn son’s death.”
Karen sighed. “Antwan, now, what happened to your brother was tragic, but we can’t go jumping to conclusions. You already know that Apollo was into it with Murk for years. And you already know that McKaylah’s brother was their leader.” Karen cut Antwan off before he could continue. “Apollo was A.J.’s son, just as you are, Antwan, so stop making this something that it’s not. Can we get on with business and leave this family feud shit outside the door?”
Antwan’s temples twitched as he leaned against the wall, waiting for her to go on with her speech. He glanced at A.J., who was sitting at the head of the table, a smirk swiping across his face. I swear, he looked like the chocolate version of Antwan.
“We are happy to announce our merge. It’s happened a lot faster than anticipated. Our lawyers sat down and drew up new contracts for our companies. In six months, we will no longer be Instinctive Entertainment. We will take on Relentless as our company name. We will then draw up a new contract. I would like you all to look over the contracts and get them back to me as soon as possible.” Karen signaled Vita-Jean to hand out the contracts. “Trey Benson came to me yesterday after the service, asking me if we could perform a few of Apollo’s songs as tribute for him tomorrow in Miami, and I agreed.”
I looked at Antwan, knowing he was about to go off.
“Come again?” Antwan made a face.
“We are going on tour tomorrow.” Ervin, who sat to A.J’s left, spoke up for his wife.
“But—” Brandie, who stood alongside the wall with the other dancers, cleared her throat. She glanced at Antwan. “I thought y’all would postpone the tour for a little while being that Antwan’s brother just passed away.”
Karen looked at Brandie with ‘where they do that at’ written all over her face. “We leave for Miami tomorrow,” Karen replied.
Antwan stood up from leaning against the wall. “Nah, man. My muthafuckin brother just died, and y’all niggas want me to perform? Hell nah! I ain’t performing shit!”
A.J. spoke up, his domineering voice echoing about the room. “I just lost my son, Wale, so I know how you feel, Antwan.”
“And I just lost my muthafuckin’ brother, Apollo, who was your muthafuckin’ son too, nigga!” Antwan snarled.
“We leave tonight, and that’s it, Antwan. Go home, pack your shit.” Ervin shook his head at Antwan.
“There’s always some shit with you. We’re not going through this shit tonight. Your brother’s gone. I know it’s rough, but the show must go on. Antwan, where are you going?” Ervin huffed, talking to Antwan’s back as he headed back towards the door to the conference room.
“Yeah, it can go on, without me, muthafucka.” Antwan held his middle finger to the sky as he left out the door.
***
I couldn’t let Antwan ruin his opportunities and the ones of his friends who depended on him. No one could find Antwan that night. Karen had booked everyone’s reservation, including mine, at the Biltmore Hotel. Once I found out that Antwan canceled his reservation, I cancelled mine as well. I wasn’t going without him, despite the fact that Sean was staying behind with A.J. Miller to catch a later flight that night than the rest of us. Karen wanted me on the first flight to ensure that I was on time when they had a meet and greet that night at a club in Miami. I was in no mood to meet anyone let alone go on tour in the first place.
Antwan’s friends looked everywhere for him that night. Our flight was leaving at 9:15, and it was 7:30. I knew just where Antwan was.
“What are you doing here?” Antwan asked, seeing me strolling up to meet him on the rooftop of his apartment building in Bethesda.
“You didn’t think I was going to Miami without you, did you?” I asked, sitting down next to him, alongside the pool.
Antwan’s temples twitched. “Don’t miss your opportunity, shawty.”
I scoffed. “Don’t miss yours.”
Antwan just looked at me.
“Your friends are depending on you, Antwan. The same friends that you brought from the streets with you into fame are looking up to you. You know Queen didn’t want to do this; she’s doing this for your, boo. You can’t let them down.” I looked his handsome, sad face over.
“I just wanna give up, Lyric.” Antwan shook his head at me.
The LyricsTo His Song Page 17
