The LyricsTo His Song

by Krystal Armstead

  That really broke Antwan down. The crowd was silent, hurting with Antwan. They knew his brother was killed the weekend before. They were a lot more understanding than Karen was. She stood alongside Sheena, arms folded, Prada shoes tapping against the ground.

  I had to do something. Oh my goodness, I hated the song that was playing. But I had to help Antwan. They were going to think I was a joke, but I really didn’t care. Antwan needed me. Sean, who finally showed up late that evening was behind the turntable on stage, serenading the crowd with his signature beats. He watched as I hesitated out on stage towards Antwan, mic in my hand, sexy, long-sleeved, slim fit, denim jean dress hugging my hips, nude Red Bottoms on my feet.

  “What are you doing?” Queen tried to grab my arm, but I pushed her away.

  I exhaled deeply, placing the microphone to my lips. And I started spitting the first verse of the song. I was late, but I was there. “Let me tell you about this girl named Trina. She said she wanted a freak in the evening like her name was Adina. She said she had a man, but the nigga won’t shit. She didn’t wanna talk, said all she wanted was the dick!”

  The crowd was hype, even though they didn’t know who I was and why I was rapping the lyrics to a song clearly written for a man.

  “I asked her how did she want it, how did it feel to fuck with a nigga who had a couple mil!” I approached Antwan, taking center stage. “Shawty was ready to fuck right there in her nigga’s car; I said, ‘hold up shawty, you’re about to take it too far. What happens when your nigga rolls up and unloads?’ Shawty said fuck it and started taking off her clothes. She pulled up her skirt and said, ‘boy, I got a gun. Your girl, Trina, is a rider; you don’ found the right one.’”

  Antwan looked up at me, tears racing from his eyes, but a grin on his face as the background vocalists to the rear of the stage began singing the hook to his brother’s song. Antwan dried his face, standing up from the stool. I patted him in his chest, letting him know that I was there if he needed me, but I was about to leave the stage. He grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him.

  Antwan shook his head at me, thinking I was crazy as I held the mic to my lips, rapping the second verse, his verse. “Here comes her nigga, creepin’, askin’ muthafuckas, ‘man, have you seen Apollo?’ ‘Last time I seen him, he had Trina’s mouth wide open, saying hurry up and swallow.’ Her man was heated, pistol swinging, went and got his boyz from the block. He had in his mind when he caught me, he would off me, I was gonna get shot.”

  I got two verses and a hook in before Antwan got the strength to spit fire for his fans. I don’t know where all that adrenaline had come from. I would never hear the last of that performance. Karen was pissed, though Apollo’s management liked my version of Apollo’s song and my dedication to Antwan to help him in his time of need. I couldn’t leave him hanging. When I was on that stage, all I saw was Antwan’s tears. He needed me. The band and even the dancers were lost without him. My sister didn’t even know how to congratulate me after the show. All she could do was invite me to sit with the dancers in VIP after the show. I wasn’t up for it. I used all of my energy on Antwan. If I was going to be any good the following day, I had to go back to the room for some rest. Everyone was headed out to the after party, including Sean, who didn’t even bother to ask which hotel that I was staying in. He was feeling some type of way about me backing Antwan up on stage, and at that point, I could really care less. Once A.J. Miller showed his face at the club, I left.

  Back at the room, I sat on the bed, packing my clothes. We were headed to Houston the next day to perform in concert. Karen was in search for the second songwriter to add to her team. The entire day before the concert was going to be spent at rehearsal and in the studio. Karen’s goal was to get Antwan to the BET awards that summer, and she just knew I could get him there. His music was banned from both BET and MTV. They claimed his music was filled with violence against state officials and women, and that if he wanted to appear on anything affiliated with their television stations, he had to tone his music down a few notches.

  I smiled to myself, folding the dress that Mariah gave me, telling me it looked better on me than it did her because of my long slender legs. I couldn’t stop thinking of the look on Antwan’s face when I rapped his brother’s verse. He looked at me as if I’d brought his brother back to life. Truth was, being around Antwan brought something out in me that I never even knew that I had. Courage. Versatility. Life.

  The door to the hotel room crept open. I looked up to see Antwan making his way into the room, closing the door behind him.

  I grinned at him before zipping up my suitcase.

  “Why aren’t you getting ready to roll with ya girl, Mariah, shawty? She said she’s about to hit the club with Queen before they check out the after party tonight. She was looking for you at the Biltmore when I swung by there to talk to my niggas in the lobby. She asked me if I knew where you were. I said nah, assuming you didn’t tell her that you were staying with me.” Antwan approached me.

  I stood from the bed, shaking my head, rolling my eyes. “Hell nah, I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone. You know this isn’t appropriate. I appreciate you not freaking out when I had my nightmares last night. They can get pretty intense. They used to freak Sean out pretty bad.”

  Antwan scoffed. “That’s cuz Sean’s a weak ass nigga. He doesn’t know what it is to have someone’s back unless it’s his own. I got’cha back, shawty. No need to thank me.”

  I just looked into his face as he pulled his hat down over his eyes a little further. He was having a hard time telling me something. “You okay?”

  Antwan shook his head. “Nah. I’m just thinking about my nieces, man. What am I supposed to tell them when they ask me where their daddy is? I’ma have to raise these girls on my own. McKaylah’s racist ass family doesn’t want her kids, and McKaylah already had a nigga listed as the next of kin on their hospital records. I’ma have to get my lawyer to help me get full custody of these girls before the state tries to take them from me.”

  “I’ll help you with the girls. I’m sure everyone will help you, boo,” I assured him.

  Antwan was still on edge. He looked like he needed some air. “Ummm…You wanna play basketball?”

  I grinned. “But it’s 12:18 in the morning, at night, however you wanna put it.”

  Antwan shrugged. “So. Go change.”

  So there I was, in the middle of the night, center of a basketball court in an empty neighborhood park with Antwan Jared. I don’t remember the last time that I had so much fun doing something so simple with someone, a guy at that. Antwan needed to let off some steam. He wasn’t a drinker, a smoker, or a drug user. Or at least he didn’t do the shit around me. There I was, looking cute in my tank top—tied in a knot in the back—and little Adidas shorts, hair pulled up in a messy bun. White ankle socks. Black and white Adidas. Antwan was dressed in his tank top and baggy gray gym shorts, black Polo boxers showing. Gray J’s on his feet. “The Hood Raised Me” black baseball cap on his head. He was pretty good at playing basketball. I wasn’t so bad myself. I played in high school, though my parents wanted me to keep my head in the books, so I never pursued an athletic career. I got my business administration and management degree and didn’t go anywhere with it because Sean promised me that he would take care of me and I didn’t have to do anything but be pretty and wait on him to come home at night. That dream shriveled as soon as he got his taste of fame. My athletic opportunities passed, and Sean’s dreams soared off. All I had left was writing, which I did on my own private time until Antwan made his way over to me that day in Foot Locker, just a week earlier.

  “Damn!” Antwan crashed down onto the bench that sat alongside the court. “Why didn’t you tell a nigga you had skills like that?” Antwan frowned at me as I sat down next to him, smirking, guzzling down half a bottle of Peach Lipton’s Iced Tea. “I thought ya ass was just gonna look cute and try to dribble the ball around me, but nah! How many points did your ass score? G
ot-damn!”

  I laughed out loud, though I was totally out of breath. “Oh, I know I’m gonna pay for this tomorrow! I haven’t played ball in some years, hun! Shit, I surprised myself. I didn’t know I still had it. No one plays ball with me.”

  Antwan grinned, drying the sweat from his face with his shirt. “You can play with my balls if you want.”

  My eyes widened as I shoved him. “Nasty ass.”

  Antwan laughed a little. Though he was sweating, looking like he just stepped out of the shower, when the wind blew past us, oh my goodness, the smell of his Giorgio Armani cologne flowed through my nose, nearly crossing my eyes. Antwan’s smile faded. “Whenever I was on tour, my brother would fly out to meet me. Me and my crew were on tour a lot this year, but I swear, I felt like I never left home. Apollo was always flying out to meet me, and whenever he did, we would get a group of niggas together and play ball. Apollo stayed whippin’ my ass on the court. My brother had so many skills but would never use them. It took me years to get him to record in that studio, and the moment BAM record executives heard the first few bars of his song, they were shoving that muthafuckin’ contract in his face!” Antwan laughed to himself, before his eyes glossed over.

  I turned to him on the bench. “I know it’s hard; trust me, boo. I lost my brother, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. You never get over losing someone who was so close to you. That hole in your heart stays there forever. Nothing fills that void. All you can do is concentrate your energy on something else that you love. You have your music, you have your friends, you have your fans.”

  Antwan looked at me as he slouched back in his chair. “What about you? Sean doesn’t need you, shawty, I do. Let me have you.”

  I shook my head at him. “That’s your grief talking, hun. You and me together? Don’t you think that would complicate things just a little? I mean, I am engaged.”

  Antwan sucked his teeth. “I bet I know more about you than ya nigga does. Ask me one question about you, and watch me get the answer right.”

  I looked at him, hesitating for a minute. “I’m not doing this with you.”

  “C’mon, ask me one question, and I bet I know it. C’mon, try me.” Antwan’s eyes searched my face.

  I nodded, grinning a little. “What’s my favorite ice cream?”

  Antwan shook his head. “You don’t have one. You’re lactose intolerant. I know because right after you ate that got-damn mac and cheese at Carolina Kitchen, your ass was steady going to the bathroom. You know that shit gave you the bubblies. I don’t even know why you even ate that shit!”

  I laughed out loud. “It was so good too! Okay, what about my favorite brand of clothing?”

  Antwan looked at me, shaking his head. “I need to be calling you Adidas because that’s all you rock outside of the cute get-ups you’ve been rocking to my shows and to that fake-ass engagement lunch at your parents. Man, come on, ask me something hard.”

  I sighed. “Why did I fall for someone like Sean?”

  Antwan looked at me. “Because you were looking for someone like your father. We only go for what we know, shawty. It’s sad but true.”

  I sighed. “I have needed something like this, Antwan. I don’t get this kind of attention. Ever. And I need it. Thank you.” I had to tell Antwan.

  He shook his head, “Why would you thank me? It’s not like you’re not doing me any favors. I don’t know when the last time I went somewhere without bodyguards. I don’t remember the last time that I got to just enjoy someone’s company without feeling the need to check my phone and see which calls I missed. From the day I met ya ass at Foot Locker, you had a nigga’s back. These muthafuckin’ shoes go with every got-damn thing.” Antwan grinned a little.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, seriously, I have to thank you. For giving me this opportunity and for respecting me. I have been meaning to tell you that, outside of barging in the bathroom on me, you have been a perfect gentleman.” I grinned at him, patting his shoulder before bending over and picking up the towel that I’d dropped on the ground.

  “Yeah, about that,” Antwan grinned, eyeing my thighs a little before looking back into my face. “You ummm, you really came through for me today, real talk.”

  I shook my head, sipping from my bottle. “Nah, boo, I just did what anyone would have done.”

  Antwan disagreed. “Who else stepped out there the way that you did? You hate that got-damn song!” Antwan laughed to himself, watching me roll my eyes. “But you knew every word, not missing a lick. You say you’re scared to step out there on stage, but I can’t tell. I was lost out other on that stage without Apollo. I miss him like a muthafucka. I feel like a part of me is gone, and no one knew how I felt except for you. No one else knew what I needed tonight but you did, Lyric… My Lyric. When I can’t find the words to say, it’s like you always know them. You’re the shit, shawty.”

  My heart thumped in my chest as I lowered the bottle from my lips, watching Antwan grip my thigh in his hand. “You’re a good dude, Antwan. I was just doing a good deed for someone who just lost someone that he loved. I wasn’t just gonna leave you hanging like that.”

  “Just when I thought no one understood me, here you come, Lyric. You know just what to do, you know just what to say.” Antwan took a deep breath, letting go of my thigh, taking the bottle of tea out of my other hand, sitting it on top of the bench. “Nah, I can’t let you marry this nigga. Give the nigga his ring back.”

  I laughed a little to myself. “What, Antwan? Boy, stop. I had a lot of fun whippin’ your ass out here on the court tonight, but it’s getting late. If you run, you can catch your boys at that after party. A lot of bad bitches are gonna be in the spot tonight. After seeing your sensitive side, I’m sure a few of them will be waiting and willing to suck the life out of you, literally. They’d love to climb that ladder of yours.” I rolled my eyes, getting up from the bench. “What time does the party start? It probably already started.” I attempted to walk past him when he hopped up from the bench and grabbed my body to his, his lips pressing against mine. Again.

  “The party starts now. Out here in the park. We’re alone. No one’s watching. I’m sure your nigga knows you’re with me. Let’s piss ya man off some more. I’m sick of waiting. I think a week is long enough. Don’t you?” Antwan whispered between kisses, sliding his hands around first my bare shoulders, then my neck, then through my hair.

  I squealed in his mouth, pulling my lips from his, shaking my head frantically. “Ugh-ugh, Antwan, no!”

  Antwan was kissing my forehead, then my cheeks, then my ear. “You know Sean doesn’t deserve you. He’s never there for you when you need him. The nigga stays fuckin’ up on his job; you should’ve laid the nigga off years ago. As a matter-of-fact, you should have never hired the muthafucka!”

  “But you said fuck love, remember?” I sighed as Antwan sat back down on the bench, pulling me down with him onto his lap. I straddled his lap as he wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands slid around my waist, fingers slipping below my waistband. I squealed as his hands cupped my butt cheeks, squeezing them a little. “Antwan, you said you didn’t have time for love, remember? Stop it!” I giggled a little.

  “Yeah, I know.” Antwan exhaled deeply, eyes searching my face. “But I can make time for you. You’re more than love, shawty—you’re life. And I need you. Nah, I don’t wanna fall in love, but I don’t want to lose you to that nigga either. Let’s just have a little fun, no strings attached, see where it goes, huh? Can we do that? I just met you, but right now, you’re the only thing keeping me going. You already know I wanna go fuck up some shit back in Maryland. You’re all I have left of my brother or my mother.” Antwan kissed my lips. “Don’t give my heart to this nigga; he doesn’t deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve all of this.” Antwan gripped my butt cheeks tighter in his hands. “Got-damn, your ass fits perfectly in my hands.”

  I shouldn’t have been in that man’s lap. I shouldn’t have been kissing him. Oh, why did I le
t him slid his hands down my pants? My body shivered up against his as he slid his fingers down the crack of my ass, sliding in between my pussy lips.

  “This is wrong.” I sighed, as his lips brushed against my neck. “I don’t even know you. You don’t even know me. We’re moving too fast! We need to stop… It’s only been a week, Antwan.”

  “Yeah, but a nigga is already attached to you.” Antwan whispered. “Come on; fuck with a nigga. I won’t hurt you, Audrey, I promise. We don’t even have to put a label on us just as long as there is an us.” His lips touched mine again. “Shit.” Antwan moaned in my mouth, lifting his butt up from the bench so he could slide his pants down enough to get that pierced dick through the opening in his boxers.

  I squealed as Antwan slid the leg of my shorts up just a little, enough to get to my panties so that he could slide them to the side. Everything happened so got-damn fast. I don’t even remember if he lifted my body up, or I lifted my own up, or if it was a combination of both. All I knew was I was moaning in his ear as he slid that big, throbbing, pierced dick through me, his piercings sliding against each ripple of my pussy walls. I just knew that I was going to orgasm right then and there. I swear, though what we were doing was wrong, that Frenum Ladder felt like the stairway to Heaven.

  Antwan moaned, hands sliding up my torso, left hand cupping my breasts, the other slightly around my neck. “This nigga has to be out of his muthafuckin’ mind!” Antwan yelled out before tugging on my ponytail.

  This dude had me wide open, about to fuck him on the bench in a park. I had never done anything to that extreme. All of my firsts were with Sean, and there I was, making new memories with Antwan. Every moment with Antwan felt so damn good, but we were wrong.

  Afraid to pounce on the dick, I leaned forward, body resting on his, face buried in his neck. “Antwan, we can’t do this.” I sighed as Antwan’s dick throbbed inside of me. I wanted to ride the fuck out of him, but guilt started to set in. “Sean, he—”