She Used to Be the Sweetest Girl

by Briann Danae

  Shemel and his team had been out in Atlanta going on week two and hadn’t got to experience the nightlife at all. His manager had meetings lined up back to back with people and wanted Shemel to deliver at his best. This wasn’t like the performance, where he could get turned up and still perform. His career was on the line and so was his managers. They had no time nor room for fuck ups, especially in the rap industry. One mistake or bad dealing and they’d try and tarnish your name forever.

  Slipping his phone back in his pocket, Shemel brought his attention back to the CEO of Homage Entertainment. With Grammy award winning artists signed under their label, Shemel felt humbled to even be in the same room as him. The fact that he had reached out to his manager spoke volumes. It wasn’t every day someone from his hometown got flown out to sit and discuss deals with the big leagues. As soon as the ticket confirmation was emailed to him, Mel knew his life was about to change for the better.

  There was only one issue stopping him… the streets. Even as he sat in this fancy ass board room, with rich white folks and their thousand dollars suits on, he was thinking of a way he could flip the money he had stashed in his safe before he left. Taking the deal would put him in the spotlight, and although that’s what he wanted for his rap career, the street life was calling his name. It wasn’t all he’d known his whole life, but it played a huge part in his income over the years. Stopping his flow of money so abruptly was not something he was looking forward to at all.

  He craved the hustle and appreciated the late nights of counting money until the wee hours of the morning. His adrenaline pumped when he flipped a brick and doubled his money back before his night ended. The same way he felt toward the streets, was the same way he slowly began to feel about his music. It came effortlessly to him and the feedback from fans was more than he could have ever imagined. He couldn’t live both lives and he’d have to make a decision sooner than later.

  “So what do you think Young Mel? If you’re not sure right now where you stand with our offer, we’ll gladly give you time to speak with your manager and look the contract over,” Mr. Homage said.

  Shemel stared at the contract, sighing heavily. He had way too much on his brain to consider. They were basically asking him to sign his life away. Picking up the water bottle, he unscrewed the top and took a slow sip. Wishing it was some Hennessey instead, he sat it back down. That’s exactly what he needed. A drink to calm his nerves. Contrary to everyone’s beliefs, he wasn’t nervous at all when he stepped into the room. He figured if they chose to reach out to him, it was for a reason. Only niggas who got looked over were those who were slept on or simply garbage artists. He was neither, and they both knew that.

  “We’ll look it over and let you know something in a few days,” Shemel replied.

  “Good, good. That’s what I like to hear. Don’t take too long now. We’re trying to make you a millionaire before you hit 26,” Howard chuckled, but was serious.

  Him saying that meant he had a year to put his plan into action and he meant what he said. Shemel had saw close to a million in dirty money, but there was nothing like clean, legit money. He always had to be cautious how he spent it and what he spent it on. No matter how many times he cleaned it up, there was always more dirty than clean funds laying around. It never failed.

  “I like the sound of that sir,” Mel replied, giving him a firm handshake.

  Howard walked out the glass doors with his team following behind him. The meeting had lasted over two hours and at ten o’clock, he had meetings lined up for the remainder of the day. Running a company had always been his dream. Giving people the opportunity to showcase their talent and love for music is exactly what Howard’s brand was built from. He wished someone had given him a chance back in his younger days, and since they hadn’t, he planned to take the music industry by storm. Howard knew Shemel had what it took to change the game, and wanted to make his dream a reality if he’d let him.

  Leaning back in his chair, Shemel ran his hand over his face. He was grateful for this opportunity, but his indecisiveness was driving him crazy. He never had to make a decision as crucial as the one presented to him in such a short amount of time. The two worlds had never collided and now that they had, he was needing to sleep on his options. Not only sleep on them, but discuss it with his dad. Even though he was grown, he still looked to his dad for support. He hadn’t got that far in the game by not listening and he wouldn’t start now.

  Standing up from his chair, he stretched and let out a much-needed yawn. Functioning on a few hours of sleep, Shemel wanted to desperately crawl back in the bed and blow Brix’s phone up like some love sick puppy. He couldn’t though. There were moves to be made and other companies to negotiate with if the prices were looking right.

  Patting his manager on the shoulder, he thanked him. He had been his manager for the last three years and he was considered a friend of the family at this point. He had put too much money in his pocket and made quick decisions not to be. A key asset to Shemel’s career, he was indeed and got paid handsomely for it.

  He had a PR representative and didn’t feel like he needed one honestly, but was thankful for her on the days he didn’t feel like being bothered. With his name well-known in the streets, Jae took her job serious as hell. The image of her client was not going to be tarnished before he even made it to the top. On plenty of occasions, she fussed at him about getting out the game, but as always, it went in one ear and out the other, as Mel put his lifestyle into the lyrics he rapped. He wanted to keep it as real as possible with his fans, but sometimes being too real offended the right set of people.

  “Yo Jae, what social media talking about?” he asked, as they walked out the room.

  Pulling her head up quickly, Jae smiled. She was a pretty brown skin woman, who stood about 5’5, thick curly hair she styled differently almost every day, with a crazy bubbly personality. Never get on her bad side though. Once you crossed her, there was never any coming back after that. That’s why her and Shemel got along so well. He lived by those rules as well and so far had held up his end of the deal. People used to think they were an item until she showed off her seven-carat, diamond cut ring from her husband of seven years. All the speculations and rumors were quickly put to rest thereafter.

  “Shemel, I don’t know why you just won’t get an Instagram. I’m not going to always be with you, you do know that right?” Jae asked laughing.

  “I don’t need all that when I got you. I’ll just use your login stuff until I’m famous. After my first tour, I’ll make one,” he replied.

  “We’ll see. By then, you really gone be popping and having me work my ass off.”

  “Damn right. You good for it, though, Jae.”

  Just as he turned the corner, he came crashing into another body. Quickly placing his hand out, he caught the person before they went crashing toward the ground. Regaining her balance, Marcella adjusted her leather jacket. She was the newest artist signed to Homage and was already killing the charts. Smiling, she introduced herself.

  “You’d think with all this money, they’d make the hallways a little bigger. Marcella,” she said sticking her hand for Mel to shake.

  “Young Mel,” Shemel replied.

  Looking over her appearance, he nodded his head in approval. Not quite his type, but still a nice looking girl. He began to think of which one of his cousins he could put on. The red bob Marcella was rocking, was indeed cold. The hair stylist slayed her hair a few hours prior, preparing her for a radio interview she had later in the day. The twenty-year-old singer had the streets going crazy with a single she released a month ago. They were all on the wait list and she couldn’t be more excited to speak with them all.

  “Nice to meet you. Are you the new guy everyone is tripping over?” she asked, chuckling.

  “Tripping over? Who are these people you speak of?”

  “A few of the women downstairs. They said it was some fine ass dread head up here, but I didn’t believe them. So you kno
w, had to come check it out for myself. See what all the fuss was about,” she blushed.

  Grinning, Shemel shook his head. He hadn’t missed all the lustful stares from the women earlier, but he paid them no mind. He knew he was a fly ass nigga. Women were bound to look, whether they wanted to or not. He had that effect on almost everyone he met.

  “So what you think? Were their assumptions correct?” he asked slyly.

  Placing a hand over her mouth, she let out a small chuckle. Marcella was not expecting him to say that, but should have known better. His appearance screamed cocky young nigga, but his conversation was smooth as wine. Shemel was far from a cocky nigga, but was well aware of his capabilities when it came to woman. He didn’t have to try hard, ever. He had never even sweat a chick until recently. Brix had him on some other shit lately, and he couldn’t deny the way it had him feeling.

  Stepping closer, Marcella brought her lips close to his ear. Brushing them teasingly against his lobe, she began to whisper.

  “They were right, you are fine. Not finer than my woman though,” she said, backing up slowly with a grin.

  Cocking his head to the side, Shemel smirked. Not near the response he was expecting, but he couldn’t be mad at her response. At least he knew she wasn’t trying to push up on him. Marcella was just being a tease like always. For those who didn’t know of her or follow her on social media, they had no idea she was a lesbian. She had no problem with letting anyone know either.

  “Word? Okay shawty, I see you.”

  “Hey. No need to front,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “What you got up for tomorrow night? I know this really cool club we can go to.”

  Shemel’s manager tapped him on the shoulder before he could respond. Holding his finger up, he stepped off to the side to see what was going on.

  “So it looks like the other people we were supposed to meet up with later on today canceled due to an emergency they have going on. You’re free for the day after this next meeting at one,” his manager said.

  “Alright, bet. I’ll probably just cool out to be honest. I get into some shit out in the A, Jae gone trip out on me,” he said, with a chuckle.

  “Exactly, and we need you in one piece to sign this contract,” he replied back, patting him on the back.

  Walking back over to Marcella, he pulled out his phone to exchange numbers. He was going to be free for the last few days of his stay and wouldn’t mind turning up with her. Mel knew who she was, and if he planned to sign to Homage, he figured he’d might as well get acquainted with a few of the artists. Preferably the women; he had enough niggas on his team. He didn’t need any new friends.

  Handing his phone back, Marcella said her goodbyes before heading down the hall. She was five minutes behind to her meeting. That’s the real reason she was upstairs in the first place. Looking at his screen, he checked to see what she saved her name as. It was her real name, no emoji’s. Glad that she kept it simple. That let Shemel know she wasn’t checking for him. Most women he came across wanted to have a silly pet name or some damn emoji’s. He couldn’t front though; he did the same with his name in Brix’s phone, but he was making a statement.

  Going to his messages, he sent Pierre a text asking if he’d talked to Carissa. Brix still hadn’t texted him back and he was getting concerned. His mind began to go in overdrive thinking of the most negative shit that could have been going on with her. A few hours without replying? Cool. Two days though? Nah, that wasn’t gone fly with Shemel. He didn’t want to seem pressed, but damn was it hard not to be.

  Pierre: Nah nigga. Why?

  Mel: Brix ain’t replying .. shit idk what’s going on. Tryna figure out what’s up.

  Pierre: Aww, you miss her lol.

  Mel: Lol gone nigga. I’m just saying.

  Pierre: I ain’t texting Carissa so I don’t know what to tell you

  Mel: Punk ass. I’ll figure something out. How shit looking?

  Pierre: A1.

  Mel: Good shit. I’ll hit yo line after this meeting.

  Pierre: Fa sho.

  Not getting any further with his plan to reach Brix, Shemel sighed heavily. Wasn’t too much more he could do if she didn’t want to reply back. If he was back home, he’d definitely be pulling up on her in a quickness. Back in St. Louis, Brix was ignoring him just like he did the day her car got damaged. She was in no mood to deal with him. It was so funny to her that he could ignore her, and it was cool, but when she did it, all hell broke loose. Double standards were a mufucka.

  Sliding his phone back into his jeans, they all walked toward the elevator. The cancellation of his meeting with the other company was music to his ears. It was also another chance for him to weigh his options. With not many choices left and the money some were offering, Homage was looking like the win. He’d make his decision in a few days before they headed back home. He wanted to clear his head of Brix, and all other things that could cloud his decision making. In the end this was his life and his career at stake.

  “So what you think Shemel? Could you see yourself with this company?” Jae asked, as they all got comfortable inside his manager’s Expedition.

  Pondering over her question, Shemel rubbed his goatee. The money they were talking sounded right. He had heard nothing but good feedback from them and a few negative comments, but that’s a part of the business. Howard hadn’t sugar-coated shit over the two-hour meeting, and Shemel appreciated that. Of course he couldn’t tell him all the gritty details of the industry in one sitting, but he gave him enough to sleep on and look out for.

  “I know a lot of people who work with Howard, Mel. The man is about his money, but more importantly, he wants to see his artists make it. Not just make it, but get to the top and stay there. As your manager, I feel the same way. I’m not trying to persuade you with a speech, but really think about your decision. You have a week or so before they want a reply, so no pressure. Well, shit. Then again, yes it is, but you know what I mean,” his manager said, peeling his eyes away from the review mirror.

  Shemel was never easily persuaded, but the speech had given him more than enough to think about. It wasn’t all about the money to him, because there was a time he was giving his mixtapes out for free. He still did for some, but that’s how you market yourself. Mel felt like there was no need to even visit with anyone else at this point. The vibes were good from Howard, and he never misjudged a vibe. Only issues was this street shit. It was slowly but surely, becoming a burden of his thoughts. Knowing that this opportunity only came once in a lifetime, Shemel answered.

  “Yeah. I can most definitely see myself here. I gotta make a few adjustments first, but we good,” he said nodding his head. “Yeah, we gone be good here.”

  * * * * *

  “Are you enjoying yourself!” Marcella yelled over the loud music that blasted through their section.

  The club scene on any given day in Atlanta was expected to be live, but Saturdays were when the crowd really came out. SWAY, one of the hottest clubs was in full effect. It had only been open for about six months, and Marcella liked it because it was somewhat low key. That was not the case tonight though. An announcement had been made that she was coming through to turn up and everyone came out to see her.

  Bobbing his head to the music, Shemel lifted his glass, acknowledging her question. The clubs vibe was definitely laid back. It was nothing like the clubs back in St. Louis and that was saying a lot. Seeing as though it was still considered brand new, the upkeep of the place was still in good condition. Adorning each side of the dance floor were rows of comfortable booths. Anywhere you stood in the club, you could easily see the dance floor and the DJ booth. Bottle service girls were at your beck and call if you were seated in one of the booths and Shemel needed another one quick.

  Without him even having to get one of the girl’s attention, one walked over carrying a bucket full of all the good shit. In the ice sat Hennessy, Patron, Apple Cîroc, and a bottle of Ace of Spades. Telling the girl thanks, Shemel gra
bbed the Henn and poured him a cup. He had been drinking it before they got to the club and felt like there was no need to switch it up. That’s the quickest way to get tore up. He saw it happen way too many times. One of the girls that came with Marcella had been eyeing him all night. Being the smooth nigga he was, Shemel played it cool. He was only here because Marcella invited him. If she hadn’t, he’d probably be cooped up in his room writing lyrics.

  “Hey Shemel,” Marcella’s friend, Tiffany, spoke.

  Looking at her attire, Shemel gave her a head nod. She was cute with dark chocolate skin, a small hoop nose ring, and the whitest teeth Shemel had ever seen. He knew she must have been using them teeth whiteners all the celebrities be promoting. The tight fitted bondage dress showed off her flat stomach and the small amount of ass she had. Tiffany stood there smiling, waiting for him to speak. She had done her research on Mr. Shemel and loved what she found out. Not being the one to shy away from what she wanted, she approached him.

  “What’s good ma,” Mel replied, before taking a drink from his cup. Licking his lips, he looked over at her, while Tiffany just stared.

  “Are you going to sign with Homage? That would be a really good look for you,” she said, excitedly.

  The random question came from out of nowhere and surprised Shemel. It had only been two days since the meeting and he had somewhat made up his mind, but was still needing to talk with his dad. After telling him the opportunities and hearing his view of things, Shemel was certain he’d be able to make a decision in the next week. Tiffany had a point though. Him signing to the hottest record label would be a good look, even more so for his fan base.

  “Nosey aren’t you?” he asked, chuckling.

  “Indeed. I did my research on you, and I think you’d be a great asset to the team.”

  “What? You sing too?” he questioned.

  “Hell no. I don’t rap either. I’m just Marcella’s friend, but I know my stuff. I’m in school for broadcast journalism. I have to stay up to date on who’s who and what not.”