Amber’s voice was somber as she took her phone back. “I’m sorry. This is supposed to be a relaxing day for you.”
I quickly assured her, “Oh, I’m relaxed. More relaxed than ever. Matter of fact, can we get some more champagne in here? Drinks on Gavin, right?”
Gavin
I called myself surprising Reagan again, but I was the only one surprised by the fact that the key wasn’t in its usual place. I don’t know why I hadn’t just kept the key instead of letting her continue to hide it. But I suppose since I was gone more often than not these days, it made sense for her emergency key to stay in its emergency spot.
I knew she was home since her car was in the parking lot, so I gave the door a couple gentle knocks. Since I hadn’t called ahead, it would still technically be a surprise.
I waved to a few passer-byers, neighbors I had become familiar with over time, before knocking again. She still didn’t answer.
Hmm... maybe she’s taking a nap.
I pulled out my phone, trying to figure out how to get in touch with her without completely blowing my cover, settling on shooting her a text.
Hey beautiful. What you doin’? - Gavin
I leaned against the wall to get out of the way of the peephole as I waited for a reply.
Nothin’. Chillin’. - Reagan
I read the text twice and could instantly tell this was Reagan being mad at me, though I wasn’t sure why. I mean, what could I have possibly done in the past forty-eight hours to have fucked somethin’ new up?
The video.
Even with a warning, I was sure she still felt some type of way about it. But even if she did, I doubted she would be completely ignoring me over it.
It wasn’t that damn bad.
Are you purposely ignoring me knockin’ on your door? - Gavin
I was staring at my phone waiting on a reply when she finally decided to open the door. The first thing I noticed was the fact that she was wearing headphones, giving a good explanation for her not answering the door though I wasn’t sure why she had on headphones in the house. And even though she wasn’t looking at me, my eyes were certainly on her cute ass; her hair pulled up into a curly ponytail that sat right on top of her head like a pineapple with a scarf wrapped around it. Her white fluffy socks were pulled up as high as they could go, but still well short of the hem of the oversized t-shirt she was wearing.
“What are you listenin’ to?” I asked, though I wasn’t even sure if she could hear me.
She peeled the headphones from her ears and stood on her tippy toes to put them on mine. And to my surprise, she was actually listening to me. It was a song from my first mixtape ever, the one that I couldn’t believe was still floating around the web after all this time considering how ancient it felt. But with the new deal came a new source of attention which also brought an onslaught of new fans that were picking up whatever songs of mines they could get their hands on before my official album was released.
I nodded my head to the verse as if I didn’t know it by heart before I took the headphones off and handed them back to her.
“Good choice,” I told her with a smile that only made her roll her eyes.
I watched her closely as she switched her way to the kitchen, digging in the cabinet and offering me a bottle of Don Julio.
I took the bottle, tilting it to the side as I said, “Damn, Reagan. Tequila on a Sunday afternoon?”
“I think we’ll need it,” she replied as she snatched it back and pulled the cork so that she could take a shot straight from the bottle.
Okay, somethin’ is definitely wrong.
I snatched the bottle back to prevent her from taking a second shot.
“Fuck is goin’ on with you, Reagan?” Sure my girl was a casual drinker, but more so the type to have a glass of wine or two after work everyday. Not the type to be tossin’ back tequila straight from the bottle.
“Me? What’s going on with me? How about what’s going on with you?!” She yelled as she poked me in the chest.
“Yeah, you didn’t think I was gonna find out about your little secret romance, huh?”
“Yo, what are you talkin’ about?”
Her eyes were already turning red as she pulled the cord of her headphones from the jack of her phone so that she could hand it to me.
I looked at the screen and immediately noticed, “It’s locked, Reagan.”
She huffed as she snatched it back, typing in her passcode and scrolling through a few things before handing it to me once again. There were no words, just a picture of me coming out of Zalayah’s dressing room before the video shoot.
Oh shit.
“Yooooo, Reagan. This shit is not what it looks like.”
She poked me again. “Bullshit, Gavin. You two were all over the fuckin’ blogs. They can only make up so much. And these pictures are definitely not Photoshopped.”
I knew exactly where the pictures had come from so I had no problem explaining, “Look, sweetheart. I was… Zalayah was nervous about the shoot since this was her first time doing somethin’ like this, so I went in there to give her a little pep talk. That’s it.” I still wasn’t sure why I had gotten charged with the task of talking her into the shit as if I wanted to do the video myself. But without Zalayah, no money would’ve been made on the deal which meant the trip would’ve been pointless, and that was the last thing I needed to happen.
Reagan looked borderline deranged, making me wonder if she had already been drinking before I showed up as she replied, “And you know… as much sense as that makes, as true as that may be, it still doesn’t make me feel any better because I know this isn’t the last time you’ll be wrapped up in something like this. I can deal with you being busy. I can deal with you traveling the world to do music. I can deal with keeping our relationship under wraps. But what I can’t deal with is you being linked to a damn… child.”
I cringed at that last word though I completely understood her frustration. But still, it was hardly my fault.
I sat the bottle down on the counter as I tried to find a way to defend myself without getting upset. I mean, only a woman could take something that was completely out of my hands and put it in my hands expecting me to be able to do something about it as if it was ever in my possession to begin with.
Yeah, I’m confused too.
“Reagan, there’s literally nothing I can do about that. I mean, that’s a blogger’s job; to dig up shit and make stories out of nothin’.”
“Doesn’t mean I should just have to… deal with it.”
“Well you know what? That shit is a part of me, even if we both don’t like it. So if you want me, you gotta have all of me. But if you don’t… I get it. I can’t force you into this shit, just like I can’t magically make all the speculation of every female I work with go away.” It was a tough reality, but it was the truth. I couldn’t live my life trying to prove my loyalty to her just for her not to believe me anyway. Hell, if that was the case, I really should’ve been out here tryna fuck everything that came my way.
I watched Reagan as she picked up the bottle, giving the liquid a swirl and taking another shot before tossing out, “Can’t say we didn’t try.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know what it means, Gavin.”
“Nah, you know exactly what it means, Reagan. You’re really about to throw it all away over this little shit?” I couldn’t believe we were even having this conversation, let alone taking it this far.
But it all made sense once she yelled back, “It’s not little shit! It’s… It’s big shit!”
Clearly the tequila and whatever else she had been sippin’ on had kicked in.
I took a step towards her, crowding the little free space she had as I asked, “If this is big shit, then what are you gonna do when bigger shit happens, huh? It’s inevitable, right? Your mind is clearly already made up.”
Her breathing became frantic, her chest heaving up and down as she pushed out, “No it’s not.�
��
I wanted to believe her, but something told me not to. Maybe it was the theatrics, maybe it was the faint scent of tequila on her breath, or maybe it was just… her. But regardless of my reasoning, I couldn’t let things go unsaid no matter how much it hurt me to even think about hurting her.
So already feeling a little remorseful, I replied, “Sure sounds like it to me, Reagan. And if that’s how you really feel, then I can’t stop you. But if this is what you want, if I’m what you want, you know where to find me. And if not, I get it. Shit wasn’t real to begin with anyway.”
Reagan
Auto-pilot mode was saving me from a complete meltdown.
I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t… do anything other than go through the motions of a typical morning so that I could drag myself out of the door to get to work at a reasonable time. I even forced myself to listen to Gavin’s mixtape on the drive because that had become part of the norm, part of feeling closer to him when he was away.
But now was different.
He wasn’t just away, he was gone.
And it was all my fault.
Initially I blamed him. He shouldn’t have been talking to Zalayah, he shouldn’t have gotten caught in that picture, he shouldn’t have fucked things up for us. But it didn’t take long - just long enough for me to sober up - to recognize my own contribution to our problem. While Gavin was operating on good intentions, I was practically waiting on an opportunity for him to show me what I already believed to be the “real” him, just so I could justify why we couldn’t possibly work.
And that feeling, that insecurity, was a personal problem.
Gavin had literally done just about everything in his power to respect our relationship, and all it took was a measly blog post for me to snap, get out of character, put him in the same category as… Michael.
Was I really that scarred?
Sure the situation with Michael was fucked up, but things with Gavin were nowhere near that. In fact, things with Gavin had been beyond easy-going even when we had to compromise.
So why was I jumping to unnecessary conclusions?
Why was I so pressed to have some “ah-ha” moment?
Why was I pushing away one of the most important people in my life because of my own insecurities?
I got out of the car before I could burst into tears thinking about it all. But of course, the second I walked into the center, my reality hit me once again when little Tyson ran up to me and asked, “Ms. Reagan, when is Mr. Gavin coming back? He said he was gonna teach me how to rap.”
I had to turn away from him to gain my composure before I put a hand on the top of his head and told him, “I’m not sure, honey. But I hope it’s sooner than later.”
&
“You know, Reagan. I’m actually proud of you.”
I was shaking the ice in my almost empty drink back and forth against the glass as I tried to figure out Leilani’s angle. Being at the bar on a Tuesday night wasn’t exactly deserving of a badge of honor, so I was forced to ask, “Proud of me for what?”
She took a sip of her own drink - water - before she answered with a half-hearted smile, “For… showing your face.”
“Showing my face?”
“Yeah. You usually get kind of ugly during break-ups, so I didn’t expect you to like… let me see you. But you did. And you’re out. So it must not be that bad.”
I lifted the glass to my mouth so that I could catch an ice cube, sucking the excess liquor off before I pushed it to my cheek and replied, “Nah. Actually it’s so bad that I was forced to show my face so that it wouldn’t get stuck in a permanent frown.”
Leilani immediately brushed me off with a wave. “Oh whatever, girl. I know you. I’ve seen you. Even with Michael’s triflin’ ass, you were holed up in your apartment for a couple days. So this is different.”
I could only sigh as I tried to come up with an appropriate homegirl explanation. You know you can never give the full story.
“It’s easy to hide and sulk when someone else fucked up. But this one… this one is on me.” Coming to terms with my responsibility in this mess didn’t exactly come easy, but it still happened faster than I expected it to. But now there was a new source of pain as if I was punishing myself by being away from him.
Leilani still wasn’t convinced as she asked with extra attitude, “How? I mean, I saw the pictures. We all saw the pictures. This can’t possibly be your fault.”
I waited a moment to answer so that I could carefully pick my words. “We all saw the pictures, but that doesn’t mean we all saw them the same. My perspective was to see them and automatically jump to the worst conclusion, and obviously that was yours too. But I watched him explain and it made perfect sense, Lei. Like… airtight explanation.” In all honesty, it was actually a little sweet that he had helped Zalayah through her issues.
Still, Leilani wasn’t with it as she tossed out, “Oh bullshit. That’s how it’s supposed to be, Reagan.”
“Nah, Lei. I know Gavin. I can read Gavin almost as well as he reads my ass. And he was being honest, which is why I think he got upset enough to give me an… ultimatum.”
If I can even call it that...
“Wait a minute. So ya’ll didn’t break up?”
I shook my head as I answered, “Not officially; no.”
It was as if a light bulb clicked on in Leilani’s head, her eyes wide as she said, “Well no wonder your ass showed up! This isn’t a sulk in my sorrows night for you. More like, help me get my man back, bitch.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I replied, “Precisely. I mean, I’m not exactly ready to take that leap yet, but some advice would certainly be nice.”
Even though Leilani and I were the same age, her expertise in men came from a different place. While I had pretty much casually dated over the years, Leilani was the one that had been in multiple long-term relationships. And while she may have been avoiding them like a plague as of late, she still had more experience than me.
“Well you know what I always say. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“If it doesn’t… well… I guess you gotta find a new boomerang.”
Gavin
“Bro, why don’t you just call her? You’re not even mad anymore.”
I peeked up from my phone to Caleb who I hadn’t even noticed was there as I was too busy scrolling through Reagan’s Instagram for what had to be the hundredth time. It was the closest I could get to her without giving in, though in all honesty that was exactly what I wanted to do.
“Nah, man. It’s bigger than that. Ball is in her court.”
Caleb settled in on the couch next to me, putting a hand to my shoulder as he said, “Women don’t have balls, bro. Shits never in their court.”
I cracked a little smile - the first in far too long - as I replied, “Well, a change in the game was long overdue.”
I didn’t even feel good about leaving Reagan on the terms that I did. And it wasn’t really my style to be on some argumentative, tough guy shit. But I knew that was the only way I could get it to make sense to Reagan. The fact that I was actually telling the truth, that my career came with a boatload of shit that I couldn’t control, and that regardless of all of that, I really wanted to be with her. It didn’t really even feel like an option for us to be apart as long as we already had, so I was honestly starting to worry myself sick over it.
I mean, what if she really did just… let me go?
Let us go?
“Nah, seriously though, G. I don’t like how you’ve been moping around the studio and shit. You can hear it in your music too. And you know you got that performance coming up in a couple days. You either gotta get her back or shake her off.”
“If only it was that easy, bro,” I sighed, as I fell back into the couch. And he sighed right along with me as if he could feel my uneasiness.
We sat in a comfortable silence for a
while until Caleb tossed out, “You really love her, don’t you?”
I would’ve long been removed from the situation if that wasn’t the case. So I honestly replied, “Only reason why this shit is so hard.”
I could literally hear the excitement in his voice when he asked, “Well what do you do best when you’re feelin’ some type of way?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Write a song about it, I guess.”
“Well… what are you waiting for? Get to writing, G!” he said with a shove that sent me to the arm of the couch.
I let out a shell of a laugh as I said, “Nah, man. I’m not really in the mood to write some new shit.” Now that we were practically done with the album, only going back through to add in ad-libs, the last thing I wanted to do was come up with new content.
But Caleb was right.
Turning my feelings into lyrics had always been a way to relieve my tension. And even if I wrote the shit for my ears only, it would still feel like the perfect dose of medicine to get me through this situation.
“Aww come on, G. Since when aren’t you in the mood to write? That’s why you got in the game in the first place, right?”
I nodded as I answered, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, man.”
Then I snagged my phone from my pocket, pulling up my notes app as I told him, “I’ll see what I can do.”
&
I hadn’t been working on the song for more than a half hour when my phone was ringing in my hand, signaling an incoming call from Mama. I had already told her about the little situation between Reagan and I, and to my surprise she had actually taken Reagan’s side.
“You’re asking a whole lot from that girl. You can’t expect her to get it all right.”
I braced myself before pressing the green button to answer with a, “Hey Mama.”
I waited for a response, but didn’t get one. In fact, I could clearly hear her having a conversation with someone in the background as if she had called me by accident.
But just when I was getting ready to hang up, I heard a familiar voice say, “I don’t know what to do, Ms. Griffin. I mean, I’m doing the right thing by giving him some space, right?”
The Real Deal Page 13
