Because niggah you ain’t got the answers… you ain’t got the answers… you ain’t got the answers
BITCH
I’m on my Kanye, that means I fucks wit’ me heavy
Cocky niggah, Rock star
Middle finger to the cop cars
We the best, not y’all
Onsight when we spot y’all
Case open, locks off
Girl wit’ me, lock jaw
Summertime, top off with the chain on and the lights off
Need a verse? Then it’s gonna cost…
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! THAT’S FUCKIN’ BOMB,” I yell stopping the music.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU DOIN’? YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME LOSE IT,” he spazzes, realizing that I interrupted his creative flow. I hurry up and press play and listen to him finish destroying the beat with his lyrics. I watch him in his element. He’s different—in a lane of his own and I am completely smitten by him and his artistry.
After that day at the studio, Tron and I haven’t seen each other since however, we have been texting and talking to each other non-stop. We talk about business and since I’m a vet in this game, I try to school him on the ins and outs of the industry to make sure he has real staying power. We stay bouncing ideas off each other and feed each other creatively.
I’m scrolling through Instagram when I stumble on a photo of Tron and his girlfriend Kai. I double heart it and keep scrolling until I fall on another photo of him in my feed with his shirt off; chest sculpted with lean muscle and a black beaded necklace with a cross hanging against his cinnamon skin.
“This niggah,” I laugh before giving it a double heart. “Hold the fuck up. I know…Rita?” I question when I see my mother’s little comment of Looking Good with the emoji guy with the hearts in his eyes. His response; Thank you Miss Trinidad LOL tongue emoji.
“What the fuck?” I dial Rita’s number.
“Hey sweetie,” she greets.
“Ummm…so are you a lioness now?” I laugh into the phone.
“Huh?”
“I saw your little comment on Tron’s photo.”
“Oh,” she giggles like a school girl.
“MOM.”
“What? He can get it.”
“Rita Alma Day,” I laugh in shock.
“I’m just joking. I met him a couple of weeks ago at one of the events that Kevin was having. He’s a nice kid and if I wasn’t married…”
“I can’t believe you,” I giggle.
“I’m not dead, Aneesah. I can look, can’t I?”
“Not when you’re lusting over one of my friends. That’s gross.”
“You should make him my son-in-law.”
“No thank you. I would always have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t try to steal my man,” I laugh. She joins in my laughter.
“How are things with the tour?”
“They’re going well. I’m exhausted though.”
“I know you are, between that and filming a movie. I’m proud of you though,” she says sweetly.
“Thanks mom. How’s my dog?”
“Still sweet as can be…yes you are,” she says in a baby voice.
“I take that he’s right there with you.”
“Yeah. About to take him for a walk.”
“Okay. I’ll see you guys soon. Love you.”
“Love you too,” she says hanging up. I check my phone and see that I have a text message from Tron.
TRON: So u kno ur low key genius right
ME: What u talkn about
TRON: The edited track you sent. It’s dope AF.
ME: Y thank u my friend. They dnt pay me these big checks for nothing LOL. Sike-naw—blush @ calling me a genius bc that’s what I think about you…Oh shit. Did I just send that?
TRON: U complement my genius tho. Ur like ½ of my creative mind.
ME: Yeah…yeah…yeah…tell me anything
ME: Aye. What up wit u flirtin’ wit my mom? (angry face emoji)
TRON: LMAO…I mean, I met her at the gala jawn last weekend. U ain’t tell me yo mama got a fat ass. She def can get it.
ME: We ain’t friends no mo’. Lose my number and I will invoice you my bill.
TRON: Awww…dnt b like dat. U will always be my favorite.
ME: Whateva
TRON: Anyway, I sent ur punk ass some files. A video concept I’m working on. Let me kno what u think
I view Tron’s files, taking notes along the way. I get ready for bed not looking forward to catching this flight and train into London tomorrow.
We leave the hotel early in the AM to move onto the next city. The kids are getting restless; I can tell but they are being professional and keeping their complaints away from me or at least out of ear shot. I still am keeping my eye on Destiny and Kyle’s ass and have one of my security guards, Rock, chaperoning without them noticing.
You look tired, Serge signs. We are currently on the train traveling to London.
“A little,” I respond.
I personally feel that you are taking on too much. You look exhausted.
I smile.
“I’m okay. This is what we do, right?”
You still talk to Tarron? I like him, Serge smiles.
“Stop being in my business, Serge,” I laugh. “We’re just friends.”
Serge gives me a funny look before opening his book. My phone buzzes and it’s Tajee texting me, showing me a picture of his drum set that Mr. J bought him.
ME: So cool man. U gotta teach ShaSha next time I see u
TAJ: I will ShaSha. Do u mis me bc I mis u
ME: Mis=miss and of course I miss you. Ur ShaSha’s heart.
TRON: Yo. Did u view the files…Tron’s texts comes through interrupting me and Taj’s conversation.
ME: Yeah. Who do u think u is? Stop tryin to be better than me (laughing emoji).
ME: It means I LOVE it.
TRON: HAAAAAAAAAAA…I’m tryin to b like u when I grow up wit ur old ass.
ME: Screw u asshole
TRON: Only if u want to
ME: What?
TRON: Nutn. U be an airhead sometimes. LOL
ME: Shut up
TRON: So what’s ur take on what I sent
ME: I just emailed u my thoughts
TRON: Cool. I’m gonna read thru ‘em. I’ll holla at u when I’m done
TAJ: I love u ShaSha
ME: Love u too baby. (kissy face emoji) I’ll call u later
TRON: SO u lovin’ a niggah now? Damn dats whats up. I didn’t even have to give up the (eggplant emoji; laughing face)
ME: Shut up dork. That text was for my nephew
TRON: Uh-huh. U startin’ to fall in love wit meeee
TRON: What are you doing?
ME: Nutn. On the train tryin to pack the rest of my shit. We gotta dip off to Moscow right after
TRON: Cool. I wanna come
ME: Sure. I can pack u in my luggage. Ur little ass is small enough to fit
TRON: Yeah but I gotta big (eggplant emoji) tho
ME: Yeah…yeah. That’s what they all say
TRON: I might bless u wit it one day
ME: Bye boy
Chapter Eleven
It’s early August and I’m in New York working on Lena. I will be happy when the film is a wrap. This year has been exhausting between touring, staying relevant with my music and filming a movie. I can’t wait until it’s all over and can return to normalcy for a second.
I am on set taking a mini break texting back and forth with Tron, teasing him about his relationship with Kai.
ME: I don’t see what the big deal is. If u love her then tell her. LOL
TRON: Y u always jumpn the gun? Ain’t nobody say nutn about love
ME: Y u be so mum when I bring her up
TRON: Cuz my biz wit her is just that, my biz
ME: Whateva punk. I was just sayin that I like the new photos. Ur the one being all overly dramatic
TRON: So you in or what?—he texts, ignoring what I
just said. He wants me to produce this new track he has. I think about it for a moment.
ME: Yeah. I guess so.
TRON: I need to work wit u on this. Where u at
ME: New York. u can stop by my place this evening if u want. I have a little studio setup there. I’ll text you the address.
TRON: Cool
ME: Don’t forget to bring ur ID so u can get clearance by the front desk.
You’re smiling. Your face lights up every time you speak with him. Serge signs.
“Shut-up, Serge,” I laugh. I am called on to the set to finish up my scenes.
Later that night, I’m chillin’ in my penthouse going over some music and waiting for Tron to arrive. The doorbell chimes and I jump up to open the door for him.
“What up?” He greets, with a hug.
“Nothing. You ready to work?” I ask.
“You know this but check it,” he says pulling out a bag of weed.
“Damn, son. Where you get this from?” I ask, smelling the goody. He smiles.
“You wanna roll up or get right to work first?”
“Roll it,” I squeal, bouncing over to the couch.
“This place is huge, Aneesah,” he says looking around.
“I’ll give you a tour later but listen to this,” I tell him pulling out my notebook and singing the hook to one of his songs.
“I like it. You gotta bring your voice up a notch at this part though,” he advises, underlining the lyrics in my notebook.
“You should change up the wording right here. Get a little freakier with it,” I tell him, drawing a circle around some of his lyrics.
“I can do that.” His phone goes off. “Excuse me for a second,” he says handing me the rolled blunt. “What’s up, babe?” He answers, FaceTiming Kai. I spark the blunt and inhale the smoke. I must have hit it too hard because my ass starts to choke. I look at the blunt like it’s foreign while hitting my chest. Tron laughs.
“Why the fuck you lookin’ at the blunt like it’s the weeds fault?” He laughs.
“Shut up, niggah,” I laugh in between coughs.
“Who are you talking to?” I hear Kai’s voice.
“Aneesah. I told you I had a session tonight.”
“You sure seem to like hanging out with her,” she huffs as my eyes balloon.
“She can hear you. FaceTime, remember?” Tron says. Kai is quiet.
“Hi Kai,” I yell out. Tron makes a face at me which makes me bust out laughing.
“Hello Aneesah.”
“Babe, I’m going to get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. Make sure you call me as soon as you leave your session. I’m not playing with you either, Tarron,” she snaps.
“I got you.”
“I love you,” she replies sweetly. He blows her a kiss before hanging up.
“Why you didn’t say it back?” I ask, passing him the blunt.
“Why you always up in my business?”
“Because. Everybody wants to know about KAION,” I laugh, calling him by the name the media gave them.
“I hate that shit,” he laughs, passing me the blunt back. We smoke while bouncing ideas and video concepts around.
“Yoooo,” I laugh, side effects of the weed. “I got the fuckin’ munchies.”
“Yeah, me too,” he chuckles.
“I want some fried chicken. Yum, yum, yum,” I say while patting my stomach.
“You’re so stoopid. Come on. Let’s make a run.”
“Where we goin’?” I ask. “And I’m on a diet.”
“What the fuck you on a diet for?” He asks looking at me like I just committed a sin.
“Well for starters, Miss Horne is like a size two so I gotta maintain.”
“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m about to hit Popeye’s up for some chicken and biscuits.”
“Fuck it,” I shrug, making a mental note to buy some damn laxatives for nights like this when I want to pig out. I throw on my shoes and follow Tron to his blacked-out Dodge Challenger.
“This is what you drive?” I ask.
“I’m a simple guy,” he replies.
“There is nothing simple about this car Vin Diesel,” I laugh as he merges into the New York traffic.
“I’m gettin’ me some wings, fries, and some biscuits with gravy. Oh, and some mash potatoes.”
“You high as shit,” he chuckles, turning on the radio.
“Oh shit. This is the song,” I yell, turning up the volume to Bell, Biv, DeVoe’s “Poison”. I start singing the lyrics as Tron joins in.
“It’s driving me out of my mind…that’s why it’s hard for me to find…can’t get it out of my head…miss her, kiss her, love her…that girl is poisonnnnn…”
“Okay. I hear you,” I laugh at Tron. “You got a little something in your voice.”
“Girl, you don’t even know? I can sing you out of your panties,” he laughs.
“I heard you sing on “Thing Ima Do”. It was nothing special, homie.”
“Nah, baby. That was me singing but I wasn’t singing.”
“Yeah…okay. Let me hear you sing then.”
“Nah. I can’t do that.”
“Why not? You scared?”
“No. I’m just not ready for you to fall in love with me yet,” he smirks.
“Whatever,” I suck my teeth.
“I’m serious. You’re not gonna be able to handle it.”
“Please. Your young ass probably can’t even eat pussy right,” I laugh. We pull in line at the drive window and Tron turns to face me.
“Girl, I can make you cum without sticking my dick or flicking my tongue at you,” he smiles.
“How so?”
“Foot massage.”
“Huh?”
“My Pops has this Asian lady that comes to the farm to trade goods. There are pressure points in your feet and if you hit them right…” he smirks.
“And you know this how?”
He winks his eye.
“And if I don’t get you with a foot massage, me singing to you will make your pussy explode,” he laughs.
“Try me.”
“Nah. Only special people get that treatment. You gotta wait your turn and earn ya stripes.”
“You’re an ass,” I laugh as we pull up to the drive thru speaker.
***
I am back on the set of Lena taking a break.
TRON: Yo shawty. We made magic last night--Tron’s text message comes through.
ME: Yeah young-buck. Ur next CD is gonna be (fire emoji)
TRON: I hope so. We just gotta finish the last song and then curtains
ME: Yup. I’m actually goin home to my house n Jersey after today. U can meet me there Sunday afternoon & we can finish up. U can record there too. I have an in-home studio
TRON: Yo, I’m really tryin to b like u when I grow up. LOL
TRON: At least have the money stacks u got
ME: LOL. B careful what u wish 4. Money isn’t everythin
TRON: Thanks Aneesah. I owe you a lot
ME: It’s cool. Maybe one day you’ll sing to me
TRON: I told you, u aint ready
ME: Whatever. I’m not gonna lie tho, I’m mad curious now
TRON: One day, I’ll serenade u
ME: LOL…anyway. I have to get back on set. TTYL
You’re smiling again, Serge signs.
“Leave me alone, Serge,” I smile.
You mind if I step away?
“Sure. I’ll call you when I’m done,” I tell him as he disappears off the set.
“Hey pumpkin,” Mr. J greets me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask with a mega-watt smile, giving him a hug.
“There is a summit that I’m part of. I figured I’d stop by to see you before heading over.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“The movie is looking good; real good. I think this is going to be Oscar worthy.”
“You think so?” I ask in disbelie
f.
“Most definitely,” he smiles. I am called to the set.
“Stick around. Love you.” I give Mr. J a hug before walking over to film the next scene.
I’m in the middle of doing my scene when Mr. J steps up to the director and whispers in his ear.
“Okay everyone, let’s take a break,” he shouts. “Aneesah,” the director motions to me.
“What’s up?”
“Serge has been in a motorcycle accident,” Mr. J states.
“Is it serious?” I ask.
“The car is waiting for us,” Mr. J answers rushing off. I quickly run to my trailer to change my clothes.
“I was in such a rush, I can’t seem to find my phone. We have to call his family,” I tell Mr. J climbing in the car.
“Here, use my phone,” he says handing it to me.
“Thanks. What’s the number?”
“I don’t know. I figured you would have it.”
“Why would I have it? I don’t have his emergency contact information,” I tell Mr. J.
“Well, neither do I.”
“Doesn’t he have emergency contact information or something in his files?”
“How would I know? You’re the one who hired him.”
“I didn’t hire Serge. You did.” We silently stare at each other in confusion.
“Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” I ask.
“No. I promise you that neither I nor my staff hired him. This whole time I was under the impression that you did.”
“So, a stranger has been protecting me this whole time and nobody knows where he came from?”
Unveiled Page 17
