Unveiled

by Shataya Simms

  “Aren’t you judgmental,” I say slightly offended. “You don’t know the battles the person is fighting within themselves.”

  “Yeah, that’s just a sorry ass excuse. Don’t get me wrong, when I wasn’t breast feeding, Knuck and I still would smoke together…hell, he still smokes but that’s weed. It doesn’t fuck up your head or turn you into a loser like the other drugs.”

  “I’m done talking to you.”

  “Why are you getting upset?” She asks confused. A piece of me wants to confess to Pree that I was one of those losers she’s referring to, but I bite my tongue instead.

  “I wonder what destination Diana is picking this year for our family trip,” I say changing the subject.

  “Who knows? I have to put Kenya down for her nap.”

  “Okay. Bye pretty girl,” I say to Kenya, blowing her a kiss.

  Around 3:30 am, my phone starts vibrating waking me up out of my sleep.

  “Hello,” I answer, wiping the sleep out of my eyes as I stare at Tron FaceTiming me.

  “Babe, I don’t know if you saw but…”

  “I saw, Tarron,” I cut him off.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it like?” I ask.

  “She gave me a lap dance. That’s it.”

  “Tarron, I’m not stupid.”

  “No, no, I swear…it wasn’t like that.”

  “TARRON,” I shout sitting up in bed. “Is that fucking glitter around your mouth?” I snap.

  “What?” He says and attempts to wipe his mouth.

  “You’re fuckin’ disgusting,” I yell hanging up the phone. I ignore the constant back to back calls from him until I finally decide to turn my phone off and go back to sleep.

  The days that follow consists of more nonstop calls and text messages from Tron as I continue to ignore him. The little stripper girl that he disappeared into the backroom with confessed to TMZ that they had sex.

  “The dumb ass didn’t even make her sign a nondisclosure agreement before he hit it,” I shake my head as Dontay and I watch on TV.

  “What a dummy. He’s going to learn the hard way like all young dummy’s do.”

  “You know, I’m not saying that the elders in the game don’t cheat on their wives, but you never hear Snoop, Dre, Cube or any of them getting caught. At least they respect their wives enough to have them huzzies sign a fuckin’ piece of paper.”

  “You really don’t believe him?”

  “He had glitter around his mouth and in his fuckin’ chin hair. Hell no I don’t believe him. I am too old for this shit.”

  “Awww, come here,” Dontay says pulling me into his arms.

  “Niggah’s ain’t shit,” I reply, lying my head on his chest.

  “I’m not even going to disagree with you.”

  My phone starts to vibrate on the coffee table.

  “It’s him,” Dontay says looking at the screen.

  “I don’t care,” I mumble.

  “You’re not gonna cry, are you?” He asks.

  “No,” I whimper with a laugh.

  “What if he comes here?”

  “He won’t. My schedule is so full that we are not even in the same place for more than two nights and he is on tour as well. The travel in between is way too long.”

  My phone buzzes again, alerting that I have a new text message.

  TRON: Ur seriously not gonna talk to me about this? I didn’t do anything. The bitch is lying. Please don’t make me cancel my show just to come grip ur ass up and force u to talk to me.

  “You see this shit, Dontay? All dogs say the same line…That bitch lying. I swear,” I mock in a dude’s voice.

  “Well, maybe he is telling the truth.”

  “I doubt it,” I shrug. “I’m going to go pack.”

  “Alright. I’ll go check on the kids.”

  We make it to South Africa with the internet still causing a stir. The memes of when you catch your niggah cheating would be funny if they weren’t about me.

  “Aneesah, look,” Dontay says as Nore is applying my stage makeup. Dontay shows me an article in OK Magazine where the stripper, whose name is Evelyn Carmichael recanted the events that happened that night stating that she only gave Tron a lap dance. She was caught up in the attention that she was getting from the media and ran with the story that they slept together.

  “Do you believe her?” Dontay and Nore ask in unison.

  “If I gave you five thousand dollars to retract your statement, would you do it?” I ask. They both stare at me blankly not responding. “I thought so.” I stand from my chair to meet up with the kids to stretch before the show.

  “Great show,” Estelle says when I come off stage. She hands me a Gatorade and towel. “Um, Tron’s here,” she whispers.

  “Who let him backstage?” I ask. Estelle points at Big Charlie.

  “You snitch,” he laughs.

  “You lucky I won’t fire your ass,” I snap at him before walking inside my dressing room. Tron is laid out on my couch sleeping. I slam the door.

  “What do you want?” I hiss as he sits up.

  “I just want you to talk to me. She’s lying. Don’t you see that?” He says tossing me the magazine.

  “I saw the article. People will do anything for money.”

  “Tell me about it,” he says with some relief.

  “I’m not talking about the money she took from TMZ, I’m talking about the money she took from you to recant her story.” The look of guilt written on his face tells me everything.

  “Get out,” I snap at him.

  “Aneesah, I didn’t do anything.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then you never trusted me.”

  “What happened then? Why go in the private room?”

  “Nothing. She gave me a dance. I knew I was being recorded and I just wanted to enjoy my night before shit hit the internet. All she did was dance for me.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not. I swear. Hand to God.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I missed my show to be here. Come on,” he whines. I almost want to laugh in his face. We fall silent for a moment.

  “I love you,” he states.

  “That doesn’t mean I am going to allow you to mistreat me. If you are not ready for this, we can just go back to being friends. There’s no pressure to being faithful. You can even get your old thing back,” I say referring to Kai.

  “You don’t love me, do you? Because, if you did, you wouldn’t have suggested some dumb shit like that.”

  “I do love you Tarron but like I said, you’re just now getting a taste of fame. You’re young and coming into your own. Enjoy it. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  “There is nothing for me to enjoy if you’re not with me, Aneesah,” he says humbly.

  “You’re 27. Enjoy being 27.”

  “Please. You already know that I am not going to let you walk away from me.”

  “Let me?”

  “Not like that. I’m not some stalker dude that’s gonna kill you,” he laughs. “I just mean that I am going to put up a fight. I will fight for you. I will slap my favorite person in the mouth just to be with you.”

  I laugh. Fuck. He always makes me laugh when I want to be mad.

  “Come here,” I motion him over to me as his face lights up.

  “I love you,” he says dancing in my face.

  “And I love you back, punk,” I reply kissing him.

  “I have to go,” he says in between our kiss.

  “Yeah, don’t ever cancel a show again. Business before emotions. You are still trying to build your brand.”

  “Fuck my brand. I had to get my heart back,” he smiles.

  “Whatever. If you take my jet, can you extend your trip?”

  “Only for an hour. I gotta show in Missouri tomorrow night.”

  “That’s all we need,” I tell him taking off my costume.

  Tron and I are good, damn near pe
rfect. He’s even been staying with me in New York when I’m home. I give him all my passcodes and security clearance, allowing him to crash there when I’m not in town. He’s either truly being faithful to me or he has gotten smart and having these women sign confidentiality forms. Although I still am getting a lot of flak on social media, I just let my fans do all the clap back for me. These internet trolls are annoying as hell, but Larry and my PR people think that this is the best type of free marketing. Like the old saying goes, bad press is better than no press. It was all good until Heather B opened her fuckin’ mouth again to the point where I want to whip her ass. After killing it at the Billboard awards, beating out Heather in every category, her bitter ass went on a twitter rant.

  @therealheatherb…well, I guess if I were fukn my so called dad, I would be at the top too

  @therealheatherb…I wonder who KJ paid off for her to get accolades that she doesnt deserve

  @therealheatherb…come on. I’m not the only one who thinks it.

  @therealtheatherb…I worked hard for everything I have & sum ppl just need to know the right ppl to get a deal

  @therealheatherb…or suck the right (eggplant emoji)

  @therealheatherb…her & KJ always had a shady relationship anyway

  @therealheatherb…I ain’t even mad. She likes them young & old. Both men keep her relevant

  “Hello,” I answer my phone for Mr. J. I’m currently in Utah, smoking a joint and trying to calm my nerves before I catch a body with Heather B being the victim in the bag.

  “Have you seen the latest?”

  “Yup,” I reply pissed off.

  “Don’t retaliate. Be graceful.”

  “I wasn’t. I’m calm. This shit is disgusting though.”

  “I know. She’s just bitter,” he chuckles.

  “Why are you so calm? What are you up to?”

  “Well, she owes me one more album. I guess I can extend that for five years or so. Make sure her ass isn’t relevant. She won’t be able to work or make music within that time frame.”

  “That’s cold,” I laugh.

  “Never bite the hand that feeds you. She turned business into personal. I just called you to tell you not to respond. That’s all.”

  “I won’t. I’m pissed off, but I won’t.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye,” I hang up with Mr. J.

  By the end of the week, Heather is in a twitter war all by herself. Not only is she continuing to throw jabs at me, she is also throwing jabs at Mr. J, her management team and the music industry as a whole. She is really digging her own grave, starting her own hashtag trend #freeheatherb which is another dig at Mr. J for not letting her out of her contract. She’s a moron.

  “Hey,” I answer the phone for Tron.

  “Damn. You got that girl losing her damn mind,” he laughs.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure if I feel bad for her or not.”

  “Why would you feel bad? She did it to herself.”

  “I know but…I don’t know. I never want to be the reason for someone’s downfall,” I laugh.

  “She was good until she went after KJ and the music industry. That’s where she fucked up at. Ain’t nobody gonna even attempt to buy her out of KJ’s contract.”

  “I don’t want to talk about her. She has been a pain in my ass since we were teens.”

  “I forgot y’all are old as shit,” he chuckles.

  “Shut up,” I laugh. “What you doing?”

  “At your place cleaning up. Had a couple of people over.”

  “Tarron.”

  “Relax. We just played spades and smoked all night. Wasn’t even like that.”

  “Yeah, okay. I told you I didn’t want people in my place when I’m not there. I don’t fuck with them like that and I don’t need people taking pictures of my shit and posting them.”

  “Aneesah…trust me, please. Shit,” he says annoyed.

  “Whatever,” I shake my head.

  “Tell me something I want to hear.”

  “I’m mad at you.”

  “What else is new?” He laughs. “Now tell me something I want to hear.”

  “I love you,” I mumble.

  “You better,” he laughs.

  We talk for the remainder of the night, falling asleep on the phone together.

  I’m still in my hotel room in Utah preparing a speech for a charity event. I walk over to the wine fridge and remove a bottle to have a glass. I pour a tall glass while surfing my private Instagram; the one that only few people know about. I double heart all over my nieces’ and nephew’s photos before logging on to my fan page. The third photo on my timeline is of Tron, lying on his stomach sleeping. It looks like my bed. I’m pretty sure it’s my bed but I did not take the photo and the bigger question is, who the fuck took the photo and posted it on his page? Livid, I pick up the phone to dial his number. As the phone is ringing, there is a knock at my door.

  “Answer your fuckin’ phone,” I snap into his voicemail while yanking my door open.

  “Miss me?” Tron says stepping inside.

  “What the fuck is this?” I ask showing him the photo.

  “A picture of me sleeping,” he says shrugging his shoulders. “Why are you upset?”

  “Because who took the fuckin’ picture, Tarron?”

  “You did. I was freeing up space in my phone and decided to post the picture before deleting it.”

  “I did not take this.”

  “You did, Aneesah. You just don’t remember.”

  Silence.

  “It’s an old picture, Aneesah. It’s morning in the photo. Look. I posted it when I landed. I’m here with you and it’s not even 12 o’clock yet. How or who in the hell is going to post it?”

  I still don’t respond because the story is suspect as hell.

  “I don’t want anybody in my house when I’m not there.”

  “Okay. Can I have a hug or something? I did come all this way just to be with you.”

  “I think you’re lying Tarron and when I find out…”

  “You’re not going to find out anything because I’m not hiding anything,” he says pulling me into his arms.

  Chapter Fifteen

  July 2017

  I am finally done touring overseas. Now that I am back home in the states for good with some downtime in between shows, I tag along with Tron on some of his tour stops but when Tajee and Maliah start complaining about me not coming to see them, I leave Tron behind to spend time with the kids. I even find time to squeeze in a trip to Florida to see Jalena who is finally pregnant with her first child.

  Dontay and Dani are still staying with me at my house in Jersey. Dani has her moments though. She manages to go a few days just relaxing and chilling with me, not doing any type of drug and then vanishes out of nowhere, looking for her fix. I can’t stop her from getting high even though I desperately try. I get so worked up and worried about her that I end up putting one of those tracking device thingy’s in her phone. I continue to talk to her father at least once a week to give him updates on his only child and every time I speak with him, I can feel his pain and frustration through the phone.

  After weeks of rehearsal with Tron, we are finally about to make our performance debut at Made in America. We are currently backstage getting ready for the show.

  “Hey love. You nervous?” I ask, giving him a kiss.

  “Of course,” he smirks pulling me into his lap. “You?”

  “I’m always nervous before I perform,” I smile. He kisses my cheek.

  “You got this. I watched you perform over a dozen times and you always give me a hard-on,” he laughs, putting my hand on the crotch of his pants. I snatch my hand away.

  “Pervert,” I giggle.

  “So what Prince song are you singing tonight?” Tron asks. I always incorporate some sort of Prince Tribute into my show since he is one of my idols.

  “The Beautiful Ones. I’m gonna close my set with it.”

&n
bsp; “The beautiful ones, they hurt you every time…” Tron sings in my ear.

  “I love you boy,” I giggle.

  “You better because I love you back,” he replies kissing me on my cheek.

  “This is the first time we are sharing the stage together. I’ll try not to show you up,” I smile.

  “Please. My stage presence is always on point.”

  “It better be because I’m about to kill it and you go on two slots after me.”

  “You just hit the notes when you come out to sing and don’t run out on me like you did the day we recorded the song.”

  “Shut up,” I laugh, thinking about that day. The day I knew that this young-boi had me.

  “Luckily, we don’t go on until later tonight after the sun goes down. It’s hot as shit out there.”

  “Yeah, heat wave but it’s supposed to rain. Hopefully it rains after our performance.”

  “Would be nice. Babe, lift up. I gotta take this call,” he says as I slide out of his lap.

  I walk to the entrance of the stage to watch J. Cole do his thing. I’m minding my business, enjoying the show when I feel little hands wrapping around my legs.

  “RAAAA,” it screams.

  “Hey buddy,” I say to Taj picking him up.

  “I’m getting too big for you to be picking me up Sha-Sha,” he says wiggling out of my arms. “I’m a whole hand now,” he tells me holding up his five fingers.

  “You’re right. A whole five,” I giggle. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Talkin’ to daddy,” he says pointing. I spot Pree across the tent and it looks as though her and Knuck are in a heated argument.

  “Don’t forget to put these on Taj,” I say to him handing him a pair of ear muffs to cancel out some of the noise.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Pree taking Kenya out of her arms.

  “This dumb ass got me pregnant,” Pree snaps.

  “And that’s bad because…” I question while Knuck looks defeated.

  “Because our daughter just turned one and I’m pregnant again,” she says coldly.

  “So much for it taking two to get pregnant,” Knuck mumbles.

  “It’s called withdraw, niggah,” Pree snaps. It’s taking everything in me not to laugh at this petty ass argument.