Dirty little secrets

by Deja King

  “Yeah, that’s true, but there are also a lot of beautiful women with a lot of talent on the same mission as you.” It hadn’t dawned on me that there were a million other girls running around thinking the exact same thing. I knew there would always be girls who were prettier and more talented, but Mother had instilled in me that I was special and I felt like I was born to be a star. I just had to focus and pursue my dream to the fullest extent. But I hadn’t figured out how I should go about making it happen, and so I was grabbing in the dark.

  One day on my way to an audition I came across a flyer about a hot new label, Get Money Records. I remembered when I was in Georgia and was in awe of a guy named T-Roc, who I saw in a music video. He was sexy, and Lisa laughed at me when I told her one day I’d be in his bed. Now here I was in his city, looking at a flyer about his new label. I truly believe that if you visualize something, want something, and put that energy out there, that whatever your heart desires will come true. What you’re yearning for may not come to you in the exact way you envisioned but it will be obtained. This was no different. That is why you must be careful about what you want and try to reserve your energy for something positive and productive. It took me many years to finally understand that.

  After a delicious lunch with Ella at the Pink Tea Cup, I felt energized. Not only did she pay for the fried chicken and pancakes I devoured, but she also gave me a week’s worth of subway tokens, which I desperately needed. I was strolling down the street counting my blessings on the way to an audition, and to my surprise, the street happened to be the same block where T-Roc’s office was located. One of his many workers was standing outside.

  “What’s up cutie? What’s your name?” the ultra iced-out guy said.

  “Tyler,” I sneered, continuing to prance by.

  “My name’s Jason; I work at Get Money Records.” My antennae instantly went up because I knew that was the label T-Roc owned, and I stopped in my tracks.

  “I just moved to New York, so I don’t know anything about record labels,” I lied, not wanting him to think I was impressed.

  “Well, that’s okay; you hang with me and maybe you can learn how to run one,” he said with an I’m-so-sure-of-myself laugh. “I have an idea. There’s a private party tonight where you can get your first taste of the music industry. How ’bout it?”

  “Sure,” I said calmly. I gave Jason my phone number, and he said he would call around seven. As I strolled down Twenty-third Street and Seventh Avenue, all sorts of possibilities were flashing in my mind. Would I actually see—or better yet meet— T-Roc even though I’d been in NYC for only two months? Could I be that lucky? By the time I reached home, Jason had left a message. I called him back, and he said he would pick me up in an hour.

  I was elated about the possibility of meeting my crush, but at the same time I was extremely nervous. I didn’t know what to wear, so I played it safe and went with a simple pair of tight black pants and a cream top. Then I dabbed on my favorite Mac lip gloss, “Oh Baby,” and headed out the door.

  Jason pulled up in a white Range Rover with dark tinted windows and chromed-out rims. Before I even got comfortable in the car, he said, “We have to make a stop on our way to the party.” I didn’t ask any questions about where the party was or what it was for. Instead I chose to stay quiet and go with the flow. It’s always been my philosophy that when you are around people you don’t know, it’s better to remain silent and observe.

  To my delight we met up with T-Roc and his friends to head to the private affair. Just like that, I was on the red carpet with paparazzi taking T-Roc’s picture. He was a huge star and basked in all the attention. He was the hip-hop king of New York. Everyone wanted a piece of him, and I was caught up. I couldn’t conceive that this man I had seen in heavy rotation on BET and MTV and doing interviews for Entertainment Tonight was actually just a few feet away from me and we were going into the same party. Little old me, Tyler Blake from Georgia, was in the mix and about to rub shoulders with the movers and shakers of the hip-hop industry.

  The event coordinators escorted T-Roc’s large entourage into the VIP section, and the next thing I knew they were popping bottles and I was drinking Cristal. Yes, I had had champagne a million and one times before, but it was never like this. Eyeballing the room, I felt out of my element. All the women seemed glamorous and different from the ones I was used to back home. With my simple black pants, cream shirt, and curly bob, I didn’t fit in with these chic ladies. But in the scheme of things it didn’t matter, because I was in touching distance of the man I’d always wanted to meet.

  That night I partied, had a couple glasses of champagne, and began living out one of my dreams. Those days back in Georgia, partying with my girlfriends and thinking we were whooping it up, was no comparison to how the rich and famous partied. Arriving home at the crack of dawn, I kept replaying every moment of that night and feeling butterflies in my stomach. It had been the most fun ever, and I wanted to savor every moment. Although T-Roc hadn’t even noticed me, I was overjoyed by the whole experience. There were many other celebrities there too, and all of them looked much shorter and thinner in person, which was a little shocking but exciting all the same.

  The next day to my surprise Jason called. “What’s up, Georgia Peach?” I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon, and I was elated he called.

  “Nothing much; I had a blast last night.”

  “Cool. Does that mean you’re up to doing it again tonight?”

  “Of course,” I said, knowing good and well I needed to study for an English exam.

  “What you doing right now? How would you like to come by the label and see for yourself how Get Money Records is bringing in the millions?”

  “That would be great ’cause I’ve never been inside a record label before.” This was all new to me. Plus I’d take any opportunity to meet T-Roc. Working with what I had, I selected a pair of low-rise jeans and a cropped turtleneck revealing my toned stomach.

  Jason picked me up and we headed over to the label. No matter how much I wanted to scream with enthusiasm, acting laid-back was—and still is—one of my strengths. When I walked through Get Money’s doors, the atmosphere seemed hectic and fast-paced. The energy was strong, and everyone that was working at the label was about the hustle and bustle. There was something alluring about the chaotic atmosphere, and I understood why so many people—including me—wanted to be part of that world. Jason told me to have a seat and said he would be right back to show me around.

  As I sat there watching people running back and forth like they were developing a cure for some life-threatening disease, I heard someone say, “I’m T-Roc; what’s your name?”

  T-Roc reached out to shake my hand, and I tried to remain calm so he wouldn’t see the stars in my eyes. But inside, my heart was pounding so hard that I thought the building would start shaking. Gazing into T-Roc’s persuasive eyes, I knew I was in deep infatuation. I had had enough experience to know it certainly wasn’t love, but it was the best type of infatuation I had ever encountered.

  “Hi, I’m Tyler.” I remained cool, thinking he would then walk away, but instead he began flirting with me.

  “Tyler. That’s a pretty name for a very pretty girl.” This was better than any Barbie story I had ever made up.

  “Are you coming out with us again tonight?” I realized he had noticed me the night before, which made me feel like a gold medalist.

  I innocently said, “If you would like me to.”

  Later that night, I was at it again, partying with the hip and stylish, taking note that I simply had to invest in a New York–chic wardrobe. In Georgia I was in style and used to being the center of attention. Here I stood out like a sore thumb. But it wasn’t the time to dwell on that, because I was simply having too much fun. They were playing “Hate Me Now” by Nas, and T-Roc grabbed me by my waist and escorted me to the dance floor. He was grinding against me from behind with his face against the side of my cheek, and the essence of
his cologne had me caught in his rapture. Up until that moment, I wasn’t sure T-Roc was attracted to me.

  Although I felt cute, my confidence was a little low. Here I was, in a new city, at these industry parties, surrounded by women who looked like they had just stepped out of InStyle. Everywhere I turned there were beautiful women, but T-Roc was dancing with me. I felt special because I was dancing with the man that every other girl wanted. Why wouldn’t they? Not only was T-Roc on top of his game businesswise, but he was also a very clean-cut, sharp-looking guy. Nobody possessed his style, and his star presence was undeniable.

  “How about you come home with me after the party?” T-Roc whispered in my ear before turning me around so we were face-to-face. It took all my strength to resist his offer, but I knew what would happen and I wasn’t quite ready yet.

  “I want to but I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?” he asked. His arms were still around me.

  “I really have to study. I have an English test coming up, and if I don’t pass it, I might fail the class.” T-Roc gave me a bizarre look, like “Bitch, you can’t be serious,” but I was. No, I wasn’t going to fail the class over this test, but I had to say something to get out of going home with him.

  “I tell you what, pretty girl; you take your test, and I’ll catch you the next time around.” As T-Roc let go of my waist and left me standing on the dance floor, I felt my prom king had left his queen.

  I lay in bed dreaming about how it would be for T-Roc to make love to me. It had been months since I had been intimate with someone, and wouldn’t it be the icing on the cake if my next man was T-Roc?

  A couple of days passed, and I didn’t hear from Jason. I was a tad disappointed, but at the same time I needed to concentrate on school. Once again I wasn’t focusing. More and more I was thinking that school wasn’t for me. But until I found something more productive, I figured I needed to stick it out. Tired of calling my parents for money every other week, I decided I needed a job. There was a restaurant right down the street from me looking for a part-time waitress, and I jumped on the opportunity. I put down a bunch of bogus prior waitressing experience, but they obviously didn’t check to see if it was true. To my delight I got the job. Once I was hired, a young woman named Chrissie was assigned to train me. She was a cute petite white woman who put me in mind of a younger version of Sarah Jessica Parker. To my surprise, Chrissie also attended NYU. We instantly clicked, and I finally had my first girlfriend in New York.

  During one of my rare moments of studying, Jason phoned to say that he was on his way to pick me up. That was fine by me; I was more than happy to close my English book and take an extended break. I hoped my mogul had told Jason that he wanted to see me because the last time I saw T-Roc he seemed a little put off that I declined his invitation to his crib. I’m sure he hadn’t gotten that type of brush-off often.

  Jason and I went to the label, where I sat for a while without T-Roc saying two words to me. He was busy running a label, and I started to wonder what I was doing there. It was amazing to see him at work because he was a very hands-on type of guy and an extreme perfectionist. When something didn’t go exactly the way he wanted, he had no qualms about having a tantrum right in front of everybody. After two hours of no one saying a word to me, Jason emerged. “Are you hungry?”

  “A little bit.” Actually I was starving, but that was too much information.

  “Cool, we’re going to pick up some food and stop by my friend’s house to chill for a while.” Cool was Jason’s favorite word, I thought to myself.

  My mind was made up. If I was presented with another invitation by T-Roc, I would not decline. I had a strong inkling that he was the friend Jason was talking about. We stopped at a soul food restaurant called the Shark Bar, Jason picked up the food he had ordered, and a short time later we pulled up to a brownstone in the city. I took a quick look around the quaint neighborhood while Jason rang the doorbell. I was bubbling over on the inside when T-Roc answered the door. He greeted me with a sly smile and said, “Hello, Tyler. How did you do on your English test?” His question threw me off balance, but I quickly regained my composure.

  “It went great;” I said shyly, and gave a smile. On the outside, the building looked historic and old-fashioned. On the inside it was all high-tech and ultramodern. Here I was, sitting and eating barbecued salmon, yams, and rice with my crush. It was too good to be true. The three of us were laughing, joking, and enjoying the delicious food. After a couple of hours Jason said he had to run an errand. That was fine with me, because I could finally have some alone time with T-Roc.

  “Tyler, what school do you attend? Not high school, I hope.” I tried to get a read on T-Roc’s face because I couldn’t tell if he was serious or playing.

  “NYU.”

  “What’s your major?”

  “Journalism.”

  “Oh, you look very young; how old are you?”

  “Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen later this year,” I said eagerly, not wanting to seem so young.

  “Don’t rush it, pretty girl. There will come a time when you’ll be wishing you could push your age back, not forward.” As T-Roc talked, my mind began drifting off, thinking about the hundreds of cute girls he had conquered and the many more who would follow me, But you know what? I didn’t give a shit. I couldn’t have cared less. When I wanted something, that is what I wanted—no ands, ifs, or buts about it! At this moment in my life, I wanted to know what it felt like to make love to T-Roc. I didn’t care if it turned out to be a one-night stand, because personally I thought that would be more romantic. This guy was a known ladies’ man, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe I could change him or that I would be “the one.” Every girl he slept with was probably trying to lock him down, so I figured I’d do one better and treat him as a casual sexual encounter. This was about me fulfilling yet another one of my fantasies, no more and no less.

  We began kissing, and I started feeling myself getting aroused. “Tyler, how about we go upstairs where we can get comfortable?” T-Roc took my hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom where a huge plush bed awaited us.

  Leaning back on his bed, he said, “I want to watch you undress.” My mind began racing, and the shy, insecure, and self-conscious side of me took a seat as the other side—the bitchy, fiery, and confident side—showed its face. I gave him a look that said, Oh please, I’m not taking off my clothes for you. All these episodes in my life are like movies to me, and I’ve created scripts that have to be exciting and fun. I knew sleeping with him was going to happen, but I couldn’t let him think that he would just snap his fingers and my clothes would fall off. I had to make him believe that he had somewhat coerced me.

  “No, baby, I don’t think so. This isn’t Scores, and I’m no stripper.”

  “Pretty girl, I just want to see you naked. Please.” I did have on a soft pink Natori bra and panty set that I wanted him to view. If I wasn’t comfortable with anything else, I pretty much always liked my figure and enjoyed showing it off in cute under-garments. I didn’t want to seem too eager to please, though, and this was my script, so I needed to start setting the pace. In my mind I was telling T-Roc to back it up, buddy, I’m running this show. I sauntered over to the bed and began kissing him again. His lips were so soft and his skin so smooth. He was being very gentle with me and taking his time letting me explore his body. He led my hand down to his hardness so I could feel how aroused he was. His hands were slowly moving up my skirt, and he began gently squeezing the flesh of my thighs and buttocks. He got anxious and started to unbutton his pants and tried to push my head down to give him a professional.

  Now I might do a lot of things, but I was not about to give him head. That performance is strictly executed for my man, and he definitely wasn’t that. Some women prefer to give a professional over sex, but I think that it is way too personal and should only be shared with a select few.

  “Nah, that’s not happening, T-Roc. I don’t know you like that to be
giving you head.” After a little back and forth, he finally accepted that it wasn’t going to happen, and we moved on to taking off our clothes and making love. T-Roc made love with the same passion and intensity he had in his professional life. He was a good lover, and the experience was pleasurable.

  Once he reached his climax I could close this chapter. It was like wanting something and getting it, and then being done with it; because most of the time it’s never what you think it’s all cracked up to be. This sexual encounter with my crush was no different. I got up and began putting on my clothes because I was ready to go. I never like to sit around and engage in small talk after having sex with someone unless it’s my man.

  “Where you trying to run off to?” T-Roc asked with irritation in his voice.

  “I’m sure Jason is coming back soon, and I want to be ready when he gets here.”

  “You want to be ready for what? To leave?” He seemed surprised and offended by my suggestion that it was time to go.

  “Well, aren’t we finished here? You got yours and I somewhat got mine; what’s left for us to do? Talk? I don’t really care for all that.”

  “Aren’t you a feisty little bitch? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

  “Unless I was misinformed, your name is T-Roc, and I know exactly who I’m talking to.”

  T-Roc walked toward me and firmly grabbed my hair, pulling my neck slightly back. “You pop a lot of shit for an eighteen-year-old brat from nowhere. You need to decide whether you want to remain a nobody with your schoolbooks and English tests, or if you want to be somebody and keep me as a friend.”

  “Oh,” I said, with my head still tilted back, “that choice is easy.” T-Roc smiled and relaxed on the grip to my hair, assuming the crucial decision was a thumbs-up in his favor.

  “I’d rather be my own nobody than your somebody.”

  T-Roc had the look men get when they’re about to bitch slap you. Just then, Jason walked in. T-Roc released me, as if he didn’t have a choice due to Jason’s arrival. Relieved, I couldn’t get out of T-Roc’s house fast enough.