FLING: A Short Story Collection
Mayowa Koleosho
Copyright 2012 Mayowa Koleosho
Smashwords Edition
The first time we met was at a friend’s house fourteen years ago. I was a shy, nervous glassy eyed boy, who didn’t know much about the world. She was a bit older, wild, exotic and very well traveled. We were complete opposites.
I still remember that encounter vividly; it was almost like a trance. She waltzed into the room, and everything stopped. There were a bunch of us in there, and every single eye was on her. She was mesmerizing, an attention grabber to say the least. It was almost like real life slowed down, a matrix like effect.
We continued to ogle, barely breathing as we watched her every move. She spoke in a sound unlike any. It sent a rush through my body, a thrill I had never experienced until that very moment. Mind you, I was only eleven at this point. My brain could not properly interpret the emotions rushing through my body. All I know was that I loved it and wanted more….And then she was gone. Just like that the object of our fascination had left without as much as a ‘good bye’. That was my first taste of heartbreak, and I knew the other kids in the room felt that way too.
For the next couple of years, life kicked in, and I pretty much forgot about that night. I never heard or saw the mysterious lady for a good while. She was pretty much a foregone thought, until that fateful day, the day love took a hold of me and refused to let go.
‘The day’ as I have aptly named it, will forever be etched in my mind. I constantly replay that moment, still laughing at my reaction. It’s when my life changed. The day I effectively morphed from boy to man.
It was a very hot day. I was lying on my bed, bored with nothing to do. The radio was on the window sill, birds where chirping outside. That was when I heard it. It sounded so different, yet so familiar. That sweet melodic voice that transfixed me to the spot a few years back was back again. Could it really be her? She sounded so different, yet felt the same. I knew she was saying something meaningful, but I paid no attention to the words. Her voice was rapturous, taking me to new heights.
And then, just like the last time she was gone yet again. Dashing out of my life as quickly as she had entered it; déjà vu perhaps, but this time I’d be damned if I let her go. I was hooked, and there was nothing going to stop me from finding this woman.
The search was on! I remember going to school the next day, trying to find out more about her. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who had fallen for this intriguing lady. There was a whole bunch of us, and we maniacally craved for more. This was a period where cassettes were still the norm. CD’s were just becoming the acceptable means of listening to music, so tapes were the rage. We would scour the school looking for anyone with anything new from her. Then we’d have someone dub it on those tapes. It was serious business back then. Messing with a guy’s tape was like messing with his food. It was our only connection to her, and we cherished it intensely.
As I grew older, my love for her grew stronger. My parents of course frowned upon it. They just couldn’t see the attraction. She was unruly, rowdy and unrefined. There were better things to invest my time in they thought. I wish I could break it to them the impact she had on my life. She allowed me to express myself better, opened me to a world I never thought existed. She thought me how to dress, how to carry myself and how to have a jolly good time. She imbibed in me a sense of self-worth and thought me how to pay attention to what people were saying, rather than what they were doing. The list goes on and on, I could go on for days about this woman’s effect on me. She’s done more good in my life than bad. The kid from Lagos was madly in love with the girl from Brooklyn and there was no one that could tell me otherwise. Love had found me, and in the most unexpected way.
That was then, this is now.
She was the drug, I was the addict. But now I’m sober and my love for her has waned tremendously. When did I start losing interest you might ask? Well probably about my first year in college. She had simply become too famous for her own good. She started messing with the big dogs. Guys who only wanted to use her to make money. They pimped her, and in turn she got ridiculously famous. Everywhere I went, she was there. Her looks started to change, and so did her voice. Complexity was out the door, and in came marketable, gimmicky stunts. She showed her skin more, stopped trying to make sense. Sex sold, and she knew she could get more people to pay attention to her that way. She was the girl that every guy in the neighborhood had stories about, and trust me that’s never a good thing. She had lost her integrity, a cheap whore. You had the money; you could do as you please with her. What a shame…what a shame!
Something had gone awry and there was nothing I could do to stop it. That girl we admired from afar was no more. She was simply that tramp that would get with anyone for the sake of money. I couldn’t look at her without feeling disgusted. Couldn’t listen to her without something foul forming in my mouth. Gone were the days of adulation, replaced by nothing more than scorn. Nas not too long ago said, hip-hop is dead. Some agreed, some disagreed. I tend to believe she is in a coma. A self induced coma for that matter. She loved the lime light, loved the attention she commanded. Unfortunately sometimes we love something too much and it tends to be bad for us. She lost sight of what truly made her unique and now she has no identity.
I mourn for my love, yearn for days of old. Once in a while, I will hear something fresh that piques my interest. Sometimes I pick up my tapes from back in the day to relive those moments. It never feels the same, but it’s the closest to feeling like I used to. Hip-hop will always have a special place in my heart. Still can’t let go, despite the fact that there’s so much garbage out there.
Good bye my love, my heart weeps for you. I pray one day you will come back, but something tells me that will never happen.
I have a date with Destiny and just thinking about it makes my heart flutter excitedly. The thought of her fills me with joy. Destiny is that type of woman you want to impress at all costs. Leaving no stone unturned to satisfy her every desire. The type of woman that only presents herself to you once in a lifetime. She’s a rarity, a catch unlike others. There’s something about her that intrigues me. She’s the girl I have been searching for, the piece of the puzzle I have gone without for so long. As great as my future looks with her, my past continues to hold me back.
Life refuses to let me go and is doing everything in her power to prevent Destiny and I from succeeding. She continually sends her goons “Hardship and Tribulation’ to frustrate me. She notices how close I am getting to Destiny and she wants to do everything in her power to stop this from happening. Every step I take to be with Destiny, they lie in wait hoping to steer me elsewhere. They believe if they keep up with this, eventually I will give up and move onto something else. But how do I tell them that no matter what they do, no matter how hard they try, my eyes are on the prize.
I had a thing for Life once. We grew up together. She taught me a lot, she showed me the ropes, but the older I grew, the more jaded we became. We were both changing and our relationship could not handle it. I tend to think it was something I had done, but then when I look at the way she treats others, I quickly realize that’s not the case. It’s funny how someone can look so pretty from afar, but when you get to know them better, the facade starts to fall apart. I had to move on, it was time to get my act together. Unfortunately she never got the memo, her stranglehold got even tighter.
She wanted me to stay the same, when she realized I wouldn’t, she resorted to the tricks. Her goons roughed me up, frustrated me at every turn. Their intent was to get me to run back to Life, begging for her warm embrace. What they didn’t realize was that a long time ago, Resilience had told me, “If Life knocks you down, you best get up on your own. It’s not how many times you fall rather it’s all about getting back up.” So I put up with the hassles, ignored Life’s threats. I was too enamored with Destiny to let anything get in the way.
Now Destiny was a hard woman to impress. She had many suitors. At first it felt daunting, what did I have to offer a woman who seemed to have it all. But the more I watched from afar, the more I wanted to know her. To make matters worse, she was usually in the midst of two other highly sought after females, her best friends “Success and Fortune”. To get with Destiny, I was going to have to win them women over to my side. It felt like an insurmountable task. These were no ordinary women, their confidence was through the roof. Men and women constantly chased them and they craved the attention.
I knew I couldn’t offer them worldly possessions, they had plenty of those already. Neither would trickery work on them, they had most likely seen everything in the book. No! If this was going to work, I was going to have to be myself. I had nothing to lose. My intentions for their friend was genuine.
Luck smiled on me when I came across all 3 at the mall the very next day. Every scenario I had played in my head over and over again about approaching Destiny seemed to have vanished into thin air the moment I laid eyes upon her. My friend Fate had escorted me to the mall that day, and as much as I tried to chicken out of going up to Destiny, I knew she wouldn’t let me off easily. Fate had been quite supportive of my decisions, she believed Destiny and I would make a great couple. “Be yourself and everything will work out,” she constantly told me. So it was no surprise that she was egging me on to go talk to Destiny. “This is your chance, what are you waiting for? They are right there!”
“I..I…it looks like they are busy”, I stuttered.
“Nonsense! They are just chatting. Don’t tell me you are scared?” Fate demanded.
I was forced to go on the defensive, not wanting her to think I had a problem with walking up to Destiny and her friends. “Come on now, me scared? No way.”
“Okay then, man up, and go talk to your girl…she’s waiting for you”, hissed Fate. I knew she could tell I was nervous, but her abrasive style of getting me to make a move had worked. I couldn’t back out now. I had to talk to Destiny.
I took the first step and immediately I could tell this wasn’t going to be fun. A lump had formed in my throat and my palms were sweaty. Luckily for me, the trio of friends were still a few feet away and they were too busy talking to notice my nervous self. I consider myself a man of even temperament, yet my nerves were tethering on the edge at the very moment. I tried to move forward, but my muscles felt like jelly. Every step closer to my goal made my heart race even faster. In the back of my mind, Fate’s words kept coming back “You’ve got nothing to lose…you’ve got nothing to lose”. Mustering up every ounce of energy I had in me, I took a deep sigh and walked boldly forward.
I tentatively asked if I could speak with their friend alone. They sized me up, winked at their friend and got up. They could probably tell how nervous I was, which was quite surprising that they left me to deal with their friend on my own. So there I was, finally in front of the woman of my dreams. The time was now, how would I handle the situation?
At first there was an awkward silence, I figure we both didn’t know what to say. She was even prettier up close. I loved the way she toyed with her hair, avoiding my gaze, blushing ever so subtly. Could it be this amazing woman was also nervous? But why should she, after all I was the one trying to impress her. No it couldn’t be. Maybe she didn’t want to dash my hopes by rejecting me so quickly. Maybe she was trying to avoid my gaze because I repulsed. Suddenly so many nasty thoughts started creeping up in my head. My hopes started to sink, this was not going as planned.
For a brief second our eyes locked, and it was at that very moment I knew everything would be alright. Taking the plunge, I introduced myself, told her how I had always wanted to get to know her. How I admired her from afar but never had the guts to approach her. How every time I tried, one obstacle or the other popped up.
How I was close to given up, but my friends wouldn’t let me. Ultimately hoping that one day I could go on a date with her. By the time I had poured all this out to her, I felt like a chump. Gushing like a broken faucet, spilling out both the necessary and unnecessary.
She looked at me with those gorgeous brown eyes, making me feel like she was staring into the depths of my very soul. The lump was back in my throat, tighter than the last time.
And then she spoke in that soft angelic like voice that allayed all my fears. “Why did it take you so long?, she asked. “I have been waiting on you to ask me out for a while now”.
She smiled and then it finally hit me. Destiny was just as interested in me as I was in her. All the doubts, all my fears were all for naught. What I had yearned for was finally there for the taken. Our future was brighter than ever.
The Black R8 cruised past the line of club goers, the driver’s side window rolled down so people could take note of who was driving.
The car circles the block one more time before pulling into a parking lot. A 6 foot 3, caramel complexioned male steps out of the car. He looks in the side view mirror of his car and smiles at what he sees. He knows tonight is going to be an epic night, after all he had been looking forward to the outing for a while now.
He bypasses the line of people waiting to enter the club, and walks up to the bouncers by the door. He daps them all and is let in without any hassle. Our caramel complexioned playboy strolls into the club confidently, prepared for the night’s activities.
He walks in feeling like a million bucks. In his mind, he’s already thinking of what angle to play tonight. Should he be the athlete, the business man, the doctor or the model? All had their uses, it just depended on who he was trying to convince.
He surveys the room, smiling at what he sees. There were definitely a lot of ‘hotties’ in the place tonight. No way was he going home empty handed.
Marcel aka the Caramel Adonis, a name he had penned for himself, calmly walks over to the bar to get a better view of the spot.
Not long after wards, comfortably sipping on a daiquiri, the hunter moves towards the dance floor, preparing to move in on his targets. One of these girls would be his prey for the night.
That was when he saw her…The tall Amazon in red, skin the color of Ivory, body of a video vixen. For that brief moment, she was the center of his universe. Nothing else mattered, he knew he had to have this woman at all costs. She was surrounded by a bevy of girls, posing a problem for him. This was a night he regretted not having a wing man to divert the attention of her friends. He was not to be dissuaded though, the task might be daunting, but not impossible. All he needed was a few minutes to isolate her.
Lady luck seemed to be on his side that night as he spotted her walking towards the bar alone. Her every step accentuated her curves, the sway of her hips had him mesmerized. This was one confident woman and it seemed other males in the club had taken notice. He moved in quickly, he was not going to let anyone else beat him to the punch.
She was ordering a drink, when he sidled up to her and nudged her gently. Gosh she was tall, he thought to himself, but not too tall for him. Maybe it was her heels, regardless she looked even better up close.
“So sorry, did I spill my drink on you?, he said.
She smiled, shaking
her head. He smiled back, taking control of the situation. That was
all he needed, she had presented him with the opening he wanted and
he was going in for the kill.
He talked, she listened. He charmed,
she giggled. He made sure she saw his car keys, neatly attached to
his Gucci belt. Marcel was never one to waste an effect. Everything
on him was meant to grab attention. He was too skilled at this game,
he’d been doing it for years. He knew what women liked, he knew
what caught their attention. He could tell from her eyes that she
liked what he was about. She laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones.
She hadn’t run off to join up with her friends and seemed like
she was enjoying the attention he showered her. The only thing that
struck him odd about her was how quiet she was. She hadn’t said
a word yet, though there had been plenty giggles and smiles thrown
his way.
“Hey, you wanna catch a movie or something? My house isn’t too far from here”, he asked her. “Its hard getting to know you, with all this noise. You seem like a pretty cool girl, I’d love to know you better.”
She looks at him, eyebrows raised, mulling over his question. Shrugging, she nods excitedly at him. Elated, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the club.
They arrive at his house. Hand in hand they walk up to the door, he presses a few numbers on the keypad, door latch releases, they walk in. She can’t help but marvel at his swanky pad. She scans the room, nodding in appreciation at how well it is set up. The place is nicely furnished, exquisite decor. Marcel was a well traveled man, it showed in his tastes. He spent a lot on making it look good, but he knew it was worth it. Many women had entered that house, many victories had been snagged in there. None had been in there and left unimpressed.
He tells her to have a seat on the sofa, whilst he goes into the adjacent kitchen to get them refreshments. He returns with a wine set and places it in front of her. He switches on the TV, and scrolls through his DVD collection. The Notebook is highlighted on screen. It was his go to movie in such situations. As far as Marcel was concerned, this was one of the best romantic movies ever made. It hit all the right notes with women and that was why he always had it on hand whenever he brought home a female.
He puts the movie in play and briefly excuses himself once again. This time walking over to the switch by the wall to the dim the lights. Ambiance was important when it came to such. He was not striking out tonight.
He jogs back to the sofa, just in time to catch the opening credits. 30 minutes in, she starts shivering, the room is getting quite chilly. He smirks, knowing his calculated move was working. Unbeknownst to his guest, he had dropped the temperature just low enough for someone wearing light clothing to feel uncomfortable. He on the other hand was felt fine in his warm clothing, time to make his move he thought to himself.
He moved closer, knowing she would need the warmth. She reciprocated, laying her head on his shoulder. He smiled yet again, this was in the bag.
All he had to do was wait for the kissing scene in the rain. The moment in the movie where Gosling and McAdams released a tidal wave of emotions, one of the most sensual scenes he had ever witnessed on screen. From experience, very few women could resist him at that point. Something about that scene had a magical effect on them, whatever barriers they had built up before then seemed to have vanished. This night proved no different. She sighed and snuggled up to him more, thoroughly caught up in what was happening onscreen.
He went in for the kill. He gently pulled her face to his, looked into her eyes longingly, and moved in closer. Their lips locked, the Caramel Adonis was in his zone. They fondled and caressed, bodies intertwined, passionate sounds coming from both.
He tries to reach under her skirt but she is quick to push his hands away, grabbing hold of his face, kissing him more passionately. They both tumble to the floor and burst out laughing at how clumsy they are. He motions towards his bedroom, she giggles and reaches for his hand. He pulls her up, they start making out again. She jumps into his arms, nibbling at his ears, moving down to his neck area. He is absolutely loving it, he doesn’t want her to stop. He squeezes her behind, as he stumbles backwards towards his bed room.
On getting there, he hurriedly opens the door and proceeds for the bed. They fall on it, madly caressing and fondling each. He tries yet again to reach under her skirt, but he is denied once more. She gets off him and stands up. He sits up wondering what’s going on. She turns her back to him and starts walking away. He jumps up immediately, “Hey what’s going on…where are you?"
Before he can finish the sentence, she turns around and places her fingers on her lips. She seductively starts walking towards him. With each step she slowly starts undressing. By the time she’s in front of him, she’s only got on her bra and panties. Marcel’s eyes are wide as pennies, licking his lips at what he is about to feast on. Everything about her body made him want her more. Her wash board abs, her voluptuous bosom, her sensuous hips, if he were to make his perfect woman, she might be the prototype. To top it off, she had that exotic look to her, something about her stuck out. He couldn’t place it, but this woman was special. Very special!
She slowly moved from side to side, gyrating her hips to the music in her head. She leaned over and pushed him on the bed. Proceeding to unbutton his shirt whilst nibbling on his ears. Marcel is beyond ecstatic. He had hoped for a great night, but so far this had exceeded his expectations.
By now, her hands were at his navel. Methodically inching closer and closer to this unit. This was a professional, she clearly knew what she was doing. A minute later his pants were on the ground, and so was she. What occurred next, totally blew him away. She took him to new heights, emotions he had not experienced in a long time. He had been with many women, but none like this. Every touch, every move, every action made his whole body tingle.
He clutched the sheets, biting his lips. He peeked at her, all he could see was the dark mass of her silky hair. “Don’t stop, PLEASEEE!!!!, he blurted out.
She continued, like an expert artist putting finishing touches to a masterpiece. She was relentless the way she took to pleasing him. His breathing became tense, he knew he was almost there. “OH GOD! I AM……”, he yelled, and then everything went silent.
Marcel lay there, staring at the ceiling, a cheeky grin frozen on his face. If he could package and sell the emotions he had just felt, he knew he would be seriously rich. He couldn’t help but laugh. He wanted to do it again. This woman had blown his mind away and he needed more. He looked over at her, she was cleaning up her face with a hankie from her purse. She looked up at him and grinned, knowing she had done her job.
He sits up and addresses her. “Come here naughty girl…come to daddy”. She gets up and sits on his lap, looking into his eyes. “You just rocked my world missy, now let me return the favor”, he says confidently. She giggles nervously, batting her eyelashes invitingly. Marcel rolls with her onto the bed, this time he’s the one on top. His hand moves lower, and into her pants. That’s when everything goes awry for him. For what he felt down there, was not what he had expected.
“Your turn Daddy, treat me gently”, she croaked in a deep masculine voice.
That was the first time she had spoken that night, and now he knew why. Eyes bulging, heart pounding faster, it began to dawn on him, that she was a he.
First class flights, luxury hotels, exotic cars, beautiful women and adoring fans. Typical for a rap superstar. If you had told me five years ago I’d be living this life, I’d have laughed and called you a fool. I never thought life would change so soon, never thought kids from the projects could turn it around this quick. The lil homies knew we couldn’t sell the white forever, we were looking for an exit as soon as we got in the lane. Too many dudes had fallen by the way, our only option was this music thing.
It wasn’t easy getting into the game. Way too much politics and bullshit. Where I came from, a man’s word meant everything. You say what you mean, and mean what you say. Same shit don’t apply to these Music biz cats. Way too many snakes out there. They kept stringing us along. “You sound good son, we’d love to sign you…when we can we meet?”
Come meeting time, clowns would tell us we weren’t ready just yet. We were too rough, our sound was too street. It was always one thing or the other.
I’d have quit this shit a long time ago, but Jamil, bless his heart…he stuck with me through thick and thin. He believed in my talent. He knew we had to get off the streets, said I was going places. He was the one that kept me going. Pushed me back up every time I fell. That dude put his heart into this shit. Never met anyone that believed in me so much. We’d put together however much we made from the streets and use it to pay for recording sessions. We weren’t famous yet but man we were like local celebrities. Recording sessions were like house parties. People would stop by with all sorts of alcohol and weed. Those were some of the best times of my life. Wrote some crazy shit back then. The emotions were so raw, I was pretty much recording my life on track. I think that’s what made the people like us. We were a bunch of hood cats that talked about our everyday struggle. Shit wasn’t rosy. It was none of that bubble gum shit on the radio. It was dark, gritty, heartfelt music.
Jamil told me to fuck the labels and do it on my own. I swear it was the best investment I ever made. The returns were crazy. All of a sudden people started calling us for shows. Before we knew it we were doing shows in states we never even heard of. I still remember the show we did up in Wyoming. Shit was crazy, I didn’t even know black folks lived out there.
The more popular we became, the more the labels started paying attention to us. It started with one call a week, then it doubled, before long we were getting like ten calls a week from different label execs. The kid they said was too rough was the same one they were trying to get to sign with them.
We weren’t no punks though. We already heard stories of how shady the industry was. These clowns get you to sign some contract and you are pretty much a slave to them. Nah fuck that! We were making too much money out here to not care about the labels. They either came correct, or not even bother stepping to us. Of course that pissed off a lot of people. I was the voice behind the tracks, but Jamil was the guy everyone had to go through to get to me. They hated the fact that we were on top of our game.
Unsigned artists weren’t supposed to be that savvy. We wuz supposed to be hungry and desperate at that point. I guess they should blame the internet cause it did wonders for me.
We knew we were big time when white kids in the Netherlands were rapping along to my song, word for word, bar for bar. That shit is incredible I tell you. I aint never had a high like that. No drug can top that for real. You are out there rapping in a foreign land, and these kids you think have nothing in common with you are saying your shit like they wrote it. Unfuckingbelievable!
I don’t know why this happened to me. I never thought I’d do better than the next cat on the block. I knew Jamil since high school. We were just kids that wanted the coolest gear out there. We lived in a rough neighborhood, aint no jobs around for people like us. So we did what most young males our age did. We sold dope. We had no illusions of what we were getting into. We knew people who had been killed doing that. All we wanted was some quick money, or at least that’s what I wanted. Jamil on the other hand, that dude is a fuckin’ visionary. He never went to college but I swear the way he plans things out. Mind blowing I tell you!
He knew I had the gift of gab. Knew I could string together words. He saw the music as our way out.
I remember he’d bring these tapes he’d gotten from some guy who had a music store and would tell me to study it. Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, Kool G Rap, you name it, he probably had it. I started to perfect my style by listening to them. We’d go out to other blocks and challenge whoever was hot out there. The more I battled, the better I became. Soon cats stopped trying to battle me. That shit was funny to me, but Jamil always said, “you aint no battle rapper….you better than that shit bro.”
I took that to heart and made sure people got the full range of my abilities on tracks. Feels like yesterday when we dropped that first tape. I remember the energy on that shit. I’d go in the booth and literally pour my heart out. Sometimes I’d cry in the middle of a take and people would look at me like I was crazy. Jamil understood though, he knew how much that shit meant to both of us.
No wonder he felt like a proud father when the calls started coming in.
Alas tragedy would get to us before we could fully reap the fruits of our success. Our love for the hood would come back to bite us in the rear.
Jamil was always about giving back to where we came from. “Show them we can do better than what the odds gave us,” he used to say. Unfortunately we underestimated just how much hate was out there. We were making decent money, flying all over the country, decked in the flyest gear and we were doing all this legally. This didn’t sit well with some of the people who knew us. We had finally found a way out of the trap and they hated us for that. They’d rather see us all be nobodies than for a few of us to actually make something of our lives. Its sad when you think about it, a bunch of crabs in a barrel.
I was about to experience a life changing event, one I never prepared for.
Jamil had gone back home on that faithful day to check up on his moms. I was out of town shooting a video. He was supposed to fly out the next day to meet up with me. Little did we know that one of our boys had planned for Jamil to get robbed. Now Jamil aint no punk. According to the police report, these cats had waited for him to leave his ma’s house and as soon as he stepped in his car, they approached him. He probably didn’t suspect anything, after all they were dudes from the area. Reports went on to say he got out to greet them and then one of them pulled a gun on him. They demanded he give them his wallet and he refused. One thing lead to another and they shot him.
I still remember what I was doing when the news hit. I was in the shower and I could hear my phone ringing repeatedly. By the time I got out of the shower and picked up my phone, I had missed about fifteen calls. I called back and got the horrible news my best friend had been killed. The kids who did it weren’t expecting it to go down like it did. They turned themselves in immediately and confessed they were put up by a friend of ours.
It felt like a part of me had died. My first instinct was revenge. I wanted to go back home and snuff the life of the dude responsible. It took a lot of will power for me to rethink that line of action. I know Jamil wouldn’t have wanted that. I wasn’t going to let everything he had worked for go down the drain overnight. I would use this music to remind everyone just how special he was. My drive to succeed was kicked up another notch. I was going to make him proud of me.
It took a while but I finally learned to move on without him. I had to learn how to negotiate these shark infested waters of the music business. Before Jamil would be at the helm of my ship, but now that he’s gone, I have no choice but to do this on my own.
I figure he was in a good word for me with the man above, because my music took off after his passing. I finally signed a major label contract that put me in control of my work, TV and radio were playing my shit like crazy. World tours, features all over the place, at some point I didn’t even know what my house looked like anymore because I was on the road so damn much. As much as I loved the success, sometimes I felt so empty and alone. I’d give all this shit back for him to be here. That dude was more than a brother. I felt selfish having to enjoy all this success without him. Shit just don’t feel right I tell you.
I was having these bouts on a regular basis, highs and lows with occasional periods of second guessing myself. Felt like I was doing the same things over and over again. Shows, hoes, clothes…not in the same order, but along those lines. Every city I went, I basically saw the same type of people. Life was beginning to bore me, fame wasn’t what I thought it would be. Trust me, there were times I wanted to quit the whole thing. Could do without all the fake people and the media sticking their nose into my business. I never thought I’d be sacrificing my privacy to get heard. I couldn’t go anywhere without hearing the click of a camera shutter.
I needed something to keep me going. I needed real companionship. That was when I met her. That was when I found love.
I met her at an industry shindig. It was one of those nights where much of everything remained vague up until that one moment that changes the course of things. She was there with a friend of hers, they were both aspiring journalists. It was a big deal for her friend to be in the presence of so many industry bigwigs and stars, to her it was just another night out far away from the comfort of her bed. She seemed shy, nestled in the corner, watching everything happening with rapt attention. I was bored, walking around the room, barely paying attention to the hanger-ons and groupies trailing me. That was when I spotted her...that was when the room slowed down drastically.
Let me get this out of the way quickly, Deandra was fine. When I say fine, I mean super attractive. I have been around some sexy looking women, especially after making it big. Deandra easily tops that list. Most of them will acknowledge Deandra is one of a kind. Her father was white and her mother was Polynesian. She was truly an exotic mix. She had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. You could stare at those things for days. Her skin had a creamy mocha complexion and under the light it looked as if it glistened. Then those lips, cotdamn those lips were so kissable. To top it off she was about 5’9 with an amazing frame. Nice firm boobs, washboard abs and gorgeous arch coupled with what my man Nelly would call ‘an apple bottom.’ I remember after we started dating, there were times I’d just stop and stare at her as she walked around. It was mesmerizing, almost like her body was speaking to me.
I knew that night after spotting her that I had to get to know her. Nothing was going to deter me.
At first she paid me no mind. Usually I was the one being chased after but with her it was completely different. About five minutes into the conversation, I realized she wasn’t the type that was impressed by the glitz and glamour. I was going to have to convince her that the real me, behind the facade was actually worth getting to know. The more I got out of character and stayed true to myself, the more she opened up to me. We talked for hours but none of us seemed to bother. She told me of her aspirations, how she wanted to be an anchor or a host of her own show. She wondered if I always wanted to be a rapper. She was disappointed I thought of it as my only way out but also knew we were both from the wrong side of the tracks. Our perspectives on life had been shaped by how we were raised. She was from a middle class background, I was what must would consider society’s bottom rung.
The party was winding down, the sun would be out in a few hours, yet our convo didn’t wane. I suggested we drive up into the hills, where we could watch the sun rise. She was game, though she made sure to stress I would be getting none that night. Truth be told, that never occurred to me during my time with her. Yes I found her attractive, but something about being with her and talking to her made me feel good about myself. I needed to be around her more, I wanted her in my life.
We drove to one of the best spots around. A picturesque location overlooking the city. Very few moments in my life can top watching that sun rise with her, bathing everything in its radiant glow.
I drove her home shortly after wards. The drive was silent but we both knew something had been sparked that day. We saw ourselves a couple more times after that. We dated for 3 months, by the fourth month we were married. That was supposed to be the start of a beautiful union, but alas I have come to realize, life always has a trick or two up its sleeve when it comes to me.
Those first few years of marriage were probably the best years of our lives. We were madly in love and it reflected in everything we did together. Trips around the world, exotic locales, over the top celebrations you name it. She pushed me to try new things, in turn I gave her a perspective she wasn’t used to. We were the modern day version of ‘the lady and the tramp’. She was the sophisticated, sometimes naive princess from the suburbs, I was the street smart kid from the hood who just happened to have a couple of millions in the bank.
She helped refine me, gave me that polish I was lacking. I gave her the excitement she had never had in a partner. She loved my spontaneity and the fact that I wasn’t afraid to break the rules once in a while. I loved everything about her. Her wit, her smile, her mind, her body…hmm hmmm hmmm!
Daddy’s little girl was fascinated with the ‘other side’ as she called it. She wanted to know what it was like growing up where I came from. I still remember how shocked she was when I took her to the hood. It was all surreal to her. Apartments without heat and electricity, broken down elevators, staircases without railings, bullet casings littered around and of course the random critter scurrying down the hall way. The look on her face at the end of the day was frame-worthy. She had never experienced such, and I doubt she ever will again. Its stuff like that, that made being with her so special. She was willing to step out of her comfort zone, never one to shy away from challenges.
Alas things weren’t always so rosy with both of us. In hindsight, we should have spent more time getting to know each other. Instead we rushed into marriage, it was a union destined to fail.
When we started dating, she voiced her concern about my line of work and the lifestyle involved with it. I reassured her numerous times I could do without all the hoopla that came with it. My focus was on making excellent music and coming home to her. I honestly believed I could do just that. I had everything I wanted in a woman, why stray? Most of these girls on the road were only out for one thing…Deandra was offering me much more. I thought I could avoid the distractions, boy was I wrong.
What started of as little cracks would eventually widen, turning into a chasm that would finally engulf both of us.
I didn’t cheat on Deandra, but sometimes it felt that way. It wasn’t even about the groupies; sometimes I felt I was devoting way too much time to my career rather than her.
In the beginning, after spending so much time on the road, I’d take a few months off to be with her. It seemed to placate her for a while, but as time went on, she couldn’t handle the distance.
She complained about the lonely nights, the large house all to herself. She wanted me there, but my schedule wouldn’t allow it. I was getting richer but losing the one thing that mattered the most to me. She started to change. The bubbly, open minded girl I fell in love with was being replaced by a moody more paranoid person. She would call at all sorts of hours. Sometimes she’d hear the women chattering in the background and get all upset. She failed to realize that with this type of job, the party never stopped. Never mind the fact that I turned down so many women, it never mattered to her. Her paranoia was fueling her irrational behavior. She threatened to leave, but for some weird reason never did.
Despite all of our problems, I still loved her. I wanted to make things work. Even went on a hiatus from music for a year just to be with her. Things temporarily got better. I figure all she really wanted was my attention.
Contractual obligations had me back in the studio a year after. Fans were clamoring for music, the record label was ticked that I had gone so long without putting out anything. I was going to have to build back the buzz all over again. That meant touring, radio interviews, TV, the whole nine yards. I was going to be on the road a lot. I thought things with Deandra were at a point where our previous problems wouldn’t resurface. Yup…Big mistake!
The thing about hip-hop music is that the fans can be incredibly fickle. You might be the hottest thing on the scene today, come tomorrow you are barely filling out seats at the local bar. I knew I was going to have to work extra hard to make up for the time lost during my hiatus. Luckily, my management and label were up to task. We were going to bombard all outlets and remind them just how crucial I was to the game. The media blitz was in full effect.
I had gigs lined up all around the country. My new single would be coming out soon and the album would be out by the middle of the year. I felt good about life, Deandra and I were finally on the same page. Gone were the sleepless nights, the crazy texts and phone calls. We had a good thing going and it was being reflected in the music I was creating. This album was going to be special, I had no doubts about that.
We had just finished shooting a video out in Vegas. The homies said they wanted to go out on the town, I wanted to go back to the hotel and relax. They weren’t having any of it, claimed I was becoming too anti-social. After much cajoling, I caved in. We headed for the Mirage. Something about that place puts me in a good mood. The management always treated us well and for some weird reason, I always won a lot of money in their casino.
There was a crowd out front, they had to sneak us in through the back and into one of their less crowded lounges. That’s the price of fame I suppose, you can’t go anywhere without feeling like a caged animal in the zoo. People gawk at you, most want your attention. As much as I love the fans, sometimes I just want to be like them. Moving around in anonymity, my every move not scrutinized. It takes the fun out of things when you can’t even go on the casino floor because people are out there observing your every move.
F it though, we were out here to have a good time and we weren’t going to let anything stop us. My boys would make sure nothing got out of hand.
We roamed from table to table, gambling thousands of dollars like it meant nothing to us. There was this pretty Asian girl that kept tagging along. She claimed she was my biggest fan. Even started reciting a few lines. I already knew what she wanted, if this had happened two or three years ago, she’d already be in my hotel room learning some new poses. Unfortunately for her, I am a different man now. I really wanted things to work out with Deandra, meaning I wasn’t going to jeopardize what we had worked so hard to rebuild for a one night stand. Besides the Paparazzi were here. There was no way I was leaving the casino floor with her, without them noticing.
I tried to shoo her away, but to no avail. She was adamant and slightly tipsy, told me the least I could do was dance with her. I obliged, as long as it would get her to leave after wards. It was harmless fun I told myself.
Shorty could dance. She definitely caught me off guard. Don’t know if she was trying to prove a point, but she definitely got my attention. I had a few drinks in me, so did she. We were both loose. One thing lead to another and before you know it, our lips were about to collide. In the corner of my eye, I saw someone take a picture. I turned around to look, she looked like one of Deandra’s friends, but was too far away for me to make her out clearly. I immediately pushed the Asian chick away. I knew things would only get worse if I kept dancing with her. In my mind I had done nothing wrong, I had just averted what could have been a very bad situation. Little did I know that my problems had just begun.
I told the homies I was heading back to the hotel. I needed to talk to Deandra. There was this urge to hear her voice. A few minutes later, we were driving down the highway, back to the hotel.
First thing I did once I got in the room was to call her. The phone rang a couple of times, no answer. That was really weird. She never took that long to answer the phone. Could something have happened to her? I looked at the time, it was about 3 a.m. She probably was asleep. I got into bed, thinking I’d call her in the morning.
For some weird reason I couldn’t sleep that night. I missed Deandra badly. I hadn’t seen her in about a month. I missed her body laying next to mine. Missed her soft touch, the gentle caress of her hands across my body. I was longing for some companionship, I had to see her.
I jumped out of bed and reached for my cell phone on the drawer. My mind was made up, I was going back home the next day. I’d spend the week there and catch up with whatever I had to do the next. Deandra was worth it, I was going to surprise her with my unexpected return.
I slept throughout the flight, felt refreshed by the time we touched down. A limousine was already waiting for me on the tarmac. Thank God I wouldn’t have to deal with the airport crowds. I was in no mood for signing autographs, just wanted to be out of here as fast as I could.
I had the driver stop by the Jeweler’s before we went home. Been thinking of surprising Deandra with a gift for a while now. Why not renew our vows all over again. I got her one of the hottest rings in the store, four karats to be exact. The light hit it in all the right spots, I knew she was going to be ecstatic about it. Set me back a good 60K but my baby was worth every dime.
I carefully pocketed it and went back into the car. Time to head home.
Driving through New York traffic is a pain in the ass, especially during rush hour. Here I was thinking of how I was going to surprise my wife with this ring, yet I was stuck in this car, moving at a pace slower than a turtle stuck in mud.
I had already envisioned in my head her reaction. Images of her jumping in my arms and smothering my face with kisses popped into my head. I pictured how many places we’d mess up tonight. I couldn’t wait to get home. Probably should have called ahead of time, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. She wasn’t expecting me for the next few days, might as well show up unannounced.
After what seemed like an eternity we rolled up to the crib. I picked up my bags and told the driver he could leave. Gave him a few hundred dollars and thanked him for his time. The car drove off into the distance, I headed for the house.
I searched my person for my keys, couldn’t seem to find them anywhere. “Dammit, could I have lost them again?” This day was slowly becoming more frustrating by the minute. I cussed under my breath and dropped my luggage to the ground.
I rang the bell and waited for D to let me in. Two minutes, five minutes…still no response. I rung it again and again, still nothing! What the heck was going on?
Some sounds were coming from the house. Ears to the door, I could hear loud music playing. It sounded like slow music, R.Kelly…no its Trey Songz. I turned around and looked at the drive way. My baby’s drop top was there. She was definitely at home, but why wasn’t she answering? Maybe she was upstairs sleeping or busy doing something.
I walk around to the back to see if I could get in. To my surprise, the door was unlocked. I hadn’t walked too far when I smelled incense, chased by a weed aroma. Could my senses be deceiving me? Deandra didn’t like to smoke. Shit, come to think of it, I don’t think I have ever seen that girl smoke.
My surprise meter was about to go up even more as I walked into the living room. There were empty Guinness bottles strewn all over the carpet. Red lipstick was smeared over some of them. A pair of blue Jeans was also on the floor, right next to some Timberland boots.
I picked up the boots just to make sure they weren’t mine. They were size twelve’s, I wore elevens. Definitely not mine. In the corner of my eye I saw something spinning. It looked like a G-string. As if in a trance, I moved slowly towards it, staring at it, wondering how the heck it got up there.
This shit wasn’t funny. Something was going down here and I knew it was going to be bad. I clenched my fists as I walked up the stairs, this mystery was about to get solved.
Just as I reached the top of the staircase, I heard laughter. It was definitely Deandra, but then there was another which I wasn’t so sure. Deeper, more guttural. It was that of a male.
The bedroom door was slightly ajar, from the crack between the door I could see Deandra laying on top of another dude. I froze, not knowing how to react. He had one hand on her ass, she had hers on his crotch. Toasting wine glasses, Cherry scented candles lit, I couldn’t handle the shit. Searching for words I found none, without a sound I turned back and went downstairs. Moved quickly towards the book shelf and hit the secret button under the dictionary. It parted and revealed the safe. Keyed in the code and opened it up. I pulled out my glock, a sick smile on my face.
Grabbed my phone and dialed a number. My man Horse picked up.
“Yo I am coming through, don’t go anywhere.”
I hopped in the car and sped out the driveway. All sorts of thoughts were running through my mind, most of them were violent. “How could she do this to me? How could she bring another man into our house?” To cast away all that we have built together for something so reckless and petty…it made no damn sense to me.
The image of them giggling and laughing whilst she sat on top of him kept replaying in my mind over and over again like a never ending loop. By the time I got to Horse’ place, I was seething with rage, ready to do some very vile things.
I burst into his apartment, startling him. He was surprised to see me back in New York so soon.
“Son you home early…they wiped you out that quick?” he asked.
“Nah”, I showed him the gun with the nine in the clip. “Bet you’ll never guess in a million years what I just saw happening — and probably still is. Snuck in my crib - some dude was fuckin’ my chick. I saw them, they didn’t see me, I ducked and I slid.”
The whole time he looked at me incredulous like I was making it up. Horse knew Deandra, he liked her. Told me she was the best thing to ever happen to me. So for me to be telling him this about her, shit must have felt like he was getting punk’d.
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