Crazy on You

by Crystal B. Bright

  Tassia snickered. “I won’t need any of those. I’m not concerned about hooking up with anyone while on vacation.”

  “Then why did you get a full Brazilian?” India pointed down.

  Tassia looked down as though she could see through her dress. “How did you know that?”

  “Easy. You confirmed it just now.” India winked. “I’ll throw some in your carryon bag just in case.” Tassia started to complain to her friend about butting into her private life when India continued. “What about work?”

  Tassia shook her head. “Nothing about me right now. Let’s talk about you. You just jetted down from New York to Virginia Beach. Your stylist duties aren’t needed right now?”

  India shook her head. “It’s summertime. Celebs are vacationing. Award season will start up soon and I’ll be too busy to breathe then. Until then, you got me.” She sighed. “What about you? Now that you don’t have anyone to ride at the moment…” She punctuated her statement by doing a dirty grind against Tassia’s bed.

  “Will you stop that? And don’t bring up that line.” Tassia huffed.

  “Why? That song put some major coins in your pocket. If I were you, instead of saying my name when I meet new people, I would just sing that line.” At the top of her lungs, India belted out Tassia’s infamous lyric.

  Tassia cringed when she heard the words sung by someone else, not because India had a bad voice and couldn’t sing. “And that’s my fear.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to be like the woman who sang in that song ‘Good Vibrations’ back in the 90s. No one knows her name, but they know the song. I want people to know I’m Tassia, and I’m a damn good songwriter and singer.”

  She struggled with the songwriting at first, but practice made perfect…until she stopped briefly to go on tour. When Truman and Chantel mentioned that she and Hyde would write songs on the new album, that scared her more than being in the same room with her former fellow Rat Crew member.

  India sat up and adjusted her shirt and shorts when they bunched around her thick middle. “I can dig it. Did you talk to Norma or Graham about any of this? What about your contract with Charisma?”

  Tassia wanted to start her vacation relatively drama free. She knew after a few drinks she would eventually spill her guts to her best friend about her career, her time at Charisma, and that deal they wanted to make with her. She didn’t want to talk about any of that right now.

  “I’ll tell you about all of that and more when we get out of here and get to put our toes in some foreign water.” Tassia stretched her arms in the air. “After going from city to city, and from hotel to hotel, it will be great to just relax. I don’t want to think about anything.”

  India clapped her hands twice. “If you want to do all this relaxing, you need to get a move on. We need to be at the airport soon.”

  Tassia glanced at her watch. “We’re fine. We have time.” In her bare feet, she padded to her en suite bathroom. “So how many bathing suits did you pack?”

  India released a salacious laugh. “One, because I plan on being naked most of the time.”

  Tassia poked her head out of the bathroom to stare at her friend. “You are not going to be walking around naked with me.”

  India sniffed. “Fine. I’ll go on the other side of the beach away from you. I don’t need you messing up my cruising game anyway.” She scanned around the bed to the nightstand and must have spotted what she wanted. She picked up the TV remote and turned on the wall-mounted set. “Besides, you’ll be too busy moping around or worse.”

  Tassia rested her fist on her hip. “What’s worse than moping?”

  “Working.” India opened her mouth wide and poked her finger in it while simulating a gagging sound. “I know you. You’re going to be writing the whole time, probably about that no-good Dudley.”

  “Dorian.”

  “Whatever. I know how you are.” She flicked from one station to the next. “You’re probably going to write the next ‘No Scrubs’ anthem song that will get women cheering behind you while shaking their booties.”

  “Stop it. I’m not even packing a notepad or anything.” Tassia pointed to her open suitcase.

  India shook her head. “Like I don’t know that you do most of your writing on your tablet or phone. You’re not fooling anyone. And I don’t blame you.”

  Tassia leaned against the doorframe. “You don’t?”

  India shrugged. “You’re going to need some songs for your album.”

  This time Tassia snickered. “Fat chance.” She knew she should have held her tongue on that topic, but with the mention of the future Tassia wouldn’t be having, she couldn’t stay silent.

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.” India sat up in the center of the bed and crossed her legs while resting the remote on her thick thigh.

  Tassia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end the more she thought about the offer she had gotten from Truman and Chantel. “It’s nothing.”

  “That means it’s something.” India scooted to the end of the bed and let her chubby legs dangle. “Spill it.”

  Tassia started to turn back into the bathroom to continue collecting her travel items she would need for the trip, but she needed to talk to someone since Norma and Graham both suggested to her to accept Charisma’s deal.

  “It’ll launch your career in a more serious direction,” Norma had said.

  “It’ll make you a bankable commodity,” Graham had offered.

  Tassia could only see herself playing second fiddle to another star, a bigger star, a country star, a former colleague as she had once called him. The country part really didn’t bother her. She did wonder if he would use her like a stage prop like Aaron had used her during their last show. Maybe after all these years, Hyde saw her as a valuable commodity, not for her talent, but for wrangling in more fans, which would mean more money.

  “Fine. After the last show, I went to Charisma to meet with Chantel and Truman.” Tassia crossed her arms.

  India wagged her finger at her. “No. Call them what the media calls them. Trutel.” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  Tassia hated the hybrid names the media dubbed celebrity couples. It came off as lazy and as though the two people shared one brain.

  “Anyway, they proposed a project to me.” Tassia curled her toes under her foot and peered down for a moment before sharing the news. “They wanted me to do a duets album.”

  India blinked. “That’s awesome. With Chantel?”

  Tassia shook her head.

  India cocked her head. “With Truman?”

  “Close, but not him either.” Tassia moved back into the bathroom to gather her toiletries. The more she thought about the offer, the angrier she started to get.

  “Close? Does that mean they wanted to pair you up with another man?” When Tassia didn’t answer right away, India filled in the blanks. “A white male singer?” Tassia started to answer, but India continued. “A white male country singer?”

  With items in hand, Tassia strolled out of the bathroom. “Ding, ding, ding. Give that girl a prize.”

  “Really?” India crossed her arms. “Interesting.”

  “I know.” Tassia dumped the items in her makeup bag that would go in her suitcase.

  “I’m trying to imagine your sound. Would you be singing country songs or would he be singing R&B?”

  Tassia spoke as she went back to her closet. “I wondered the same thing.” She pulled out a couple of long maxi dresses and a few pairs of strappy sandals. “I told them that radio wouldn’t know where to put our music, which means we would be destined to flop.”

  When Tassia looked at her friend, she noticed how much she blinked.

  “Wait. You didn’t tell Trutel that, did you?” India held up her hand.

  “Will you call them by their real names? And, yes, I did share my feeli
ngs with them.” Without care on how her clothes landed in the suitcase, Tassia tossed them inside while India groaned. “What? I’ve been around the industry long enough to know what’s up.”

  “So have I. I know that when an offer is made, you don’t turn it down no matter what.” India jumped off the bed and approached Tassia. She held her by her shoulders to make Tassia look at her. “I’ve seen flashes in the pans come and go all the time. I dress them and listen to newbies talking about doing whatever they want and walking away from deals like they’re going to stay rich forever.” India shook her head. “You of all people should know better.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tassia cocked her head and waited to hear what her friend had to say.

  “You’ve been up to bat twice already. Once with the TV show and now with your Charisma contract. You know that a lot of opportunities don’t come around that often. Charisma is a good label. You’ve worked steadily for them for years.” She looked around Tassia’s bedroom. “You’re in a sweet-ass condo down at the Oceanfront. I don’t know many people your age who have it like that. You should have said yes to any offer given to you.”

  Tassia shook her head. “Easier said than done. I walked in there for my meeting and heard that some singer they signed a couple of years ago is working on her album. Solo album. That should have been me.”

  “You can’t compare your trajectory to anyone else’s.”

  Tassia stomped into her walk-in closet and opened a drawer in her center island to pull out some undergarments. “That would be fine if she was even considered for it, but I guess she got discounted for her lack of experience. But good ol’ Tassia will do it. I’m sure they thought that I wouldn’t mind playing in the background to someone else.” Tassia rubbed her head when she felt a migraine coming on hard.

  She knew she shouldn’t have started this conversation now before their trip. She wanted to talk about this once she had some liquid courage to give her some strength.

  “Will you at least tell me who you would have been singing with had you accepted the offer?” India stood in the closet doorway and watched Tassia pulling out bras and panties from her drawers.

  “Oh, that’s the best part. Hyde Love.” Tassia walked by India, but didn’t get very far before India grabbed Tassia’s arm, jostling her enough that she dropped some of her undergarments to the tan carpeted floor.

  “Whoa. Did you say Hyde Love?”

  “Indy. Girl. Take it easy.” Tassia bent over and picked up her lacy items. “Yes. You remember my Ratty Rat’s Fun Crew member, don’t you? And let’s not forget that one time I auditioned for him. I certainly can’t forget it. ‘Don’t call us. We’ll call you.’”

  India blinked hard. “For one thing, your dad pulled you out of the show, not you.”

  “I know. But even though we worked together for a year—”

  “As children.”

  “He still wouldn’t consider me as simply a back-up singer.”

  “You aren’t still hung up on that one audition, are you?” She chuckled. “Even Simon Cowell didn’t think Kelly Clarkson would be a star. Look at her.”

  Tassia shrugged before going back to her bed to pack the rest of her items. “Five or six years ago I wasn’t good enough to even sing back-up for him. Now all of a sudden he can do a duets album with me. I don’t see the lure for me.” She shook her head.

  “I do. He’s the hottest thing out there in music, not just country music. Think of him as the male version of Taylor Swift, but he’s staying true to his country roots.” India started ticking off items on each finger. “He’s sold out arenas. All of his videos go viral. Every time he drops a single or album it instantly goes to number one on Billboard’s Hot 100 chart. He’s the real deal. Look at what associating with him has done for Christina. They paired up on the TV show, and then she opened for him on one of his tours.”

  Tassia turned to India. “So just like back then, he doesn’t need me. He’s got other people willing to ride in his wagon.”

  “But you might need him. If you do the duet album with him, you’ll get—”

  “Nothing.” Tassia shook her head. “I’ll be seen as an accessory like I was when I sang that damn line in that song. I will be the ‘hook girl.’ I don’t want to be that.” She slammed her suitcase closed and zipped it up to show India that she wanted to go. “All I wanted was what they promised me when I signed with them five years ago. I wanted to record my own album. Now I’m simply some studio singer good enough to be passed around from one guy to the next.”

  “Whoa. I don’t think Chantel and Truman thought that about you when they made the offer. Maybe they were thinking of our current state of affairs right now. Maybe people need to hear two different voices and backgrounds making good music. Look at Snoop Dogg and Martha Stewart.” India laughed. “I love their cooking show. I’m sure people thought those two wouldn’t be good together. But they’ve hit pay dirt.”

  Tassia slid her feet into a pair of bedazzled flip flops. “Now you sound like Truman and Chantel.”

  India’s eyes widened. “See. They do have a plan for you. Can’t you imagine it? You do this album with the biggest star in music right now and it shoots your career out of the water. I’m not simply talking about sales. I’m talking interviews, endorsement deals, award nominations.”

  “Wait. I got you there.” Tassia wagged her finger at India. “I did some research. Hyde Love has been nominated a bunch of times, but he’s never won anything. Not one Grammy. Not an American Music Award. Nothing.” She snapped her fingers. “Wait. I take that back. He has won an MTV Music Award for Best Video I think. Or maybe it was for Best Kiss in a Video. I can’t remember.”

  “You are so salty.” India shook her head.

  “I can afford to be. I may not be a top-selling artist now, but I write great songs. If Charisma doesn’t recognize my talent, another artist or label will.” Tassia picked up her purse.

  She didn’t need Charisma to keep her career going. She had come to terms with the whole situation from this one conversation. If Chantel and Truman didn’t recognize her star power and everything she had to offer, she would go elsewhere. Then she heard India’s cackling.

  “Where are you going to go?” India grabbed her purse from Tassia’s bed.

  “I could go anywhere. I hear Section Eight is still looking for a flagship artist to launch their R&B line since they lost out on Avery.” That story had been true, but Tassia had no designs on going to that label. She didn’t want to be associated with artists who glorified killing and breaking the law.

  India’s even louder laugh sent a chill up Tassia’s spine.

  “You want to go to Section Eight? You don’t even listen to any of their current artists.” India picked up the remote to turn off the TV. Then she made good on her promise and dumped several packages of condoms in Tassia’s carryon bag.

  Tassia sighed. She would leave them. She knew once they arrived in Fiji, India would need them for herself.

  “Fine. Then I’ll freelance. I don’t just write songs for Charisma. I can write for anyone. Doing the tour gave me a great bump in my bottom line. The writing sustains me.” She glanced at the TV screen and caught the image of a host posing as a daytime talk show journalist, but who really could be categorized as a gossip. “Ugh. Turn that off and let’s go. Like you said, we need to get to the airport.”

  The faster Tassia could get her feet into some warm sand, the happier she would be.

  “I’m coming.” India paused before she uttered, “Uh-oh.”

  “What? Some respected person in entertainment or politics get their hands caught in the cookie jar again?” Tassia stood at her bedroom door as she looked at India, who kept her stare directly on the TV screen with her mouth agape.

  India only broke her attention once to peer over at Tassia, before she turned up the volume.

&n
bsp; Too curious to remain in her spot, Tassia dropped her suitcase and sauntered next to India. She spotted a picture of herself on a monitor over the male host’s shoulder. Tassia should have been given points for being able to notice anything beyond the bright, sparkly purple jacket the older man wore.

  “What’s going on? Why does he have my picture on the screen?” Tassia kept her stare on the man.

  “We all know who this woman is. If you don’t, then you haven’t heard the song of the summer, ‘Ride Me.’” The host covered his mouth before adjusting his large square glasses. “This is Tassia Hogan. Besides singing with Aaron, rumor has it that they carried on a hot, steamy affair while on the road.”

  Tassia turned to India. “That’s a lie.”

  The host continued. “She’s also known as a songwriter. At least, that’s what she wanted people to believe.”

  “What?” Tassia put her hand to her chest.

  “Turns out all the songs she claims she has written aren’t hers. She uses a ghostwriter and is taking the money and credit for each song, including ones written for that dynamic duo, Chantel and Truman Woodley.” The host let out a long, low whistle while shaking his head. “Tassia had better make friends with as many people that she can. Her world is about to be turned upside down with pending lawsuits. You can’t take credit for something you didn’t do.”

  Tassia balled her hand into a fist and wanted to punch a hole through the lying host’s face through the TV. “That’s a lie. Every word I wrote in a song came from me and only me.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe someone is trying to discredit me and my work. This is so wrong.”

  “Probably so. But with big mouths like this guy and the gossip sites out there, it won’t take long for this to spread like wildfire and your name to be mud in the industry. You know that.”

  “I’m not going to take this.” Tassia rummaged through her purse to retrieve her phone. As soon as she touched it, it rang. Seeing her manager’s name across the screen accelerated her pulse even more. “Graham, are you watching this crap?” She kept her stare on the TV.