Rockstar Savages

by Dixon, Ja'Nese

  Money changed everything.

  Jamal sat back in his plush chair behind an oversized executive desk as his eyes roamed the terrain of his office. The space was neat and efficient with no photos, no plaques, no degrees. But he spared no expense on his computer, his chair, or his filing cabinets.

  He embraced the digital age, but he could back all his financial decisions with a clean paper trial. Investments, contracts, invoices, ledgers. His business partners trusted him with millions of decisions worth billions of dollars.

  As a result, he spent endless hours in front of a computer screen pouring over documents. The numbers had to make dollars, or it didn’t make sense. So his space wasn’t cozy, and it didn’t compare to the others, but it suited him. He had what he needed. A desk, chairs, a conference table, and a couch when work required long nights.

  Jamal watched every cent for three years, inching closer to the billionaire mark. People said the first millionaire was the hardest to achieve. That was easy compared to that last million.

  Today, he was under by six figures. Nothing to be concerned about but it wasn’t what he wanted to see.

  “Midas, got a second? I need to talk numbers with you.”

  Jamal glanced up at Cameron Carter, his business partner, mentor, and friend, standing in the doorway with up a handful of papers.

  “Sure married man. What are you still doing here?” Jamal pushed away from the computer, walking over to hug him. Jamal ended it with a solid pat on Cameron’s back. “Have a seat.”

  Cameron lead their unconventional team with vision, purpose, and enough ingenuity to let the six partners thrive under his leadership. Jamal learned more and more from Cameron concerning business, he learned to listen when Cameron talked, and move when Cameron moved. Well, Him and Damian Hughes.

  Damian and Cameron were responsible for the bulk of Jamal’s fortune. They taught him more than he learned in college or graduate school. And Jamal had an Ivy League education.

  Cameron dropped in the chair. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “So tell me, how did she manage to take down the king of this here castle?”

  “Maaannnn,” Cameron leaned back, crossing his leg over his knee, “honestly I should have know after hearing the first note. Part of me wanted it, but never in a million years did I want to be in a relationship with an artist.”

  “That’s kind of hard, given our profession. All you do is mingle with music executives and artists.” Jamal reasoned.

  “True, but it’s business. I’m there to find the hidden gold. I let all the other stuff go in one ear and out the other.”

  “Until Sydney…”

  “Yeah, she opened her mouth and her soul latched on to mine and wouldn’t let it go.”

  “Shit, that’s deep.”

  “You ain’t never lied.”

  The two laughed and Jamal couldn’t hold back his curiosity.

  “No offense, but why Sydney?” Cameron’s facial expression hardened, so Jamal continued. “She’s beautiful and perfect for you. But I never thought you’d get married. Marques, no doubt. He’s romance, flowers, but he was always a one woman kind of man.”

  Jamal thought of the others snagged by love. “Bruce too. Sandi had him the moment she told him no.”

  Cameron laughed. “Had Bruce nose opened, he was bussing tables and making coffee. But she’s good for him. She grounds him. The magnitude of his success is because he has Sandra by his side.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Is what it?” Cameron asked.

  “You said, Bruce has done more with Sandra by his side. Is that why marriage seems to…” Jamal ran a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

  Jamal searched his mind for words to express himself, because for the life of him, he didn’t get it. Why would men who had everything the world could offer, money, power, fame, limit themselves to one woman?

  Cameron’s intent gaze searched the innards of Jamal’s mind. “Jamal you have to understand we are the marrying kind. It’s what we know. It’s how we were raised, as kids out father drilled into us the role of a man. That of a protector, provider, husband, and father. So, Marques and I knew one day we’d meet a woman. Yeah, we met a lot of women to get to the woman. But Pops told us, ‘The right woman will make you want to be the right man to have her.’”

  “That sounds like your Pops.” Jamal smiled at the thought.

  “Uncle Jared proposed to Aunt Helene the first night they met. Bruce, like his father, knew the moment he met Sandra that she was the one. So, he stayed here and built a life to prove it.” Cameron dropped his leg to the floor, propping his forearms on the edge of the desk. “For you, I think it will be different.”

  “I’ve heard the stories, but I have no desire to settled down. I’m not interest.” He waved his hands in surrender before Cameron planted a single seed in his mind. “I have more of the world to see. More to achieve. I’m fine with me, myself, and I. I’ll leave the wives and munchkins to you guys.”

  Cameron laughed so hard Jamal wondered what he said. “That’s what we all thought.”

  “But you just said…”

  “Yeah, we knew one day but none of us was ready when we found them. Privilege breeds access. I had women checkin’ for me before I had hair on my chin. And I was not ready to give up my unlimited supply of delicacies, if you know what I mean.”

  Jamal nodded. He knew, and knew well.

  “But I also knew, before I was fully ready, that I’d do anything for Sydney. Even when I thought I’d lost her.”

  Cameron’s somber tone reached the pit of Jamal’s gut. That was a hard time for them all.

  “I’ve decided to drink only bottled water.” Jamal laughed. “Because there’s something in the water.”

  “Nah…” He eyes glazed over and a silly expression crossed his face. Full smile, goo-goo eyes, the works. Jamal knew the look. He’d seen it on Bruce, Damian, and now Cameron.

  “Sydney’s not here. Save that love stricken gaze for her.”

  “Shut up! Man…I recall one day, years ago, Bruce cursed me.” Cameron shook his head at the memory. “He said, one day a woman would come and turn my world inside out. And she did. Syd is turning my life inside out, upside down. Hell, half the time I don’t know if I’m coming or going.” The dreamy look returned to his face. “And I’m loving the ride. One day—”

  “No sir. Don’t throw that marriage virus over here. Keep it to yourself.” Jamal waved his hands to stop the direction of Cameron’s thinking. “Just consider me a loss cause.”

  Cameron laughed until tears rolled out of his eyes. Sydney was good for him. He was never an uptight person. But he was so…focused. He had tunnel vision and Jamal wondered how their future as a brand would change as Cameron’s vision expanded to include a wife, and one day a family.

  “So, when are you leaving, before you try to marry us all off? Because Devin and I need to build our strength to resist this wifey takeover.”

  “I guess we are dropping like dominos. But they say if you can’t beat’em, join them.”

  “Oh hell nah! Sydney…Syd…please come get your man.” Jamal called out over Cameron’s robust laughter. “Congratulations again. I think you two will do big things together.” Jamal smiled, ready to move on, “So, watcha got on your mind?”

  Cameron’s laughter died down. “Yeah, yeah, always about that time. I’m hoping to get out of here this week. But I’ve been thinking. We have three artists Marques, Syd, and Isaac’s Band. I want to double by the end of next year.”

  Jamal nodded. “That’s possible. But remember with Isaac, you have to consider his band members. Then we have Marques heading out on another tour. And I’m sure Lady Bird will want to tour as well. Tours bring dancers, crews, venues, promoters, lights, security.” He rested his elbows on the desk. “So, you’ll have expenses coming from all directions.”

  “That’s the cost of being in business. My question is can we do it? Be
tter yet,” Cameron’s voice dropped, “How can we make it happen? No cut corners. Not playing small.”

  “Never.”

  “We’ve made a splash in this crowded pool. Now I want to make a wave.”

  “No doubt.” Jamal sat back running through figures in his mind. “How long are you honeymooning?”

  “A month.”

  “Ahhhh….don’t come back with no babies.”

  “I can’t make no promises.” Cameron popped up bumping Jamal’s fist across the desk.

  Laughter filled the room again. Jamal had no siblings but he imagined this was the closest thing to it as their laughter died down. Mutual respect and the willingness to grow together.

  “Enjoy your honeymoon, and I’ll have the figures when you return.”

  “That’s what I want to hear.” Cameron wore his money smile. The one reserved for interviews and closing deals. He stood glancing at his watch. “Last order of business, Friday at 10 am I need to get all the guys together before we fly out.”

  Jamal glanced at his calendar, adding the meeting. “You got it.”

  “Cool, I’m out.” Cameron walked to the door. “Family…”

  “Over fame.”

  * * *

  Jamal worked until the lights in the office dimmed leaving him alone in the executive wing of the building. The other side held the studio and those guys went into sunrise. But he did his best work alone. The cleaning crew came and left. His office now smelled of an awkward fusion of pine cleaning supplies and the Mexican food he had delivered for dinner.

  Jamal scanned his checklist scribbled on a yellow notepad listing the information he needed to update their current financial statements. He sent emails to Brione, Marques’ manager, for the updated tour expenses. He pulled the files for Sydney’s album expenses, and he scheduled a meeting with Devin to review the marketing and promotions budget for her release campaign. The last order of business would be connecting with Damian tomorrow concerning the status of their construction projects.

  Jamal massaged the kinks in his neck as he organized the documents on his desk in neat stacks ready to call it a night. His conversation with Cameron never strayed too far from his mind.

  His business partners and friends were different. They’d lived rather glamorous lives, whereas he had to fight for survival. To them, kids were cherished, in his world, kids were a paycheck.

  Thinking of kids he typed a quick email to schedule meetings with Harmony Dance and Juanita’s Casa. He wanted to include them in the financial projection for Cameron.

  Jamal stood walking across the room, turning off the final light in the executive wing. Joining as a partner at RSE taught him a sense of brotherhood. But Jamal was a loner. A nomad.

  He’d always had restless feet trying to out run his restless soul. A part of him searching for a slice of normalcy.

  Jamal purchased houses in Houston, New York, and London. He filled them with the best. All the things he dreamed about, he imposed no limits. And he thought owning them would calm the restlessness, but it didn’t.

  He had no vices that could attach him to his old life. Drugs, alcohol, womanizing, none of them held the slightest interest. Jamal had to be in control at all times. He never wanted to make a move that could jeopardize what he’d built. The only things that came close to grounding Jamal was becoming a black billionaire—which he did—and staying clear of intimate relationships.

  His boys were cool. Cameron, Damian, Bruce, Marques, and Devin had roles, and they all worked to benefit the team. Their partnership worked.

  But love, the kind that crawled inside his chest, planting a seed of forever in his heart, only to snatch all hope like yanking out unwanted weeds, that he could do without it and he planned to avoid love, at all costs.

  Chapter 3

  “I’m not sure I like the direction of this outfit.” Carmela turned side to side in the mirror. She liked the hoodie, it was the rest that gave her pause. “This is a little too sexy.”

  Tonight Nicole worked late for a wine and whine session but only after fitting the new costumes for Friday’s show. These sessions were woman code for Help! armed with plenty of wine, and usually in pajamas. And Carmela needed it.

  The week of rehearsals flew by, she and the choreographer bumped heads the entire week. Richard begged her to go along, to take one for the team. But Carmela’s go-with-the-flow demeanor went out the window the moment the heel-clad dancers started twerking.

  “Live a little La. You have a bangin’ body. Do you know who I’d kill to get those abs?” Nicole, her best friend and stylist, stepped closer looking at the mirror.

  “Girl hush. I’ll give you my abs in exchange for some of that butt.” Carmela made her butt bounce like the dancers did on Saturday.

  “Please stop.” Nicole whined, covered one eye, and peaked out the other.

  “You betta open your eyes because you’re about to miss the best part of my expensive dance lesson.” Carmela dropped her hands to her knees and popped her back.

  “You’re lyin’ La!”

  “I wish. What was Richard thinking?” Carmela shook her head in disgust, turning back to the mirror, appreciating the fabric Nicole selected. “Nicki, what am I supposed to do with fifteen, twerking, naked women? You know the majority of my fans are men.” Carmela did like the fit of the pants. “They’ll think I’m presenting a strip show and start making it rain on the stage.”

  Nicole howled.

  “Then my father will demand a remix.” Carmela dropped the octave of her voice mimicking her father. “Now for our next single, ‘Who Dat Makin’ It Rain in Da Club.’” Carmela bounced her little butt for good measure knowing it would send Nicole over the edge.

  Nicole doubled over to the carpeted floor, holding her stomach, gasping for air.

  “Lala stop or we won’t get these alterations done.”

  “All right, I’ll behave. Back to work.”

  Carmela gave Nicole free reign on this show’s looks not expecting this. Letting her handle the concert looks gave Carmela one less thing to worry about.

  Carmela examined her reflection. The outfit covered her body. She had a rule of thumb for her performance wear, she showed either her midriff or her legs. But never her cleavage.

  The current hip hop climate had few top female artist and the most popular ones used their bodies as part of their branding. Fortunately, she’d sidestepped that issue, probably due to starting so young, which was a blessing and a curse.

  “Stop frowning.” Nicole pushed up from the floor. “I kept your signature look with an update. I hand sewed the crystals on the bustier. And the sleeves pay homage to NOLA.”

  Who dat ran the length of one sleeve.

  “Then instead of your baggie pants, I made these dancer jeggings with matching crystal enhanced pipping.”

  “You did a exquisite job, it’s just—”

  “Different.”

  Carmela nodded, meeting her eyes in the mirror. The extra details made her feel extra sexy.

  “There’s nothing wrong with different La. It’s time you showed everyone that you’re a grown ass woman. And then maybe we’ll find you a man.”

  “I can’t handle the men I have. And for the record, my grown ass is #adulting and I got the receipts to prove it. And wait a minute…what does having a man always get tagged on?”

  “Because La, your life is one massive torturous work bubble?” Her arms opened to the size of an massive beach ball.

  “Did you make that up on the fly?”

  “Yes, but it works.” Nicole stuck out her tongue in the mirror.

  Carmela ran a hand along the crystals. It really was beautiful.

  “La, aren’t you tired of doing the same thing, trying to get a different result? For once, do the unexpected. Try not being the one responsible for everyone one. Have fun for a change.”

  “I can’t. And the last time I asked for different Richard hired professional twerkers.” Carmela teased.

 
Laughing was better than thinking about the life she didn’t have. This was her life. Nicole stood and pulled on the fabric, cocking her head to the side. Then she placed a straight pin.

  No sense in shoulda, woulda, coulda’s. She had to store them for another day. Because somewhere between her love of music and her first real pay check as an artist the lines between family and fame blurred. And with her family she emerged with the short end of the stick.

  “Your dad has a…” Nicole swirled her hand in the air, as if reaching for the right words, “colorful imagination. But he does it because he wants to see you succeed.”

  “Yeah…tell me about it.”

  The moment her father went from Daddy to Richard, her life changed again and she’d give it all back to have her old family. Instead Carmela worked and they played with her money.

  Nothing about her life was fun, except the stage and dressing up in Nicole’s costumes.

  “Nicki, you did a fantastic job!”

  Nicole stopped pinning and smiled. “Thank you La. And don’t worry so much.”

  Nicole walked over to the cutting table and grabbed the white tailors chalk. This room served as Carmela’s dressing room and storage for all of her customs. It was also Nicole’s space to work on the garments needed for her nonstop tour schedule. Every new show required new costumes.

  Carmela commissioned the design of this workspace. Richard ensured that it exceeded her expectations. The room was outfitted with several industrial sewing machines, a serger, an embroidery machine, and an oversized cutting table. She had enough fabric along the wall to open a shop. Carmela wanted to make it easy for Nicole to throw together a new outfit on short notice, like this week.

  “Is that how you turned the celebratory show into a full-blown concert?” Nicole said around the straight pins held between her lips. She removed one, pinning the back of the top, playing with the shape.

  “Yes, three songs turned into eighteen.”