Mahogany: The Love Drought Series

by Nako

  Porter was seething but decided to save face until after the photoshoot. Not wanting to ruin her special day, he tried to contain his anger.

  He stayed out of the way and played the background, letting Juice and the other people he hired to do their job. Once they wrapped up the shoot, he stood up and headed outside but not before telling one of the interns to let Mahogany know to meet him at the restaurant across the street.

  He was tearing a turkey burger and sweet potato fries up when she looped her arm around his waist then kissed his cheek. He didn’t react at all.

  Mahogany took the seat next to him. She exclaimed loudly, “This was the best day ever! I can get used to this.”

  She rambled for about twelve minutes on how perfect the shoot was until she realized he hadn’t said anything to her.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  He wiped his mouth and pushed the plate away.

  “Are you going to order something to eat?”

  He was mad at her, she could always tell.

  “What did I do now?” she smacked her lips and rolled her eyes, an action that resembled a bratty child. Not a grown ass woman and that’s what irked him.

  He chuckled, “What did you do now? Really? I wonder about you sometimes…for real.”

  She asked him again and that would be the last time before she dipped out. Her mood was good, and he was being salty.

  “What was the point in you being rude to Carmen, a stylist and someone that I consider family, who was doing me a favor?”

  “Did you fuck her?” That was all she wanted to know.

  Porter couldn’t believe her right now. “Carmen? My best friend’s sister?”

  He would never.

  “What does that mean? Niggas do it all the time. Trust me.”

  “Me and the niggas you know are not the same.”

  She wasn’t trying to hear that shit today. “Is that a yes or no?”

  He shook his head. “You enjoy your day today. Glad the shoot turned out well.”

  P wasn’t doing this with her.

  “Where you going?” She wanted to celebrate with him. Why was he tripping?

  “Does it matter?”

  “It do,” she spat back, quickly.

  “Mahogany, we talked last night about your nasty ass attitude. You turn around and do the same shit this morning, to someone I care about a lot. I’m fucked up about it because I came up there to surprise you and see if you liked the roses, but I run into her literally trying to get the hell out of there. She barely looked at me,” he explained to her.

  “Porter, I didn’t know she was styling me.”

  “And what? Nobody in there today were people that you knew. You’re a new artist, I keep telling you this...” He was tired of repeating himself.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  She was trying to digress from an important matter and didn’t work like that.

  “You can’t keep swiping that rude shit under the rug. You don’t want a bad name out here. People won’t work with you. Thank God, Carmen isn’t like that.”

  Mahogany breathed out a loud breath of frustration.

  “I can’t win with you,” she admitted.

  “You’re not gon’ win with yourself if you keep pushing genuine people out of the way.” He wasn’t letting her off the hook easily.

  “She was all happy and shit…I looked at her and knew you fucked her,” she sounded ignorant and was unaware.

  “If only you knew what she’s been through, you’ll understand why she smiles the way she do. Imagine having to learn how to walk or smile again. The same way I hate when people judge you without even trying to get to know you first, you’re doing her the same way and it’s not cool at all, baby.”

  They sat in silence, not saying anything to each other. She wanted to run away, and he was debating if he made a mistake by mixing business with personal. Their arguments were centered around her career and this was becoming too familiar for him.

  After she realized he wasn’t going to say anything to her, she hopped off the barstool and jetted out the door. Porter didn’t get up to chase after her. His energy was drained and honestly, he was unsure if this was something he should be pursuing right now. Needing to protect his mental health. Slowly but surely, she was oozing in his bloodstream and possessing the power to fuck up his days and alter his mood by her childish and negative antics. It was something that he promised to never let another person be able to do again. He who angered you, controlled you.

  He remained in the same spot at the bar with his mind all over the place…watching the phone ring over and over again…

  In the middle of Mahogany blowing him up like a mad woman, his barber called. His barber never called him. They mainly texted to coordinate his appointments, so he picked up out of curiosity.

  “Maurice? Everything good man?”

  “Nah, is this a bad time?” he asked, sounding a tad bit nervous.

  P had time to chat if that’s what he needed. He was used to putting his own problems to the back burner for everyone else.

  “I’m all ears. What’s good?”

  Pride was a major thing in a man’s life. Pride kept people still and stagnant due to being too proud to open their mouths and ask for help. Pride was a setback. The man with too much pride was a stubborn being. However, Maurice was left with no other choice but to put his pride to the side and call the one person he knew wouldn’t throw it in his face if he asked for a helping hand.

  “P, you know I’m a man of my word and bro, I wouldn’t be calling you right now if it wasn’t important or if I wasn’t truly in need,” he started off by saying first.

  Porter had heard this before.

  “Yeah, I know. What’s good?”

  Maurice took a deep breath. “They about to take my brownstone man.”

  He was behind on payments, had taken out a second mortgage and ultimately had been doing everything he could to hold on to it.

  “They laid my wife off a few months ago and it’s been hard on us. You know we’re raising her brother’s kids…” he went on to tell him all that they had on their plate right now and it truly sounded like a lot.

  “Damn, that’s fucked up.”

  He still hadn’t gotten around to what he wanted or needed.

  “I wanted to know if I could work out something with you. Maybe you buy the house and we rent it from you or something. This was my great-grandmother house and I can’t let it go.”

  “How much do y’all owe? Or how many months are y’all behind?”

  Maurice told him, and the amount wasn’t bad to someone like P who had plenty of money.

  “Will you be at the shop tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I’ll come see you and we can get you caught up. No biggie.”

  He heard his voice break as he held back tears.

  “God bless you, big homie.” He was so thankful. The thought of losing his house had kept him up for the past few weeks.

  “Not a problem,” he ended the conversation and then scanned through the almost twenty text messages that shorty managed to send in a record-breaking time. She swore she was bad at texting, but whenever she had to get some shit off her chest, she sure knew how to shoot them essays to his phone. He read over the cursing and her telling him how she felt versus owning up to what she did wrong. He was irritated and tired, he needed some space.

  Porter didn’t have much energy left to keep playing Superman to everyone and their problems. His cape was ready to be stowed away.

  C H A P T E R 16

  Came in the car, you gon leave in a jet – Future

  Moving to LA for the summer was the best decision she could’ve ever made. She and Kareem left Genesis behind to fend for himself. The invitation would remain open for the duration of the season, if he changed his mind. The rent and bills were paid, but he was a growing boy who was way too spoiled for his age, so she decided to only send him one hu
ndred dollars a week. Whether he smoked it up was on him. She found a summer camp that was reasonable and changed her schedule to record through the day, so she could spend her nights with her baby. Kareem was getting used to flying and such, she loved that he was able to experience new things through his own two eyes.

  A shift was needed, and it was one of those decisions that she chose to fulfil without warranting a second opinion of anyone. She moved to California for herself. No one else. The other night she read this interview that Nash, one of her favorite rappers, did a few years back after his last studio album. He said something about Cali being too fast-paced for him. Too many drugs, alcohol, lean, everything was at his beck and call. It was hard for him to stay focused and not give in to the devil’s calling.

  Mahogany grew up fast, so the things that most people allowed to deter them, honey, she had been there done that. She didn’t get caught up in the hype and wasn’t easily impressed. P had her heart and it wasn’t up for grabs. Although, the few times did she go out with the producers and engineers to get a feel for what the people were digging in the club, she was almost always approached. Because her man was so known, it was nothing for her to get a text warning her not get her ass snatched up. She never really did too much when she went out because, clearly, all eyes were on her.

  They were making great strides in their relationship and it started with more open and honest conversations. She refused to address certain situations with him and he decided to respect her decision. Porter only wanted the best for and she appreciated that. She promised him in that due time, they would delve deeper into those topics that gave her the blues, but to go there because he wanted to wasn’t happening. Being in California was rejuvenating and because the couple was often glued together like white on rice, she actually welcomed the new scene. The pad he had her in was modern and lavish. P decked it the hell out and made sure she wanted for nothing. She appreciated the distance because it made her yearn for him and when he came to visit, their time together was that more precious.

  Some people would call it running but she wanted…no, needed to be in a new environment. A refreshing was mandatory, and Cali was such a sunny place. Everyone smiled at her warmly on some cool hippie shit and she was taking it all in, day by day.

  In a pair of daisy dukes and Van’s, she strolled through the mall licking a melting ice cream cone.

  “Oh my God! That’s her!” She heard behind her.

  Mahogany turned around to see what was happening. Before she knew it a wave of people spotted her too and she didn’t know what the fuck to do.

  The ice cream cone melted down her hand as she stared at the countless people taking pictures and recording snaps of her.

  Had lil’ mama blown up? Her song was doing a lil’ something. She did have almost five hundred thousand followers on Instagram, which happened overnight. Her name was buzzing, but she didn’t think it was hot enough to be stared down in the mall. People were screaming at her, wanting selfies and all of that. Security that patrolled the malls came through the crowd and pulled her out, but she was okay with talking to her…fans.

  Wow. She had fans.

  Her song was on its way to becoming a hit, this was a testament of that.

  When she made it back to her car, she thanked the police officers before pulling off.

  As soon as she turned out of the parking lot, she pulled over to In & Out, her secret addiction when she left the studio. They had the best burgers and milkshakes in the world. Both were calorie-filled, but she loved it.

  Mahogany Facetimed her baby and he didn’t answer on the first call, so she hit em’ right back. They were past that stage where you know you had to act like you wasn’t crazy. Porter knew he was dating a pyscho and if you asked him when she wasn’t around, he loved that “I’ll kill you nigga” shit.

  “Baby, what up?” Her chocolate God was dripping sweat.

  “Bae, you at the gym?” She peeped the streets in her rearview to make sure she could veer over. The way she weaved in and out the lanes, you would’ve thought she had been in Cali her whole life versus only a month or so.

  “Yeah, what’s up?” He was breathing hard as hell.

  She asked as if she hadn’t seen him naked a million times.

  “Let me see you.”

  Distance was bittersweet for them. On the positive tip, she was able to focus, workout, hone in on her craft. The sad part about living on two different coasts was that they spent more time apart than together and she was dating the busiest man in the world.

  Porter pulled his sweaty muscle t-shirt up to his neck, flexing his abs and muscles for his boo.

  “Look at you, I need to catch up.” Shit, she was hungry now.

  He shook his head. “Nah, you perfect. I don’t want you losing no more weight. Let Kev know I said that shit.” He banged his chest.

  Mahogany wasn’t stunting what he was saying.

  “P, guess what just happened to me?”

  He didn’t guess, so she went on and gave him the story. He was so boring.

  “Ayeee the buzz is building. That mean the song is rotating. Have you heard it on the radio yet?”

  She nodded her head. “Yes, and cried like a big baby,” she admitted.

  He smiled. “Proud of you kid.”

  She was proud of her damn self. Not less than a year ago, she was running through the mall after having a play that didn’t get through. My, my, my, how things had changed.

  η

  “Now behold the lamb. The precious lamb of God.”

  He had never heard this neo-soul, Erykah Badu-ish acoustic version, but he was digging it. Church was in full worship mode this morning and it was what Porter needed. He no longer sat up top with the famous folks, he felt the Spirit up close and personal in the main vestibule. Church was becoming such a constant fixture in his schedule that he went and got nicer clothes to wear on Sundays. His suits were a regular before, but now, he was casket-sharp.

  Mahogany ordered him a pair of cuff links with his initials and he wore em’ every Sunday now. She swore that she never knew what to get him since she wasn’t balling like he was, but every single ‘thinking of you’ gift that she got him so far, he loved. He wasn’t hard to please and off the strength alone that he crossed her mind made his day. That was his baby.

  “The precious lambbbb.” Once the singer took her voice higher, he shook his head sort of forgetting that he was at church for a second. Mahogany had that effect on him. He reverted his thoughts back to Jesus Christ and lifted one hand in the air. He was really feeling this version of the song and this was his fourth time, wishing that he could record the praise and worship team. He needed to stop leaving so soon after church and have a conversation with the Pastor. Porter had an ear for music. What people didn’t know was that he was multi-talented. He could read music, play a few instruments, and put together a whole album by himself if he wanted. How he ended up in image consultant was what baffled him sometimes.

  Porter would love to have a present an idea of a live recording of a worship melody album. He could see it now on Tidal and Apple Music getting crazy streams. One thing that drew him to the church weekly now was the music. The singers had a way of ushering in the presence of God. One thing he knew he had to work on was expecting the praise and worship to get him in the mood to go to God. He heard Apostle say a few times, “Are you going to let the rocks cry out for you? Without the music hyping you up, can you give God the praise He deserves?”

  Porter bobbed his head smoothly as the drums and guitars synchronized to create a perfect harmony. It was perfect. The sound was anointed and the people on his row was in communication with Christ right now.

  “Yes God!” he said loudly, feeling a wave of glory hit him.

  Apostle took the stage and stood at the podium. “Give it to Him…no matter what your week look like…you’re still here. Give Him the praise. It didn’t break you…give Him the glory,” he said slowly with his eyes closed. This man was powe
rful. Through the week when he was flying, he now spent his time watching past sermons of his and he was intrigued.

  Porter eyes were glued to him as he walked away from the podium and down the steps leading him right into the altar.

  “I know we’re not going by the schedule right now, but if you need prayer, come, come, come.” He opened the floor for people to come down and instead of him following so many of the others, he took a seat and prayed to himself.

  When you made money, and a lot of it people assumed that you didn’t have any problems but that wasn’t true. His mental was often attacked and he dealt with anxiety. There were a lot of demons that needed to be slayed and he couldn’t do that alone. Porter remained seated though. For some reason, he felt as if other people in the church needed prayer more than he did.

  The service never moved from the altar call. Apostle’s Armor Bearer made an announcement minutes ago, letting people know that if they wanted to leave they could. No one moved. The Spirit was high. Chains were being broken. The praise and worship was on point and the cries of men and women could be heard throughout the halls of the church. The Elders, Pastors and Prophetesses were in the aisles laying hands right with Apostle. Everyone in the church seemed to be anointed. Porter felt a hand touch his head and his neck jerked back due to the force behind the palm.

  “COME FORTH!” Apostle’s voice was directly in his ear.

  “God says COME FORTH, SON! Many tables have been prepared for you. Tables that you don’t even know about, but you gotta COME FORTH!”

  He left it at that and walked off to the next person who God had led him to. Porter wondered why he always gave him small gems and left it at that…

  This was nothing but confirmation of the dreams that he had been having and his frequent thoughts about leaving Beauty By Bavay behind and walking into his calling. Porter knew that he’d been running from his purpose for far too long and it was confirmed at church. From his lips to God’s ears…

  η

  Back in NYC, and it was under unforeseen circumstances. Her man was way too concerned with what people said about her more than she was, but she kept her mouth shut as she angrily bossed the movers around.