by Nako
“Do you want kids? Your own…”
The line went silent. The blunt was burning in between her two fingers. Was this a proper conversation considering the shit he was facing right now?
“Uh yeah, I used to think about it all the time. Why? Do you think that you want…children…with me?” She knew she sounded crazy stuttering all over her words.
“Yeah, I do. Actually. That’s cool with you?”
C H A P T E R 19
Cut from a different cloth, I’m a different fabric – Kodak Black
He enjoyed basketball. The “shit-talking” was probably what he loved the most. After a long day, a game of basketball was therapeutic, followed by a cold beer.
“Ball up,” he shouted across the concrete jungle in the middle of the hood. His Maybach was parked illegally, and he had a good eye in case one of these niggas thought that they could get lucky and ride off in his shit.
Porter had a busy day, but because his baby was a priority and he was low-key in the dog house, he was doing any and everything he could to keep that pretty ass bright smile on her face. She swore that they were good, but he felt the change taking place between them.
Trust was the one thing they had from the jump and now, he was wondering if the rumors and shit getting to her. Women were coming out the wood works with text messages, screenshots of him sleeping, receipts of gifts and shit from him and his reputation of being a “mystery” was diminishing. These hoes were losing their minds. Casey was threatening to sue all of them.
Kim’s mother, Ma’Dear, reached out saying that she was completely devastated at what she’d heard from the younger people in the neighborhood that she lived in. She even cried on the voicemail that she left on his house phone.
Porter hated that they were doing this to not only him, but to the legacy of his late wife. It seemed as if he dogged her their whole marriage and that was not the case.
Porter couldn’t wait until some other stupid ass nigga messed up and they moved on to another story because his name in the limelight left him extremely uncomfortable.
Genesis turned around and irritation was etched across his face at the sight of his sister’s sugar daddy or whatever the fuck this nigga called himself being in her life. All his nephew did was talk about Porter, Porter, Porter.
People were raving over Mahogany’s new song and he liked it too. He was proud of his sister and wanted the best for her. She had always been a selfless person and made plenty of sacrifices for him over the years. It was shit that she didn’t think he knew about that she’d done to keep a roof over his head. Genesis had to figure his life out on his own, he was tired of depending on her. Mahogany would be famous famous real soon and would forget all about him, that’s how he felt these days.
“Is that a Patek?” one of his buddies asked P.
He looked down at his watch and nodded his head. “Yeah.”
He honestly forgot he had it on. He changed swiftly out of his Tom Ford suit into basketball shorts, sneakers and a Nike hoodie.
“I want one of them,” the boy said, excitedly.
Genesis wasn’t with the groupie shit; this nigga wasn’t no damn body.
“How nigga? You work at the supermarket.” He shook his head and threw the ball in the hoop. He wasn’t about to sit around and listen to them hype Porter’s head up.
“I’m out,” he announced as he picked up his JanSport book bag and headed off the court.
“Genesis, let me rap to you real quick.”
He wasn’t interested in talking to him. “I’m good.”
“Won’t hold you up for too long. Few minutes, that’s all I’m asking for.” Porter had the gift of gab. He was good at getting what he wanted out of people and ultimately, being able to convey his message in a time limit.
“Fuck you want man?” He wasn’t in the mood to hear whatever he had to say. Genesis didn’t have a daddy and it was damn sure too late for another man to be telling him what he should and should be doing.
“Respect goes a long way. I respect you, you respect me. Cool?”
He wasn’t with the cursing and shit for no reason, P had to check that shit early and was now aware of where Kareem got it from.
“I’m listening.”
He motioned for them to sit on the bench and Genesis huffed as he trekked towards the tattered bench and plopped down.
“You like your sister’s new song?”
“Yeah, I do,” he was being truthful. Mahogany had always been the shit in his eyes.
“You know the song is number three right now? We’re aiming for that number one spot.”
“I talk to her every day. You don’t think I know all of this already? She ain’t got no damn friends, so she talks my ear off on the regular,” he complained.
Porter wished that he had siblings to annoy him. People didn’t know the blessing they had in having a family.
“The route that she’s taking…. yo, she can be bigger than big, but she has to stay focused…” he started.
Genesis listened intently.
“I need you to get your shit together. Those niggas you’re running around with don’t mean you no good. She can’t tour or even do a show down south, if she’s worried about you up here.”
“I’M GOOD,” he declared.
Porter chewed on his bottom lip before checking his lil ass. “Look, I know y’all raised y’all selves but stop cutting me off. You can talk when I’m finished.”
“Who the fuck you think you talking too?” Genesis wasn’t no lil nigga.
“If you get your shit together, she’ll get hers together, if you understand what I’m saying. Do you follow me? Stop stressing her out. If you want a job, we can get you one. But you need to get back in school, graduate and do the right thing with your life. She’s working hard for you and Kareem, but in order for you to reap those benefits you gotta actually be alive. The shit you’re doing will have you dead before the year is over.”
Porter was well-connected and all it took was a phone call to Big Mo to find out what the fuck Genesis was into and who he was working for. He didn’t know people still broke into cars and stole the parts, shit was crazy.
Genesis never made eye contact with P. He had been called out and it didn’t feel good.
“We on the same page?”
Porter needed a yes so he could go. He had shit to do today.
“Yeah man, damn.”
That would work for him. “Cool. Stay safe. See you around kiddo.”
He held his hand out for a dap and Genesis took his sweet time dapping him up.
In the corner of his eye, he saw his “boss” staring at him in a truck.
Where the fuck this nigga come from? he thought to himself.
It was menacing glare and he turned his head quickly.
“I’ll catch you around.” Genesis wanted him to hurry up and leave before some shit popped off.
Porter walked across the court heading back to his car. He texted Mahogany, “Where your fine ass at?” He had to get them back on the same page and fast. She was drifting away, and he couldn’t have that.
η
“He just texted and asked me where I was, you sure he don’t know we’re meeting?” Mahogany asked Yara.
She shook her head no. “Definitely not. Maybe he misses you, y’all are still in the beginning stages so that’s how it be. Trust me.” She smiled at her, warmly.
When she received a DM from Yara’s assistant wanting to have lunch with her, the first thing that she thought to do was call Porter and it was as if the chick had Spidey senses because the second direct message was, “It’s between you and her…only.”
Out of curiosity, she sent her phone number and two days later, here they were. Yara chose the restaurant and Mahogany was still on this stupid ass diet, so she ordered a soup, salad and water with extra lemons.
She’d been checking her email every five minutes waiting for a clip or something to show her how the video turned out. She was nerv
ous as fuck and wanted to know was taking them so long to edit and get it to her.
“Who produced the video?” Yara asked.
“Avery?” she thought that was his name but wasn’t too sure.
“Great guy, he’s bomb with visuals.” Yara was quite familiar with Avery’s work. Mahogany figured she was being rude, so she put her phone away in her YSL knapsack and placed the strap behind her on the arm of the chair.
“So why did you want to meet with me?” She was never one to beat around the bush. She’d always been a straight shooter.
Yara appreciated that about her. She relaxed in her seat and tossed her long thin ponytail over her shoulder.
Mahogany studied her every move, looking for something off about her aura or slimy, but none was existent thus far. Yara gave her hippie, I’m living my best life and I’m happy as fuck vibes. She never really did too much, but you could still look at her and tell that she was rich as hell.
Today, she wore a long flowy tan dress paired with bell bottoms and boots. No makeup, no jewelry other than a Cartier wedding band and her Apple Watch.
She was on time and ate all her food before they even started talking. She kept a red journal on the table near her but hadn’t opened it as of yet.
“I like you,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.
Mahogany needed more than that, so she remained silent and allowed her to continue. She was learning to be quiet, and let people do all the talking.
“You have a raw talent that the industry is hungry for and the fact that you’re remaining true to your roots makes a you a sure stickler for success. Success in this industry means show money, advertising deals, and millions of downloads on Tidal and Apple Music,” she praised her.
“But?” There was always a but. If it wasn’t a but, she wouldn’t have asked to meet with her. Privately, at that. Without P.
“You’re in love and it’s blinding you.” That was the hard truth. It was a lesson that Yara hated to learn, but one she’ll never forget.
“Excuse me?” Mahogany was still fresh off the block.
“Listen, we’re more alike than you think.”
“Why? Cus you from the hood?” She hated when people said that shit to her.
“No, because I was once young and naïve. I put my all into my ex-husband-
Mahogany was aware of what went down between her and her ex and how she did almost ten years behind him and blah, blah, blah. The history lesson wasn’t needed. Since then, Yara’s moved on, remarried and is now rich as fuck.
“I know your story, what does that have to do with me and P?” She was heated, and it showed.
Yara lifted a hand in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “I’m not here to pull you from him, nor am I here to talk down on him. P is one of my most trusted friends and he’s amazing at what he does,” she cleared that up, immediately.
“So again, why are we here?”
“I wanted to put you up on game. I’m sure you’re a smart girl. I want you to watch your money closely. Don’t leave everything in someone’s else hands because you love them, and you think that you trust them. Sometimes people will give us a little and we think it’s a lot. When really, you’re making more than that, sometimes even quadrupled.”
Mahogany relaxed a tad and the attitude from her face subsided, and so Yara continued.
“Has he broken down to you how streaming works? And how often the checks come in and what’s his cut? Do you know that?”
She remained silent, somewhat stumped.
“Are you owning your masters?”
Nothing still came from her mouth…
“Are they claiming that you’re writing your own raps? Was there anyone that helped you even a lil’ bit and if so, did that person sign a non-disclosure?”
Mahogany slammed her hands on the table, stating, “I get it.” She fucking got it.
Yara challenged her, “Do you? It’s so many artists that fall victim to good dick and be looking stupid at the end of the year when all they have is a new whip and a few purses.” She was only speaking from experience.
Her body was shaking. She’ll be damned if a nigga plays her.
“I’m not no dumb ass bitch.” She wanted that to be known.
“Never said you was.”
“I’m going to see about my money and stuff.”
Yara nodded her head. “As you should.”
“When you said I should own my masters? What does that mean?” she knew she probably sounded stupid, but she didn’t care. Closed mouths didn’t get fed and she needed to know the ins and outs of the industry. She planned on learning all that she could in the present moment from Ms. Yara.
“You got somewhere to be?” she questioned.
Mahogany shook her head.
“Cool. Okay so a standard contract, which I’m sure you don’t even have, is ideal for you. Most artists sign a 360 deal, I hate these…” She opened that red journal and turned it around to show Mahogany some figures.
“You always want 60% of your money off the top. I don’t care if you just saying, ‘hey, my name is Keke’. You want your money up front.”
She turned the page. “Whenever you do a show, you want 10% of the bar.”
Mahogany mentally recorded everything that she was telling her.
They spent the next four hours going over everything a new artist should’ve been told from the beginning and all she could think about once she got back in her car was why Porter never shared his information with her.
η
Porter signed some Australian guy group and apparently, they were a big deal. Mahogany had never heard of them, but her baby was happy, so she was too. They popped bottles and were served fancy food that she opted out on at one of the private rooms in the building where Beauty By Bavay was housed. She was at the dessert table looking for something that didn’t have as many calories, which was sort of not realistic.
“The trick is to take a bite and spit it out.” The voice didn’t sound familiar, which technically no one’s voice other than Juice or P’s would since she didn’t know anyone here. Tonight, she wasn’t here as an up and coming rap artist, but as her man’s girlfriend. Support was everything and she’d forever be his number one cheerleader because the energy and love was reciprocated.
She looked up and Carmen was standing before her.
“Hey.” Mahogany knew she needed to work on her tone. The greeting was dry and laxed.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, a while back,” Carmen wanted to make it right and being the bigger person was her middle name.
Mahogany’s face softened as she admitted, “I agree, and I apologize for assuming that there was more going on between you and P. I’m working on that…”
Carmen understood completely.
“You got one of the good guys and we’re family. I don’t look at him like that, trust me.”
The word trust was where she struggled in friendships and allowing people to get close to her was a no-no. Juice was relatable. Munch was her guy, but these bitches… Mahogany was good on em’.
“I’m a work in progress, girl. Pray for me.” She laughed it off.
She wasn’t perfect. Carmen wasn’t either, that’s what Mahogany didn’t know.
“Can we hug it out?”
They hugged, and it felt good to clear the air. The last three times they saw each other out, it was nothing more than a dry hello.
Mahogany went to church with P for the first time and they were invited to brunch with the rest of the gang. She opted out and went home with Kareem instead. Porter was slightly embarrassed, and Carmen told herself the next time she saw Mahogany she would clear the air.
“I love your song by the way. Girl, it’s been on repeat!” she praised her.
“Thank you. I’m so ready for the freaking video to drop…”
Juice came up, interrupting their moment. “You checked your email?”
She shook her head and then a light bulb went off in
her head as she began to jump up and down.
“It’s done?” she began to freak out.
Juice smiled. “Yep, P pulled it up on the big screen. Come on.”
She didn’t want to take away from the highlight of the evening.
“Let’s watch it alone,” she suggested out of fear in case she looked like a damn fool.
Carmen told her, “Girl, please. We all want to see it.”
They followed Juice into a room and on ninety-inch projection screen was a paused video.
“You ready?” P asked her with a pleased smile on his face.
She had one of her fingers crossed behind her back as she nodded her head, giving him the green light to press play.
Four minutes later, everyone was raving on how hot and sexy the video was and all she could do was ask herself constantly, “Is this fucking real?”
The video was perfect, and it would only kill the rumors of her not being able to do it all. They were expecting Mahogany to flop, but this was only the fucking beginning. She was here to stay.
η
“Can I ask you something?”
It was rare that they woke up to each other, being that both of their schedules were extremely packed these days.
“Yeah baby, what’s up?” He was half-listening, whereas she’d woke up a few minutes ago. Porter had worked out, ate breakfast, did two conference calls and was now checking an update on his stocks and investments that his financial advisor sent over.
“Do you have enough power or money to get my mom out of jail? I’ll pay you back…” she added.
Porter put his iPhone on the nightstand and rolled over to her. “HUH?” He wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly.
“Maybe I’m saying it wrong…”
She was in her head a lot, constantly assuming that she didn’t sound smart. Porter told her, “What did I tell you about that?” He wasn’t with that insecure shit and the fact that it came out of nowhere irked him. Before the buzz started to build, she was still his feisty firecracker, but now she was antsy…wanting to be perfect and he wanted her to remain who she was. Porter was all for her aiming for perfection and striving for excellence in all that she wanted to do, but now if you had to change or even alter slightly who you were.