Nice Guys Don't Finish Last

by Brown, Chavez

  “Meeemmmooorrrriiiieeessss fade awaaayyyy,” I belted over a middle C sustaining the phrase into the second octave. “But nice guys don’t finish lasttt.”

  Ensuing the ending, Roger clapped like a proud father witnessing his son slam dunk a ball for the first time, as I remained coy of my new masterpiece.

  “I love it, I love it a lot! I think you should keep this song for yourself, sounds really good,” he said.

  “Naw, I think I am going to give away. Give me that money,” I laughed.

  “Okay, well I would like to hear how this other guy sings. I think his name is Delroy Barr, I heard he is a good vocalist,” he said.

  “We will see,” I bit my tongue to avoid another “You need to be humble” speech followed by a prominent knock on the door.

  “Mr. Bennett, there is a guest waiting to see you,” the female receptionist said standing in the doorway.

  “Okay, send him in,” Roger smiled as the receptionist headed back out to get the singer as we anticipated his entrance; we sat at the table drinking bottled waters. About sixty seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Roger greeted.

  “Hello, how are you guys doing today,” the chocolate young man said as he pranced into the room wearing a Balmain trench coat… surprisingly the real brand & not a knock off. Where did he get money to afford Balmain? He was definitely a queen!

  “Hey, how are you? I am Nico,” I said shaking his hand. “And this is my mentor, Roger.”

  “How are you,” Roger asked reaching his hand to shake the young fellows.

  “I am great, nice to meet you two. My name is Delmar Boar,” he said shaking his hand.

  “Oh, my assistant told me your name was Delroy Barr. I think she had a mix-up, forgive me on that,” Roger said.

  “Oh that’s okay. Well, what is the name of the demo & when can I hear it? I’m excited,” he said.

  “It is entitled ‘Nice Guys Don’t Finish Last’… I can play it for you now,” I answered visibly glowing & could not wait to observe & hear Delmar’s reaction to the song.

  “So Much Better Featuring Delmar”

  The music filled the room, as I nodded my head in admiration. The melody is vivacious, and the piano chord is one of the most original pieces in a while. The song was a complete opposite from my gospel roots; a risk venturing off into a direction my parents will rebel against.

  What could be worse than Kelly Price’s attempt to burst into the R&B scene with the awareness her voice was built for gospel. I debated giving the song a try, but the descant is dreamy & the lyrics are mind-grabbing.

  “So what do you think,” Nico asked after the song finished with a blank smile on his face. He was really handsome, and had an uncanny resemblance to a thinner version of Brian White, the hot piece of dick from “Stomp the Yard”.

  “I love it! The song is different, especially for me,” I expressed drinking, a complimentary bottled water on the table. I was enthralled by Nico’s glossy, caramel skin that shimmered like he bathed in a tub of hot butter.

  “Well we are happy you enjoyed the song-,” Roger & Nico said simultaneously. They almost sound rehearsed. “So when are we going to record the song? I am ready,”

  I threw a hand gesture in the air.

  “Well, I would love to work on it today. But I must leave

  pretty soon! I have a date tonight,” Nico tapped Roger on the

  side of his leg with his finger, Roger nudged him back. “Oh, you got a girlfriend,” I said.

  “Yup, three years,” Nico said beating the table with his

  fingers and giving a fake smile.

  “Oh okay. So about this song, I don’t mind remaking the

  song myself and adding extra harmonies because they could be

  worked on a bit,” I said as Roger quickly turned his head and

  cleared his throat.

  “What are you inferring about the harmonies,” Nico

  asked offensively.

  “I am not implying anything. However, I believe I can

  add soul to the song. It needs more oomph.”

  “Oh really? I would like to hear this. Wouldn’t you,

  Roger,” Nico asked Roger.

  “Whoops, I think it is three thirty, Nic! I don’t want you

  to miss your date with Abd—Abigail,” Roger said as he stood up

  from the table and Nico followed. The pair obviously hid

  something, but I could not put my finger on what. It is apparent

  Ms. Nico is one of the ‘girls’, but he seems like a person you

  have to keep four eyes on.

  “Yeah, well Delmar, it was nice to meet you,” Nico

  shook my hand hesitantly and my Clark Kent beams gazed

  through the fakeness behind those pearly whites.

  “Nice to meet you too,” I lied as he walked away & I

  proceeded behind him for Ty to pick me up!

  ….

  “Hey cunt,” Tyrell said as I opened the car door. “I told you to stop calling me that,” I smiled as I put on my seatbelt.

  “Whatever, so what’s the tea,” he asked.

  “It was a listening session. I think the songwriter was offended because I told him I can add more soul to the song than he did.”

  “Delmar, that was kind of shady”.

  “It’s the truth! The vocals were cute if you want your little sister to fall in love. But I think my vocals could make a grown man cry.”

  “Oh girl, here you go! So what did he ‘give’, was he cute,” he asked.

  “Yeah, he was okay. I do not think we are going to like each other much though,” I said as we both witnessed Nico conversing with Roger outside dressed in a fitted Cockpit jacket. “Nico is talking to the older white guy,” I pointed through the glass window.

  “That is him? Delmar, he is beyond gorgeous. He looks like a skinnier version of that guy from---.”

  “Stomp the Yard, I know,” I finished his sentence rolling my eyes.

  “Chile, you do not have taste. How can you say he is okay looking? He looks even better than the ol’ boy from last night. Speaking of him, did he call you yet?”

  “Actually he did! We spoke for two seconds; he claims his job blocks the number out.”

  “The job blocks the numbers out? What kind of bullshit is that? I told you that bastard was in a relationship. I suggest you hook up with the songwriter guy.”

  “Ty, no! I am not attracted to him.”

  “He looks like he would be faithful. But he give me versatile bottom though, do you think he is gay,” Tyrell asked as he turned the engine on and placed his foot slightly on the gas to exit out of the parking.

  “I get the impression he is. But I heard him say he had to meet up with his girlfriend, and it seemed like Roger almost slipped a guy’s name out. I don’t know though. Besides, he’s not my type! What could we possibly do? Paint each other’s nails,” I pursed my lips.

  ….

  I finally arrived to my five bed room home in the Milford Mill area to see my mother’s 2009 Lexus IS 350 in the driveway. It was unusual for her to be home early, so I became slightly exasperated.

  “Delmar, get your behind in this kitchen,” her screechy voice towered throughout the house. “Yes ma’am,” I answered as I sat my jacket on the back of the stool at the kitchen table.

  “So what is this I hear about you being in some club in the city,” she asked with her hands on her hips.

  “Yes, mama. I went to Eden’s Lounge to perform a few songs for the crowd,” I lied as my heart practically jumped outside of my chest.

  “But I heard it was no church folks in there, it was ALL homosexuals,” she enunciated clearly.

  The heat from the stove top suddenly grew hot, while the hair on my neck rose like grass. The only thing missing is balloons for my “coming out” party.

  “Just the Two of Us Featuring Abdul”

  The evening stars bloomed as I stationed at ou
r Inner Harbor Loft, and realized Nico’s car was not in the parking lot. Therefore, I could prepare a meal for the two of us and watch a movie a horror movie from the Red Box.

  I paced back & forth in the apartment, considering if I ought to inquire how long he would be gone or play the night by ear. I pulled my phone out of my pocket & pressed the call button on his name.

  “Hello,” Nico answered after the second ring. “Hey babe! How long are you going to be?” “I don’t know, perhaps an hour or so. Why?” “No reason, you normally get home before I do,” I

  replied.

  “You are up to something. You better not have any r

  boys in my house, Abdul,” he laughed.

  “Ok I will. He’s on his way, a buff guy named Sandra.

  And he has big tits with a huge schlong,” I said.

  “Yeah, Sandra sounds like a hot he/she. We should

  engage in a threesome with shim that would be hot.” “Nah, I would watch you two,” I laughed as Nico sucked

  his teeth and laughed along.

  “Well, I think I’m bout to run to Wal-Mart and Sam’s

  Club to get a few things. I’ll be home shortly and make sure you

  look up some movie times for “The Last House on the Left” I

  heard it’s better than the original,” Nico said.

  “I hope so because the original sucked ass, yet

  supposedly scary. The same goes for that weak ‘Exorcist’ shit

  you forced me to watch.”

  “Do not go there! The ‘Exorcist’ is a classic,” Nico

  laughed.

  “What is classic about a white bitch spinning her head

  around,” I asked.

  “Because the events happened in real life, Abdul,” he

  laughed.

  “Well on that note, I’ll see you when you get home.

  Love you,” I said as a smile graced my face.

  “Talk to you later,” he replied.

  “Ouch. No love you’s or anything,” I asked as my smile

  quickly disappeared.

  “Bye Abdul,” he hung up in my ear, which did not

  surprise me because the antic became a reoccurring theme song.

  How could you say “I love you” in the morning, but not say the

  same in the evening? If I approached him about the problem, it

  would only cause deeper conflict.

  I walked into the kitchen to prepare the salmon I left in

  the refrigerator to thaw. The lukewarm water rinsed the fish, while I sprinkled all the seasons into a bowl including: basil leaves, lemon juice, oregano, Old Bay, lemon pepper seasoning and a pinch of margarine. Lemon pepper salmon with brown rice and fresh steamed broccoli is Nico’s favorite dish, therefore the

  presentation is important.

  As I left the fish to bake, the rice & broccoli to boil, I

  decided to freshen up. I ran the shower for at least three minutes

  to catch some heat, and entered the tub emoting confidence. The

  suds splashed like a current wave pressed against a rock. Then--

  the electricity turned off. I got out of the shower and dried

  myself off with the towel I left sitting on the toilet seat. Thank

  God I have a gas stove because the sun shined through the

  window, enough for me to see what’s going on. I walked into the

  kitchen to see the food still cooking, and as soon as I left the

  kitchen, the lights turned back on.

  ….

  An hour later, Nico finally arrived home to see the entire house lit with Vanilla scented candles circulating. The dining room table was decorated with white cloths and eating utensils. In the center, two champagne glasses with Chardonnay sat.

  “Hey baby. I’m glad to see you’re finally home,” I said walking into the dining room area with two plates of food in my hand.

  “Awww, you did this for me,” Nico asked with a smile glazing cross his face and holding Wal-Mart bags in the both of his hands.

  “Yeah, I did. Sit those bags in the kitchen and I’ll put everything up for you later. I just want you to have a seat and eat dinner,” I smiled as I pulled the chair from the table and he smiled taking a seat.

  “This is really nice, Abby. I need to take a shower though, I feel dirty.”

  “Baby, I don’t care about that,” I said starting the “We Make Love” playlist on my iTunes with none other than Anita Baker’s “Sweet Love”.

  “Well I do. I’ve been running around all day and I’m probably sweaty.”

  “Taste the salmon, it’s your favorite,” I changed the subject as he finally sliced a piece of the fish with his knife and fork, allowing it to absorb in his mouth.

  The music resonated throughout the dining room as we sat across from each other, while I gazed deeply into his eyes. His senses smiled at mine, as I bit my lip lusting after from his slim, swimmer’s body. The mood was similar to our second date back in 2006, I can’t say the first because it was disastrous and I never thought we would make it this far!

  “Abby, this is delish. It really is,” he cracked a smile. “And I see you got on those sweat pants my mother bought you. They look good on you.”

  “Thanks babe. So how was your day? What did Roger say about the song?”

  “Roger loved the song, and I met the guy who is going to record it. He was a little smart ass. Don’t you know he had the audacity to say my music wasn’t ‘soulful’ enough,” he asked throwing a hand gesture in the air.

  “I know that pissed you off,” I laughed.

  “You know it. The boy was no older than eighteen or nineteen giving me suggestions and shit. I could tell he’s one of those church faggots.”

  “Baby, don’t use that word.”

  “I forgot. So, how was your day,” he shifted.

  “It was cool! The client Malik I told you about, I think he has a crush on me or something?”

  “Malik? I don’t remember him!”

  “You don’t remember Malik? The nineteen year old, who threatened me with the scissors that one time, and I had to whip his ass.”

  “Oh, him! How could I forget about him? What makes you think he has a crush on you though,” he asked looking at his finger nails.

  “I don’t know! Just the way he talks and looks at me. I think he’s acting out because he’s aware I’m gay, and is in denial about his personal feelings so he tries to take it out on me. You know how those insecure, down-low niggas act.”

  “Oh, so I guess you are a psychiatrist now, huh. How would he know you’re gay though,” he laughed sipping on his wine.

  “I don’t know. Nahla, might be staying with us in the middle of March,” I said devouring the last piece of broccoli left on my plate.

  “Oh really? Did you ever check those movie times,” Nico asked.

  “Yeah, she’s coming to stay with us during her spring break. No, I didn’t check! I rented a movie from the Red Box.”

  “But we already agreed to see ‘The Last House on the Left’. You know I really want to see that.”

  “I know, Nic. But it would make sense for us to stay in tonight since I cooked and did all of this,” I nodded drinking a swig of the Chardonnay.

  “I don’t see why we can’t still see it tonight. I loved the dinner & everything, but we agreed to see the movie. You even said on the phone you were going to look up movie times,” he pouted while slamming his fork down on the plate without eating much.

  “I said that because I wanted to surprise you with dinner. You never fail to amaze me. I knew you would find some way to turn a positive moment into a negative,” I said.

  “I am not turning a positive into a negative; I thought we had an agreement to see the damn movie. I only talked about it for the past week,” he yelled.

  “The movie is not going anywhere. It will be there tomorrow and the day after that. You are so damn ungrateful!”

  “I am not ungrateful. I l
oved the dinner!”

  “I can barely tell you hardly touched it. You know sometimes you are worst than a female, when I do something right you always find some way to fuck it up,” I yelled across the table.

  “Stop crying like a bitch! We don’t need two dykes in the house.”

  “And what does that supposed to mean,” I rose from my chair in defense.

  “It means you are acting like a bottom. I thought I was the submissive one, but you act worse than me,” he said calmly, sipping on the wine glass.

  “We have never been caught up in that label shit, so what you are saying is new to me. I perceive us as men with emotions.”

  “Yes, Abdul we both have feelings but you act like a girl from those Lifetime dramas my mother watches. Everyone looks at you as the more dominant person in the relationship,” he smiled.

  “Look at my face,” I pointed to my eyes. “Does this look like a face that gives a shit about anyone outside of my relationship?”

  “You are going to stop cursing & yelling at me, I know that much,” he yelled across the table.

  “Oh really? I’m panicking & shaking at your ungrateful ass.”

  “Like I said before, I am appreciative of the damn dinner. What else you want me to do to show I loved it? Kiss your feet,” he yelled as I jumped up from the table without a reaction from him.

  I grabbed my Nike hoody lying on the couch & walked towards the main door.

  “Fuck you, Nico!!!”

  “Maybe I’m Selfish… Featuring Nico”

  I sat in the chair as my knees shook uncontrollably under the table as I could not swallow what I did wrong. Was it selfish of me to want to go to the theater after dinner?

  I picked up the phone to call my mother because I distinguished she would be the one person who would tell me if I was wrong.

  “Hi, you have reached Patricia Bilal. I cannot come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name & number, I’ll call you right back. Thank you,” my mother’s voicemail said.

  “If you would like to leave a message, press one or wait for the beep,” the operator said as the beep alarmed.