by Nikki Rashan
“I didn’t say that,” she protested.
“You don’t have to, you’ve shown me that.” I opened my robe and exposed my nude body to her. “You’re not deserving of all this. You talk about me not playing you like a fool when you’ve been playing me for eleven years. How convenient to have a client you could make money off of and secretly sleep with at the same time.”
“It’s not like that, Sugar. It’s not as simple as you’re making it sound.”
I closed my robe again. “It is that simple, my dear. I was your paycheck and your pussy. Well that’s over now.”
“Sugar—” she started.
I cut her off. “I don’t want to hear any more fake-ass excuses. I hope you now see that there are women who will appreciate me for all that I am.”
“You think that girl cares about you?” she spoke loudly again. “All she wants is a record deal and her name in lights. She has nothing to lose and everything to gain by attaching herself to you. Do you know what you’ve just done for her and for Beau? People will be lined up for tickets to their next concert. You, all you’ve done is created a scandal behind your name. It’s not the same.”
“Nisha didn’t use me,” I defended on both of our behalf.
“She may not have intentionally, but she’ll be the one who comes out on top reaping the benefits.”
“You don’t know her the way that I do,” I stated. “She did this for me.”
Ace was confused. “Wait, what do you mean she did this for you?”
I hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Nothing.”
“Yes, you meant something by that. Wait a minute, you two planned this shit? You took those photos on purpose?” she asked, stunned.
“What if we did? What’s it to you? You don’t give a shit about me anyway.”
“I care about everything that happens to you, believe it or not. But this? Who plants pictures? You sound desperate as hell for fame.”
“I’m already famous, let’s not forget that,” I corrected her. “I want to be free, Ace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted just as much as I’ve wanted to sing.”
“This is how you go about it, taking pictures of yourself against the wall with some other woman?”
“Hey, whatever it takes, darling. I’ll show you that people will love me for my talent no matter who I love and sleep with.”
“Who you sleep with matters, trust me, I know. People would rather believe in the fairy tale they created for you, whether it’s real or not.”
“You would say that. Well, just because you want to give in to whatever image you want and think you need to portray doesn’t mean I have to keep it up with you.”
“This stunt you just pulled will ruin the image we’ve worked so hard to create,” she pressed on.
“Well I’m sorry to have wasted so much of your time and energy,” I responded bitterly. “I’m done, Ace. Give me my damn keys.”
She swung her keys around her first finger. “You’re making a huge mistake,” she warned.
“No, I’m not, you’ll see.”
Ace removed my keys from her ring and tossed them onto my bed. “This is it?”
I shrugged. “It is what it is.” I got up, retrieved her keys from my purse, and threw them at her. They hit her in the chest and fell to the floor.
Livid, she scooped them up and threw them across the room. They landed somewhere deep in my closet. She eyed me furiously before she turned around and left the room.
I slumped back onto my bed, closed my eyes, and fought back more tears that warmed my eyelids. Eventually I picked up my phone, which had been buzzing during my entire argument with Ace. There were twenty-five new Twitter notifications and three more missed calls from Nisha.
“Yoshi!”
She rushed back into the room. Yoshi ran everywhere. “Yes, Miss Sugar?”
“Make me a mimosa.” She darted out of the room again.
I called Nisha back. “Sugar, have you seen this?” she screamed in my ear after the phone rang once.
“The tweet, yes, I saw it.”
“Who is this person? Do you know?”
“I have no idea.”
“What do you think they will do with the rest of the pictures?”
“I have no idea,” I repeated.
“How are you going to respond?”
“I—”
“You have no idea, right? Wake up, Sugar, we have to fix this.”
“I know and I will. I need a minute to think.”
“Has Ace seen it yet?”
“She has. She just left here,” I told Nisha.
“Uh-oh.” She sounded more understanding of my short responses and listlessness. “What did she say?”
“She’s pissed off to say the least. Mad as hell at me, at you, and that we took the pictures on purpose.”
“You told her? Why?” she asked, surprised.
“It slipped, I didn’t mean to. I don’t care that she knows anyway. She’s just happy her precious little secret isn’t out.”
“That she’s a lesbian?”
“Partly.”
“What do you mean?”
I moaned sadly. “This episode revealed the fact that she hasn’t kept our relationship a secret because she’s closeted. She didn’t want anyone to know about us because I’m plus sized.”
Nisha was silent for at least thirty seconds. “What?”
“You heard me correctly. She’s ashamed of me. Embarrassed of me because I’m not a skinny girl.”
“I’m so sorry, Sugar,” she apologized for Ace’s hurtful actions.
“Yeah. It would have been easier to accept her being closeted rather than knowing she was embarrassed to call me her woman.”
“You’re beautiful, Sugar, exactly as you are. I mean that sincerely,” she offered delicately.
“Not according to Ace you don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“She said you used me. That you agreed to this situation to get your own headline for your benefit.”
“Oh hell no, she didn’t. That’s not true, I hope you know that. I did this because I’m not ashamed of who I am and you shouldn’t be either. I did it for you, to help you. Only for you.”
“You mean that?” I asked, almost unsure what the truth was anymore. Ace had cleverly lied and concealed her truth with me for over eleven years. Why should I believe a young woman I barely knew?
“I do,” she responded sincerely.
“Come over. Let’s figure this thing out. We have to get control back over the situation.”
“Cool. What’s your address?” I gave it to her. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
I finished my mimosa in two swallows and called Yoshi to run me a bath. For twenty minutes I rested in the hot water and tried to pretend that I hadn’t spent eleven years loving someone who was embarrassed to have me as her woman. No one had ever made me feel bad about my weight. Momma never had made me feel insecure or concerned about my size. Even when I wanted to sing during a time when all the young female artists were wearing shirts revealing flat, firm stomachs, Momma never encouraged me to lose weight. She was confident in my singing and trusted my singing would garner me the success I deserved.
When I met Ace she hadn’t seemed the least bit concerned or bothered by my weight. In fact, she came off as if she adored my body. When we were together, she praised my shape, every curve and every inch of my skin she explored and devoured. Ace wasn’t in the closet as a lesbian, she was shallow, and paranoid someone would know she had found intimacy with someone who didn’t resemble the standard-package woman she believed others felt she should have been with.
Hadn’t she been there over the years to observe how much people loved me, even with my few added pounds? Even if she was ashamed to have me on her arm, I couldn’t believe she didn’t realize how many other women, like Nisha, would be honored to call me their woman. Maybe that was part of her issue, too. If she had allowed me to come out, I would have had the opportunity
to meet other women, maybe even one who would be willing to share my love openly and willingly. She had protected my secret for her own private benefit. While I knew that our relationship was coming to an end, I hadn’t expected to walk away with a wounded ego.
I got out of the tub and put on a flowered sundress that Yoshi had set out for me. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and applied light makeup. My phone continued to vibrate because I hadn’t gotten the nerve to read the comments and messages that overwhelmed my Twitter account. Just when I had forced the courage to pick up my phone and click on the Twitter app, the intercom buzzed from the living room. Nisha had arrived. I put the phone down again.
“Two mimosas, Yoshi,” I said when I entered the living room. “After you get the door, please.”
I walked to the balcony and opened the door. It was a drizzly summer morning and the warm, moist air swarmed the room. I took a seat on the couch. Nisha entered a couple of minutes later dressed in white shorts, a black tank, and Nike sandals.
“Hey, Sugar.” She bent down and gave me a kiss on my cheek. She sat next to me and rested her chin in the palm of her left hand. Her skin was bare, fresh with no makeup. Without the intense eyeliner, lashes and shadow she looked even more youthful, not like the sexy, provocative guitar and bass player when she performed.
She held up her phone to me. “It hasn’t stopped ringing.”
“Mine either.”
“I first saw the picture because I follow you and saw a notification. Soon after someone figured out it’s me in the picture and attached me to it. Have you read the comments?”
“Not yet.”
“It’s not as bad as you may think,” she told me.
“It’s not? Ace made it sound like I’ve lost all my fans.”
“No, not at all. I mean, everybody is shocked and wondering what the hell is going on with you. Of course some people are ragging on you being a sinner and saying they’re going to unfollow you and not buy your music. For the most part, though, you have a large support system. Your fans are chiming in telling people to shut the hell up and mind their business. They’re mad at the person who released the picture, saying it was an invasion of your privacy. And you have the support of most of the gay and lesbian community in Chicago. They’re all talking about it, happy to welcome you into the family.”
Of course Ace hadn’t mentioned any of the positive comments; she only wanted me to believe I had made a mistake by coming out, as nontraditional as the process had been.
“What about you? Have your heard from your parents?”
She looked away. “No, I haven’t. I guess I don’t expect to either. Even if they find out about it they won’t call. I was panicking about it earlier, but the more I thought about it I think I realized that’s kind of a done deal, you know?”
“I understand. I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool. I’m a grown woman and make my own decisions. I don’t need anyone’s approval, definitely not theirs. They raised me and provided for me, but if they can’t love me for me as I am now, that’s on them.” She looked me in the eyes. “Same with Ace. She may have guided your career and helped get you to where you are, but if she can’t appreciate and love you for all of you, her loss, Sugar, not yours. Doesn’t she know how many women would be proud to claim you as their own?”
“My sentiments exactly. I told her that all the time.” We laughed.
“So how are we going to handle this?” she asked.
“We need some help,” I told her. “I can respond to Twitter comments all day but that’s not going to resolve this. We need radio, we need newspaper. We need someone with connections before this gets too out of control. Especially since we don’t have control or access to any of the photos ourselves, this person can do whatever they want with them. We have to get out here and make some kind of statement to take away some of their power in this situation.”
“You can’t call into a radio station on your own? You know all the DJs in the city. They’ll accept your call anytime, especially now. Their ratings will shoot through the roof.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But we need an ally. Someone else with a name and clout to stand in our corner.” That person instantly came to mind. “Prestin.”
“Do you know her like that?” Nisha asked.
“Not on a personal, friendship level, no. But she’s high profile, a lesbian, active in the community and connected with people all over the city. And based on how she helped us out last night, I don’t doubt she’ll help us today.”
I got up and retrieved my iPad from my bedroom. Yoshi set our mimosas on the table when I returned. I pointed to the guest room and like an obedient pet Yoshi went to it and closed the door behind her. Finally, I checked my Twitter account and viewed the hundreds of comments beneath the photo of me that showed the world my cum face.
Like Nisha had told me, a few people had condemned me to hell:
God don’t like ugly! @SugarChitown
@SugarChitown Nasty! Immoral!
Many were supportive:
We love you! @SugarChitown
Haters will hate, do you! @SugarChitown
@SugarChitown Love your music, don’t care about nothing else!
As expected, there were sexual remarks as well to both me and Nisha:
Damn, can I get some of that @SugarChitown @ TrendyBeau312
Fuckin sexy as hell! Get that sugar, girl! @SugarChitown@TrendyBeau312
I continued to scan and read while Nisha watched over my shoulder. “Look!” she pointed to the screen. “Is that Prestin?”
The tweet was from @PrestinMgmtGroup: Sugar is beautiful Chicago talent. She has our support. @SugarChitown
“Yes, that’s her.”
“You’re right, Sugar, she has your back. Call her,” Nisha said with a bit of hopefulness.
I found Prestin’s Web site online and called the number listed in the contact section. An enthusiastic woman named Cheryl answered the call and, after I asked to speak with Prestin, told me that Prestin was in a meeting. I gave her my name and number for Prestin to call me back.
“Um . . .” She paused a moment. “Is this Sugar the singer?”
“Yes, it is,” I responded cautiously, unsure what Cheryl might have had to say next.
“Oh my God, girl, this is crazy. Forgive my unprofessionalism right now but I’m one of your biggest fans. I was at the concert last night. It was great. That song at the end was hot, girl. I’ve been to all your Chicago shows.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Cheryl, I appreciate your support.”
She whispered next. “I also want to say I saw the photo this morning. Hotness is all I can say.” She giggled. “Don’t even sweat it; your true fans won’t leave you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“We got your back. Oh, wait, Prestin’s door just opened. Good talking to you. Hold on a minute, please.” She placed me on hold. A couple of minutes later Prestin picked up.
“Sugar, good morning. Are your ears ringing this morning? Your name is on everyone’s lips today. How are you holding up, hon?”
“I’ve had better days,” I answered, mostly referring to the rejection I felt by Ace and, partially, because of the concern surrounding the unknown whereabouts of the photos.
“Yes, I’m sure it’s not one of your best days. What can I do for you? I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“That’s why I’m calling. Nisha . . . Trendy is here with me. We need some guidance. Can I put you on speaker?”
“Of course.”
I hit the speaker icon and set the phone on the coffee table in front of us.
“Mind if I ask why Ace isn’t helping?”
I stared into the phone and spoke. “We, um, we severed ties this morning. Irreconcilable differences.”
“I’m not one to pry, Sugar, but if you need my help, it helps me to know the truth,” Prestin urged.
“All I can say is our relationship, in every aspect, has ended.”
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br /> “Ace was more than your manager?”
Was there a reason I should protect her? “Yes,” I admitted. I felt a little weight lift off my shoulders. “She’s been my partner for years.”
“I figured that. Everyone figured that.”
Nisha hit me on the leg like “I told you so.”
“Really? I’m learning that it wasn’t a secret like we thought it was.”
“Chemistry,” Prestin stated. “It can’t be hidden. I’ve known Ace a long time on a casual level, but everyone knows she’s a lesbian. Most people assumed you two wanted to keep your relationship private. But when Franco showed it we knew there had to be more to the story. I’m not even going to ask for details about that. Judging by that picture and what I’ve witnessed on my own, I’m guessing Trendy has a little something to do with the breakup,” she suggested accurately.
“She plays a role, absolutely.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“We’re not sure how to respond to the picture,” I told Prestin. “It’s all over Twitter and who knows where else it might wind up.”
“Yes, ladies, about that picture. I may be the only other person besides the two of you who knows exactly when and where that picture was taken.”
“You’re correct.”
“And I don’t believe anyone else was back there to take that photo,” she continued.
“Correct again.”
“You wanted this photo leaked,” she concluded accurately.
“We took them ourselves,” I confessed. “We wanted the photos to be seen, but not like this, though. I lost the memory card and obviously someone else got their hands on it.”
“Ah, I see. Damn. I don’t know if you’ll ever get your hands back on those photos, Sugar. Why would you do this?”
“I wanted to come out and I wanted to come out in an unforgettable way,” I explained.
“You love the spotlight, don’t you?”
“I do. I was made for it. I’m convinced my fans won’t desert me because of this. I have to prove to Ace that they won’t,” I added.