Heated Harmonies

by Alexandra Warren

  He shook his head in disbelief, closing the door behind him as he agreed, “Whatever you want, Rose.” A statement that was practically music to my ears as I cozied up against the sheets that felt like they had just been replaced. And after dropping our bags off in the corner, Gabriel grabbed the remote from the dresser then kicked off his shoes to join me, resting against the headboard as he flipped through the channels.

  While his eyes were glued to the television, my eyes were glued to his face as I observed him the same way I had done the mountains, each and every intricacy only adding to how handsome he was. And now that I could pair his incredible looks with his incredible generosity, he only grew more handsome, even when his face twisted as he asked, “Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

  Instead of turning away, I continued to study him, watching intently for his physical reaction when I asked, “Why’d you do it?”

  “Why’d I do what?” he countered, keeping his eyes trained on the television.

  But I moved so that I was blocking his view when I clarified, “Why’d you agree to do those songs with me? Agree to do my album? You were so adamant about not fuckin’ with the music industry, not working for the label, but you did it anyway. Why?”

  I wasn’t sure where the question had come from in the moment, but it had lingered long enough in my mind for me to ask anyway. And I could tell the answer was as complicated as I had imagined the way Gabriel released a heavy sigh before he answered, “I guess it was the stuff I saw on YouTube. I didn’t think much of you as an artist before then, but that showed me otherwise, showed me you were legit. Then your determination to get me to work with you, showing up to my crib and shit. And once we finally got together, it just… flowed. We clicked. You tapped into a desire for music that I didn’t even know I had. And to be real, you tapped into some other shit too.”

  “Like what? Your heart?” I pressed, crossing my legs under me as I waited anxiously to hear his answer.

  And I got exactly what I was looking for when he peeked up at me with that sexy smirk and nodded. “Somethin’ like that.”

  My heart bloomed as I gnawed on my lip, deciding it was the perfect time to reciprocate my feelings as I admitted, “You had exactly what I needed. And the more I discovered just how talented you were, the more I discovered… you. The real you. Not the hard ass, mean ass dude I met back at The Black Market. But the kindhearted, hardworking loverboy who can’t seem to keep his lips to himself whenever I’m around him.”

  “You don’t exactly make it any easier for me,” he replied, lifting from his spot against the headboard to meet me in the middle, pressing me onto my back as he hovered over me looking as if he was ready to do exactly what I had said. But instead of kissing me, he nuzzled his face in my neck as he sang, “Ooooh, who would’ve thought I’d get you…” doing a deeper impression of Daniel Caesar’s, Get You that made burst with laughter as I slapped a hand against his chest.

  “Gabe, what the fuck?! I didn’t know you could sing!”

  He shrugged, his grin crooked as he replied, “Most people don’t. I mean, I don’t do it often. Just on special occasions. Sometimes in the shower.”

  “Well you’re not in the shower right now so…”

  “Special occasion for a special girl,” he finished as he pulled my legs apart to rest between them, somehow managing to keep most of his weight off me as he took a deep inhale of my perfume.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing my eyes as I absorbed the moment of ultimate calmness, ultimate peace, knowing it would only be a moment even when I said, “Let’s just… stay here forever. Just like this.”

  He chuckled against my chest. “Nah, you got some fire to press send on, so we gotta get back. And I still have a job believe it or not.”

  “I can guarantee you’ll be saying goodbye to the community center once the rest of the industry gets hip to your skills. Hell, you’ll probably get too busy to ever work with me again. Go ahead and put me on your waiting list for my next album,” I teased as I moved my hands from his neck to his hair, stroking his waves with the palm of my hand.

  And he seemed to be enjoying it, releasing the slightest groan before he said, “You’re buggin’. Working with you was dope as hell, but I’m not tryna press my luck. I’d rather get back to my old life.”

  “Your old life without me?” I asked, peeking down to find his eyes as I muttered, “And just when I thought I had a friend...”

  He laughed again, propping himself up on his elbow and stroking my cheek as he corrected, “You have more than a friend, Rose. Hell, I just got you as more than a friend. You really think I’m tryna get rid of you already?”

  While his words naturally brought a smile to my face, I couldn’t help but press, “Can you promise me that? Promise you won’t leave me hanging? I mean, stuff is about to get crazy with this album dropping, and I’ll… I’ll need somebody I can count on. Somebody I can trust.”

  I hated the way a lump grew in my throat at the thought alone, knowing just how short the list of “loyal” people in my corner was. But even when compared to that list, Gabriel had proved himself to be a completely different breed, far more invested in me the person than the hype that surrounded me which was exactly what had drawn me to him in the first place. He wasn’t fazed by my status, wasn’t fazed by the fanfare. He only wanted me, Zalayah - Rose -, and according to the earnest expression on his face, that wasn’t changing anytime soon as he replied, “As long as you don’t switch up on me, I promise I will never switch up on you. Can you promise me that? That you won’t go all Hollywood on me when the spotlight gets a little hotter?”

  I rolled my eyes as I told him, “I’ve never been Holly...”

  But he cut me off before I could even finish. “Zalayah…”

  “Alright, alright fine. I promise I won’t switch up. Now let’s make some good use of this bed before somebody figures out where we are.”

  Gabriel

  “Man. I can’t believe you’re really smashin’ this. I can’t believe these are your hands! We gotta get these mothafuckas insured. They gotta be worth some money now.”

  I laughed at my little brother as we made our way out of the grocery store with a few copies of Zalayah’s viral magazine cover in hand, three in total after purchasing one for me, one for him, and one for my mother who insisted on getting it signed and framed. It was still amazing to me how quickly the picture had caught fire. And not only had it caught fire, it was doing exactly what Zalayah wanted it to, garnering attention to her new appeal and forcing people to get ready for what was coming on the new album.

  “Bruh, you’re crazy. It’s not even that deep,” I finally replied, shaking my head as I continued down the street while also flipping through the pages until I found the spread featured with the interview she had done. And even though I had already checked out the digital version online, I couldn’t help but skim the words once again just to get the gratifying fullness I felt in my chest every time I read it.

  She was really making it happen, really reaching her ultimate goal of transforming her image, and the finishing touches would be put on once the album dropped at midnight. And while I wasn’t sure what that would all mean for us long term, I was proud of her for going against the grain and defining her own lane. I was proud of her for stepping out of what really wasn’t much of a comfort zone even though it had been treated as such. And I was proud of her for staying grounded and focused through it all regardless of how many barriers we had to overcome during the process.

  There were plenty of reasons why she should’ve moved on from me as her producer, moved on from whatever had been budding between us chemistry-wise, but I was glad she hadn’t. In fact, my mind was already drifting back to our glorious day-and-a-half trip to Nevada when Grayson snapped, “Nigga. Your woman, your hands, have been retweeted over a million times. And that’s just the original post. We gotta create some molds of ‘em or somethin’.”

  My woman.

&nbs
p; Dating Zalayah had never been a part of the plan. I mean, sure she was attractive as hell, but everything about her image had always screamed phony to me. Still, after getting in the studio with her, being able to see her as human, being able to hear her struggles and share in her triumphs, it was easy to fall for her. And not only was she easy to fall for, she was easy to open up to. Even with everything going on in her world, she was legitimately interested in me and my regular ass life, making me feel comfortable as hell around her, making me feel cared about in a way I had never experienced before.

  While I wasn’t sure if I could classify the feeling as anything more than that, I still brushed Grayson off as I told him, “No one even knows they're my hands. I mean, they could be anybody’s hands.”

  “Not after those pictures from y’all cuddling up at the Hoover Dam got out. You’re Zalayah’s best kept secret. Well, I guess not anymore. But you were.”

  “Man, whatever. People can think what they want. I’m just happy this cover came out so well, and I’m happy the album is over and done with so I can get back to regularly scheduled programming.”

  The words felt good coming off my lips, but I knew they were far from the truth. There was no such thing as regularly scheduled programming now that I had officially been tagged as Zalayah’s new boyfriend and would soon also be acknowledged as her producer. The wave of new followers on all my social media accounts had already poured in by the thousands, the shallow interests from girls who wouldn’t have otherwise looked my way were already trying to get me to respond to their DMs, and I was already bracing myself for the different up-and-coming artists who would be sending me links to their music with hopes that I’d be able to work with them.

  And maybe I would.

  Maybe I could find my lane with new, up-and-coming artists instead of falling in line with everyone in the industry and chasing the superstars with big budgets. Maybe I could keep the joy I had found in doing music by keeping things low-key. Maybe I could just… continue to do it as a side hustle while keeping my day job at the community center so that my livelihood wouldn’t be dependent on it.

  It sounded great, but also felt perfectly unrealistic as Grayson shook his head, bringing the attention back to himself when he said, “I can’t believe you won’t let me get a sneak peek listen. Been your brother for over twenty years, and now you wanna start keeping stuff from me?”

  I gave him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as I insisted, “You’ll hear it tonight at the album release party. That’s soon enough.”

  “Yeah, if you say so,” he replied with a roll of his eyes, stopping mid-stride to ask, “Yo, is that nigga over there taking pictures of you?”

  Now it was me rolling my eyes before I peeked in the direction he was already looking and asked, “Why would somebody be taking pictures of me, Gray?”

  He shrugged, flexing his chest as if he was trying to make himself look good when he answered, “Shit, you’re famous now. You got the hottest chick in the game wearing your chain. All that shit Zalayah sang about in those two songs she dropped, you’re living that now.”

  I shook my head, trying to ignore the fact that it definitely looked as if the guy was taking pictures of us from across the street. Then again, this was California. There could’ve easily been someone famous around us who he was trying to sneak and capture. But Grayson still seemed convinced of his theory when he announced, “Bruh, look. He’s practically walking with us now. That’s gotta be paparazzi.”

  Instead of paying him any real mind, I continued down the street, pulling out my phone to shoot Zalayah text.

  “Your road trippin’ ass got the paparazzi out here in my business.” - Gabe

  I knew she was busy getting all glammed up for the event later, so I wasn’t expecting a response anytime soon. But it only took a few more steps down the street for one to come.

  “Ugh. So annoying, right? I’m sorry. :( ”- Rose

  “It’s all good. Can’t wait to see you tonight. So excited for you.” - Gabe

  While I was already dreading being in a room full of the people from the record label who I knew were phony as hell, there was nothing that would’ve stopped me from being there to celebrate with her. And it helped that my brother would be joining me, even though he was currently focused on shit like, “Man, I’m about to go over there and pull a Kanye. Knock that camera right out of his hand for catching me out here without a fresh haircut.”

  I bursted with laughter, shaking my head at him while also reading Zalayah’s latest text.

  “I already feel like I’m going to throw up. So glad you’re coming.” - Rose

  “Why? So you can throw up on me?” - Gabe

  “Just hold my hair back for me, babe.” - Rose

  I gnawed at my lip, ready to send her a text telling her what else I wanted to do with her hair when someone behind us shouted, “Gabe! Gabe, wait up!”

  It took a minute for the voice to register since I hadn’t heard it in a while, and thankfully so. But that didn’t stop me from having an attitude when I turned around and asked, “What you want, Shy?”

  She twiddled around with her fingers, wasting even more of my time. And just as I was getting ready to walk off, she started, “I saw you and what’s-her-name finally went public.”

  “Not exactly. But you know her name,” I replied sternly, diverting my eyes only to find the guy Grayson assumed was paparazzi even closer to us than he had been before.

  And while Grayson made himself busy trying to pose for the perfect “off-guard” picture, my attention was on Shy who nodded when she said, “Right. Well… congratulations. On the success. You deserve it.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “And I mean, if the label is ever looking to bring in some new artists, maybe you could…”

  I cut her off, my face twisting as I snapped, “Yo, are you serious right now? You fuck me over, start all this shit with me after the fact, and now you expect me to help you get on? You must be outta your damn mind.”

  “But Gabe…”

  “But Gabe, nothin’. We’re done, Shy. Done. I wish you the best, and maybe once you stop putting so much negative energy out into the world, karma will stop biting you in the ass all the time. But your good fortune is not about to start with me. Or maybe it will,” I told her, peeking down to the magazines in my hand before handing one over to her. “Here. Why don’t you take notes on how a real artist handles their business?”

  I could hear her smacking her teeth as I turned away to continue the walk to the car, even more annoyed when Grayson threw his arm over my shoulder and said, “Wowwww, G. Stuntin’ on your old girl with your new girl in glossy print? That’s some next level player shit.”

  Instead of replying, I only rolled my eyes as I pressed the remote to unlock the car, peeling away from him to head to the driver’s side. But once again, I was interrupted by someone saying, “Excuse me? Excuse me?”

  When I turned around, I found the same guy who had been taking pictures, extending his hand as he continued, “Hi. I was hoping to get a statement on Zalayah’s new album. We’ve just recently learned you’re the person responsible for this new wave she’s on.”

  I shrugged, pulling the car door open as I replied, “I’m not responsible for anything. That’s all her.”

  “You are the executive producer, correct?” he asked, pushing his phone near my mouth to record my response.

  But before I could say anything, Grayson showed up on our side of the car to answer, “He certainly is. And I’m his brother. They call me Gray. You can find my music at w-w-w-dot….”

  “Grayson, let’s go.”

  “But…”

  “Let’s go, Grayson,” I repeated, this time a little more sternly as I got into the car.

  And once my brother climbed into the other side, he whined, “Man, you’re a hater. Gotta steal my shine just cause you’re getting album credits now and shit. What happened to my feature anyway?”

  I pulled out of the p
arking lot, watching for the guy who was back to snapping pictures as I told him, “It just didn’t fit the flow of the album, bruh.”

  “Or maybe you just had your own agenda all along.”

  Instead of making me upset, his little stab only gave me a much-needed laugh as I told him, “Yo, chill with that.”

  “Wouldn’t have none of this shit without me,” he muttered, staring out of the window like a kid who had just gotten a whoopin’.

  But I didn’t let him stay there, reaching over the center console to shove him in the shoulder as I teased, “You done cryin’ yet?”

  He didn’t answer my question, instead turning my way to say, “I better get a deal out of this damn release party tonight or you’ll never hear the last of this, I swear. I’ll take this thing global if I have to. Write a tell-all book about how my big brother used me to get into the music industry he never wanted to be in.”

  Again, I could only laugh as I told him, “Do what you gotta do, bruh. Just don’t embarrass me tonight, aight?”

  His response didn’t sound too convincing, but I knew it was all I going to get. And even though I wasn’t sure what the night would entail myself, I could only hold onto his word when he replied, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

  &

  The room was jam-packed, but the star of the show remained clear as day as she mixed and mingled with her guests, smiling her way through a million pictures and a shit ton of small talk. I could only imagine what was going through her head, how fast it had to be spinning as she tried to keep her energy up with everything going on around her. Then again, this was the world she lived in, the world she had mastered over the years, so maybe she wasn’t fazed at all.

  I, on the other hand, was exhausted and I hadn’t even done anything besides shake a few hands of people who Caleb insisted on introducing me to. There were a couple of executives from the label, a couple of audio engineers who had perfected the sound quality of the album, and then a couple of A&R folks who had shown interest in my brother. But none of them were as important as the girl who practically launched herself into my arms the second she made it my way.