Heated Harmonies

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Heated Harmonies Page 19

by Alexandra Warren


  “Damnit,” I muttered to myself as I tried to figure out my next move. Even though I didn’t have any plan in particular coming into things, I somehow knew just me showing up would be enough. We’d hash it out, kiss and make-up, and then I’d give him front row tickets to my show tomorrow.

  My show tomorrow.

  The idea hit me like a ton of bricks as I immediately dug in my purse for the tickets I had brought with me before extending them to Grayson. “Can you just... make sure he gets these? Tell him I delivered them myself. There should be enough for you and a friend to come too if you want.”

  Grayson looked at the tickets as if they were golden, almost snatching them from my hand as he shouted, “Yo, good lookin’ out! I tried to get tickets online and they were sold out in less than five minutes.”

  “Well these will get you backstage, so make sure you bring someone special. Someone important. Or maybe just someone you want to impress,” I suggested with a little laugh, easing the nerves that had me worried if Gabe would even show up. But as my mother had shared, I could only make myself vulnerable and hope for the best.

  If nothing else, it was clear I’d have at least one familiar face in the audience when Grayson nodded enthusiastically, taking a closer look at the tickets before he replied, “I most definitely will.”

  I gave him a short smile before I turned to leave, though I didn’t get too far when he called after me. “Hey, Zalayah?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, turning back halfway to meet his eyes and finding him only a few steps away.

  He put a gentle hand to my shoulder wearing the kindest expression on his face, one that allowed me to relax just slightly, though it didn’t last long when he said, “Gabe is in love with you. I know he’s being hardheaded as hell about it, but he’s been a wreck around here since that party. He’s been a wreck without you. And while I don’t know what it is that someone as beautiful as you could possibly see in his ugly ass, please don’t give up on him.”

  While it was reassuring to hear Gabe had been just as messed up as me about this whole situation, I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I explained, “That’s the only reason why I’m here, Gray. That feeling? It’s beyond mutual.”

  He nodded as if he understood exactly what I meant even though Gabe and I had never spoken the actual words. But we didn’t have to say it to know it existed, we didn’t have to say anything to feel each other’s energy whenever we were around each other. The connection had been there long before it had anything to do with love. But now it had everything to do with love, and I was beyond determined to get that back.

  Thankfully, I wasn’t alone in my quest as Grayson guided me to the door while assuring, “I’ll make sure he gets to that show tomorrow even if I have to drag him there myself. I’m not gonna let him mess this up any more than he already has.”

  “We both have our faults. But I’d definitely appreciate that,” I replied with another little laugh as I gave the door my signature knock to let Zeus know I was ready.

  But it was just slightly cracked open when Grayson leaned against the back of it, grinning as he added, “And if y’all can’t work it out, we could always collab on something more than just music.”

  Considering that was almost the exact route I had taken with his brother, there was no way in hell I was even tempted by his slick ass offer. I also wasn’t going to jinx myself by making backup plans no matter how equally handsome Grayson was.

  So instead of giving him any real answer and surely hurting his feelings, I only offered a smile as I tossed over my shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Gabriel

  Diving into my work at the community center head first had been the only thing keeping me sane, though even that wasn’t really enough to keep my mind from going back to the five things that had been invading my thoughts for the past week.

  Zalayah.

  The party.

  Nigel.

  The fallout.

  RoseGold.

  No matter the order, they all had a way of taking me through a rollercoaster of emotions, feeling excited about the early success of RoseGold, excited for Zalayah, while also feeling regretful that I couldn’t share in the excitement of the album with her since we had gotten into it at the party. Feeling angry at Nigel, enraged by the shit he talked about my mother at the party, while also feeling sad about ruining Zalayah’s big night because of it. Missing Zalayah, wanting her back, while also understanding the volumes her silence spoke.

  There was so much going on in my mind that the only thing I could do was try my best to avoid thinking about any of it. But that method didn’t work so well when it was time for me to go home, especially since the first thing I laid eyes on once I made it inside were tickets to Zalayah’s show laying on the counter.

  I was slow to touch them, taking a moment to appreciate Zalayah’s album cover that was printed as the background of her dripping in rose gold paint. It was unique and sexy without being too over-the-top or strange. In fact, I could remember the exact day she did the shoot because she still had paint caught in random crevices of her body when I recorded with her later that night.

  Obviously recording wasn’t the only thing we had done.

  The memory alone had me releasing a heavy sigh as I finally picked the ticket up, pinching it between my fingers just as Grayson made his way from the back of the apartment. And once he saw what I was doing, he casually tossed out, “Zalayah stopped by to give you those.”

  “She did what?” I asked, my heart racing as I thought about her being in the apartment, thought about her making an effort to be anywhere near me after not speaking to me since the party.

  Still, Grayson remained nonchalant, plopping down on the couch as he explained, “She came through to talk to you, but you weren’t here. Obviously. So she left those for you. Well… for us.”

  “How long ago was she here?” I asked, thinking maybe I could catch her before she got too far away.

  But my immediate idea was crushed when he shrugged. “I don’t know. Couple hours. She wasn’t here long.”

  “Damnit,” I hissed as I thought about the missed opportunity to make amends, thought about how I had apparently read the situation all wrong.

  Even though she hadn’t talked to me directly, her gesture showed she wasn’t completely through with me. And I suppose it didn’t help that I had been silent too, surely giving the wrong signal for how I actually felt. But the truth was, I wanted nothing more than to be back in her good graces, wanted nothing more than to kiss her, hold her, get back to where we were just beginning to flourish as a couple. I wanted to give her more than what she already had of the world and love her the way she deserved to be loved.

  I wanted my Rose.

  The words I wanted to share with her were already flooding my brain as Grayson insisted, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I held it down for you. Told her how much you loved her and that you’ve been miserable as hell without her.”

  “You did what?” I asked, my face scrunched with irritation as I thought about my brother sharing way more than necessary.

  But he wasn’t fazed, offering another shrug as he replied, “What? It’s the truth. I mean, that’s the only explanation that makes sense. And I’ve seen you hurt over a chick before. But this? This is different.”

  No matter how irritated I was with him, I knew he was right. He had seen me heartbroken recently enough to still know what it looked like. He had watched me go through the progression of getting over somebody, even if that process had been a little different with Shy. But the emptiness I felt without Zalayah didn’t even compare to anything I had felt in the past, letting me know I was in much deeper than any time before. And while that vulnerability left me unsettled, I hoped Grayson could offer me some reassurance when I asked, “Well what did she say?”

  “She said the feeling is mutual. And that was why she was coming by. So you still got a chance, bruh. Don’t fuck it up.”

  My should
ers sank in relief, my optimism growing as I told him, “I got you, Gray.”

  And he only added to my energy when he insisted, “Yeah, you better. Cause you know I’m ready to catch that rebound if you don’t. I’m talking Russell Westbrook needing one more rebound for his triple-double and jumping out the gym. I’ll throw bows and get dirty with it like a future cat lady during the bouquet toss at her homegirl’s wedding. I’ll…”

  “Alright, alright. I hear you, Gray. I won’t mess this up.”

  &

  It was the day of the show, and I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before as if I was the one who was going on stage. But that’s how it felt, my heart pounding every time I thought about being in the same room as her for the first time in far too long, thought about watching her do her thing and feeling the energy from the crowd who loved her, thought about how she would respond to seeing me. Nervous didn’t even seem like the appropriate word for the thick layer of anxiety that coated me as I waited in line with Grayson and my mother, surrounded by people who all seemed to be Zalayah’s biggest fan. They wore t-shirts with her face on them, had posters with quotes that they hoped would garner her attention from the stage; one girl even had a fresh tattoo of her favorite lyrics from the new album.

  It was insane to see her star power in live action, to be around people who literally worshipped the ground she walked on. But it also made me feel hopeful as hell since I knew no matter how many people were in the audience, she wanted me to be there. She had personally delivered tickets that would have us front and center where she’d be able to see us. At least those were the ideas I planned on holding onto until she could tell me otherwise herself. And that moment of truth seemed sooner than ever as Caleb spotted us on his way in, waving his hand as he motioned for us to join him.

  We hopped out of line, catching up to him and following him towards an entrance designated for people with VIP status according to the signage. And once we were inside of the building, he took a moment to dap up both Gray and myself before I introduced him to my mother.

  “Caleb, this is my mom. Mama, this is Caleb. Zalayah’s manager.”

  “Constella, right?” he asked, his eyebrow piqued as he extended his hand her way.

  “That’d be me,” she replied, shaking his hand with a smile that was a little too blushed for my liking.

  And that only seemed to grow when Caleb continued, “My mother was a huge fan, so naturally I became one too. She used to make us clean the house to your album every single weekend until it started skipping. And even then, she just went out and bought another copy.”

  My mother laughed like a little schoolgirl, waving a hand his way as she said, “Well you be sure to tell her I appreciate the support.”

  “Would you mind if I get a picture for her? She’d cuss me out if I didn’t,” Caleb asked, already pulling his phone from his pocket and then extending it my way just as my mother agreed.

  In fact, she was already wrapping an arm around his shoulder as she insisted, “Gabe, take the picture for us. And one on my phone too. Just because he’s so handsome.”

  “Mama, does your phone even have a camera on it? That mug is ancient,” Grayson joked beside us, making us all laugh.

  Well, everybody except my mom as she snapped, “Boy, just shut up and take the damn picture.”

  Their smiles were already in place as I took a few pictures on Caleb’s phone, and then a few on my mother’s that was only a step-up from a flip phone which meant the quality was horrible. But that didn’t seem to matter to her as she slipped the phone back into her purse just as Caleb was saying, “The show should be starting soon, so I’ll let y’all get to your seats. But I’ll see y’all after the show?”

  “Most definitely,” Grayson answered with a nod before Caleb took off towards backstage while we made our way out to the auditorium.

  But we hadn’t made it very far when my mother was already asking, “What do you boys think about getting a new stepdaddy? He’s kinda fly, right?”

  My face scrunched instantly as I groaned, “Ugh, Mama. He could be your son. Ain’t nobody tryna hear all that.”

  And my brother backed me up when he added, “Yeah, he already had to punch out your old bae the other night. I don’t think he’s trying to get thrown in jail for punching out another one.”

  Thankfully my mother was already sitting down by the time she processed what Grayson had said, her reaction dramatic as hell when she snapped her head back to ask, “You did what?!”

  I tried my best to play it down when I replied, “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  But she wasn’t taking that for an answer, continuing to say, “Now I just know I raised you better than to be fighting in public, Gabriel. And who is this old bae he’s talking about? The only old bay I know is the seasoning.”

  Grayson snickered on the opposite side of her as I chose my words carefully. “I uh… I ran into Nigel the other night, at Zalayah’s party. He said something slick about you, and I… handled it.”

  “Well what did he say?” she asked, a concerned expression on her face as if she was trying to make sense of my actions.

  But I immediately brushed it off with a wave of my hand as I told her, “It’s nothin’, Mama. Just know he tried you and I defended your honor in the best way I knew how.”

  “Well I guess I can’t fault you for that,” she replied, leaning over to pinch my cheek just as the lights in the venue went down with perfect timing, eliciting a lull of roars and screams from the crowd.

  The energy in the place was just as electric as expected, everyone on their feet as Zalayah appeared under the spotlight on the stage surrounded by her dancers. Her face was completely serious, a fan in front of the stage blowing her hair back as the crowd continued to scream and chant her name, Grayson included. And once that first beat dropped - my beat dropped - I felt just as captivated as everyone else by her stage presence being as it was my first time at one of her shows. But I also felt a special connection to the music as I watched her sing her heart out to song after song that we had created together, the songs I knew weren’t just lyrics.

  They each told a story, held a memory from our time in the studio, even if that wasn’t what the song was about. But when she belted “your love is the best...”, it took me back to our very first recording session when I had to get her hot and bothered enough to sing convincingly. When she flowed about “actin’ up, like I don’t really give a fuck”, it took me back to the time we actually became friends and had almost shared our first kiss. And when she popped her back while singing about wanting to go off like dynamite, I couldn’t help but vibe to it the same way I had done when she first presented it to me.

  I wasn’t the only one vibing to it, my mother already singing along to the chorus by the time it came back around before pulling me down by the shoulder to yell in my ear, “She’s amazing!”

  I nodded to agree, pulling my eyes back to the stage just as Zalayah smiled while shaking her ass in succession with her dancers, holding onto each other’s shoulder for support as they made it down to the ground and then made their way back up, a move she never would’ve done in the past. In fact, everything about her performance was giving off the exact mood she had been looking for all along, from the stage set-up, to the costumes, to the choreography, and of course, the music. She had made a complete transformation and it was clear her audience was just as excited about it as she was as they sang along to both the new and old songs she performed.

  Whenever she held the mic out to the crowd, there was a fan ready and willing to give it their best shot no matter how terrible they sang. Whenever she intentionally dropped the beat out, they were there to fill in the words, even if it was a whole hook. And whenever her and her dancers went into the dance breaks she used as transitions, the whole audience was there to hype her up with an assortment of cheers from a simple, “Aye” to a whole, “Fuck it up, Z!”

  It was… fascinating, incredible, awe-inspi
ring; more than enough to have me questioning how I had been missing it all from the beginning. Then again, the Zalayah who was on the stage now wasn’t the same Zalayah from before. She had evolved, come into her own, and had completely taken over her own little special section of my heart.

  I was in love with her, had fallen in love with the person she was on and off the stage, and there was no way in hell I was going to blow that again if given the opportunity. But if these tickets had truly been an indication of how she felt, it seemed as if there was actually a chance for redemption.

  I held onto that until the show was over when we made our way backstage to find her, though I knew there was a lot more than just a simple greeting that needed to be exchanged. And just the thought had my heart going into overdrive, each door we passed making me more and more anxious to see her until we made it to the one with Zeus standing outside of it. He recognized me almost immediately, giving the door a short knock and then opening it to announce I was outside. But before letting me in, a train of familiar faces exited, including Zalayah’s mom who offered me an expression that looked more like a warning than anything as she passed.

  Zeus finally gave me the signal to invite me in. But before I could move, my own mother put a hand on my shoulder and said, “You can do it, son.” as if she had any idea what was going on. And maybe she did; maybe she could just feel the intensity in the air. But now wasn’t the time to ask as I gave her a short nod of thanks before slipping past Zeus into the room.

  I didn’t see Zalayah right away, the room only littered with random costume pieces and candy wrappers as if someone had just raided the snack drawer. But it felt like my heart stopped once she finally emerged from the bathroom, her face already free of the heavy stage makeup she wore and her clothes changed from the bodysuit costume she had been in to a simple t-shirt and jogger pants.

  She looked so refreshed as if she hadn’t just spent the last two hours giving it her all on stage. Then again, this was her lane, her world; she was a champion when it came to this shit and even if I hadn’t fully understood that before, I definitely got it now. I definitely got her now.

 

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