“That’s not all he did, Mariah.” I whispered.
“What?” Mariah’s eyes searched my face. “What the fuck do you mean, Audrey?”
“Audrey, you asked for me?” I head Korey’s voice approaching us before I looked up in the direction that the voice was coming from. Korey Phillips. Well, what could I say about him? He was one of the most ambitious black men that I’d ever met. He was area supervisor, on his way to getting promoted to district supervisor. Rumor had it that he was on his way to launching a line of shoes, that he was entering into an endorsement deal with Adidas. His older brother, Kevin Phillips, played for the Washington Redskins. Korey was just two years older than I was. He was dark skinned with bright brown eyes and perfect white teeth. His hair and face were always cut and trimmed to perfection. He had the perfect build—built as if he was carved in heaven. He was about 6’2’’, probably two hundred pounds. He was a sight to see. And he had the biggest crush on me, despite the fact that he was married. Married to a girl I went to school with at that; Adelle McCarthy. He only married her because Sean stood in the way of him trying to marry me. I was a fool in love with Sean, and Korey got tired of waiting. But he did hook me up with a job, a car, and a place to stay, so he didn’t entirely forget about me.
“Hey, hey, Korey,” I stuttered, glancing at Mariah who was still anxious to know exactly what Sean did to me the night before. I turned to Korey as he walked towards us.
Korey stood before the two of us, eying the clothes that we were tagging. He looked at his watch. “The mall opens in about an hour. Y’all gonna have all of this done by then?”
We both nodded.
“Of course. Elle will be here in about fifteen minutes to help out, Korey.” I looked him over, admiring his casual attire. He was dressed perfectly to go out and eat with us. “So, what are your plans for lunch?”
Korey made a face. “Lunch?”
I nodded. “Umm-hmm.”
Korey glanced at Mariah and then back at me. “Okay, what’s going on? The only time anyone offers to take me to lunch, they’re trying to give me some bad news. So, what’s up? You quitting on me or what? You might as well just tell me now, Audrey.”
“Korey, she was in a talent show last night at the Rhymes! They heard her lyrics, they heard her rap, they heard her sing, and they want her! Well, Antwan does.” Audrey nudged me in the side. “She’s with Antwan’s new label.”
Korey’s eyes lit up just as fast as they dimmed back down. I’d been working with that dude since I was in high school. He had done so much for me. Korey ran his hand over his wavy hair anxiously. “So, what are you saying, Audrey? Today is your last day?”
I hesitated. “And Mariah’s too.”
Mariah looked at me. I hadn’t told her that I told Karen the only way the company was getting me was if they signed her, too. “Wh—what do you mean?” Mariah stuttered.
“I hope you’ve got your gym bag in the car because practice is at 11:00.” I couldn’t even get the entire sentence out before Mariah threw her arms around me, knocking my glasses off of my face.
“I’m sorry, boo!” Mariah let go of me, bending over to pick the glasses off the floor.
I turned away from Korey to take the glasses back from her when Korey grabbed my face, turning it towards his.
I cringed at his touch, my jaw aching like a muthafucka.
Korey’s temples twitched. “Who the fuck did this shit to your face, Audrey?”
“Sean.” Mariah spoke up before I could try to brush the situation off. “That muthafuckin’ cheatin’ ass, lyin’ ass, punk ass Sean. You should’ve beat his ass back in high school, Korey.”
I took Korey’s hands from my face. “Are you coming to lunch with us this afternoon or what? I’d really like it if you came, Korey.”
Korey shook his head at me. “That nigga has no right to put his hands on you!” Korey wasn’t changing the subject. “I told your ass back in high school that you needed to drop that muthafucka and fuck with me, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“You’re married, Korey.” I took my glasses from Mariah’s hands.
“Yeah,” Korey mumbled like he didn’t need a reminder that he was married to someone whose spending limit was out of control. “That’s beside the point. I wish you all the luck in the world, Audrey; you know I do. I’ve always been your number one fan.”
Mariah cleared her throat, folding her arms.
“Number two. My bad.” Korey grinned a little at Mariah before looking back at me. “I already know you didn’t call the police, so I don’t even have to ask. But all I’m saying is I hope you don’t let that nigga get away with this. You’re about to work with some ruthless muthafuckas. You need to get one of ‘em to take him out. I’m pretty sure he fucked with the wrong nigga’s girl; someone will help you get that nigga.”
“So,” Mariah butted in, “does this mean you’re not going with us to lunch? After today, there’s no telling when you’ll see either one of us. Elle will be here to take over in a few.”
Korey looked at me before moving my hair from my face to see the rest of the bruises. He exhaled deeply, his face wrinkling into a frown. “You sure this is what you wanna do, Audrey? You’ve come a long way from the shy girl you were back in school, but you’re not like the other females in that industry.”
“I’m just gonna be writing music, Korey. I’m not gonna perform. I did it last night to prove a point to Sean, but I’m not singer or a rapper or a poet. I’m just Audrey, a songwriter.” I sighed as Korey ran his fingers over my bruises. “Just let us take you out to lunch. Antwan invited you.”
Korey shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna see you leave me. Mariah, look out for my girl, a’ight? See y’all around.” Korey looked at me one last time before turning around to walk out of the store.
***
Mariah’s nails damn near dug into my arm as we strolled down the hallway towards the studio where dance rehearsal was being held. A few of Antwan’s bodyguards led us in the front and a few more followed close behind us. Man, shit had to be crazy in the industry. I mean, Antwan’s bodyguards had bodyguards. I felt like I was in a whole other world as I strolled through Instinctive Studios. They had studios set up in just about every major city in the country, but their sixteen-story building that sat in the middle of downtown Baltimore was their headquarters. I felt like I was in a five-star hotel rather than an office building. There I was, dressed in a jean jacket, white Adidas fitted tee, dark denim skinny jeans, and my fresh white and blue Adidas. Mariah was dressed in a pink crop top, black yoga pants, and pink New Balances. And the bodyguards to the front and behind us were rockin’ labels that I couldn’t even pronounce.
We stopped in front of the double wooden doors of the dance studio. Two of the bodyguards opened the doors to lead us inside. IEP were scattered throughout the studio, bent over, stretching, getting ready for dance rehearsal. Mickey Clark was the choreographer. She was a bad muthafucka. She once danced for Black Beauty, a well-known dance crew who performed at Howard University. She set off on her own, tired of being in the background, and the rest was dance history. Mariah was still digging her claws into me as we strolled into the studio and damn near passed out at the sight of sought after Mickey Clark.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at Mariah. “Can you let go of my arm? You’re cutting off my got damn circulation, Mariah!” I whispered to her.
“Oh.” Mariah let go of my arm. “My bad.”
I rubbed my upper arm, “Damn, witcha’ strong ass.”
I looked over in the corner where my sister was stretching with her team. I rolled my eyes as they caught sight of us. They all stood up straight, standing there in formation, looking like a black Barbie collection. I laughed to myself as they made their way over to us in the middle of the dance studio. Brandie beat the hell out of her face with Mac makeup to cover up the bruises that Mariah left on her face the night before, but even layers on layers of makeup couldn’t cover the scars that Mar
iah left alongside her eyes and lips.
All nervousness seeped right out of Mariah as soon as she was confronted by the group of females that she had absolutely no respect for. She’d seen them do too much and end up with so little. There were only a select few dancers who ended up in videos; the rest might as well call themselves groupies because they sure didn’t go on the road with the company other than as sex objects. I have to give it to them; they danced hard. But they sucked dick harder. No one took their asses seriously. The only reason why Brandie even made it as far as she did was because her mother, Odessa Wrigley, was head prosecutor for the states attorneys’ office downtown. She was the reason why half of the artists that worked for the company weren’t in jail. Yeah, Brandie sucked a lot of dick, just like her teammates, but what set her apart was that she had the hook-up for those who needed a get-out-of-jail-free card.
“Look at this stupid hoe, with a whole herd of even stupider hoes backing her up.” Mariah nudged me. “Well,” Mariah sighed, “It seems as though I owe your bitch ass an apology. You’re a hoe, that’s for damn sure, but you weren’t hoeing around with Sean.”
Brandie rolled her eyes a little, glancing at me. She knew she wished she had a friend like Mariah, who would never hesitate to defend her bestie at the drop of a dime. All Brandie’s friends did was talk shit, hoping the next bitch would be too afraid to confront their ass. But those of us who knew them knew that they were all bark with no got-damn bite.
Brandie looked at me. “The next time you go out, Audrey, you need to make sure you have your dog,” she glanced at Mariah, “on a leash.”
Mariah laughed out loud, about to lay hands on Brandie again before I pulled her away.
“Chill, Mariah!” I squealed. “I got you in, boo, so you need to make sure you stay your ass out of trouble!” I reminded Mariah as she pulled away from me. “We both know the reason why Brandie is hatin’ right now. I used word of mouth to get you in, where as she used her mouth in other ways to get to where she is today. Which is nowhere but dancing on the set of videos before she’s fuckin’ and suckin’ niggas off the set of music videos.”
Brandie scoffed, folding her arms.
I still didn’t put shit past her. Sean wasn’t giving her jewelry for nothing. She was doing him some type of favor. I just didn’t know what it was yet. She must have known something that apparently he didn’t want her to tell.
Brandie looked me over. “Audrey, I don’t even know why you’re over here trippin’ off that nigga. Don’t nobody want Sean but you. Oh, and Brenda.”
Brandie’s friends giggled behind her.
“Shit, and that friend you’re always defending, fake-ass Fatima.” Brandie smirked.
I glared at Brandie.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Brenda trapped ya nigga. Did you know she has a baby with Sean? Their baby’s birthday is May 25th, 2013. But hold up, isn’t that the same due date the doctors gave you when you were pregnant?” Brandie grinned.
If Mariah hadn’t stepped in between the two of us, I swear, she would have had bruises on the right side of her face to match the left.
“A’ight, Brandie, you’re crossing the line. I suggest you shut the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up. You’re dirty as hell for bringing that shit up! That was your niece or got-damn nephew that was killed in that crash, muthafucka! That was your got-damn brother, too, who died in that crash, and you’re standing here making jokes about the shit just to hurt your sista!” Mariah snarled at Brandie, who had no heart to care about anything that Mariah was saying.
Brandie rolled her eyes to fight off any emotion that she may have felt about the fatal car crash. “All I’m saying is don’t nobody want that muthafucka like she thinks they do. Shit, she shouldn’t even want the muthafucka. I swear, I never touched that nigga, and I don’t want to neither. That nigga is broke as fuck, which is the only reason why he’s going over to work for Relentless. He doesn’t know he’s about to do some of everything to get that money. Ain’t no telling what type of hoes he’s about to be fuckin’ with now, Audrey. Fuck Sean. You need to be worried about who’s fuckin’ with Antwan. That’s the nigga I’m checkin’ for.”
I just looked at Brandie, feeling like snatching all that pretty sleek black hair from her scalp, right from the roots.
“Who wants a cheeseburger when I can have a juicy ass, Tuscan, sirloin steak?” Brandie scoffed.
“Girl, you’re trippin’. You know Sean’s meat is juicy than a muthafucka too!” Brandie’s teammate, Julie, high-fived another dancer.
I had had enough. I had to walk away before I beat one of them bitches. I knew Sean was so not worth fighting over, but the blatant disrespect was what made me want to beat the shit out of my sister and her friends.
Brandie grabbed my arm before I could walk away. “Awe, don’t be like that. They were only joking.”
I tried pulling from her, but she wouldn’t let go of my arm.
She looked into my face before letting go of my arm. And she slid my glasses from my face. It was the first time that my sister actually looked me in the face with any type of remorse. It didn’t last long though.
Mariah snatched the glasses from Brandie’s hands and gave them back to me. I couldn’t cover my face with makeup the way that Brandie did. I was allergic to any and everything. The only makeup I wore was mascara and lipstick.
“What the fuck happened to her face, Mariah?” Brandie glanced at Mariah and then back at me.
“Oh, what do you care? Y’all are over here, cracking jokes and shit about the girl.” Mariah snapped on Brandie.
“Sean did this shit to her, didn’t he? I told Audrey from the jump not to fuck with that nigga! That he was no good! And that was way before the fame, way before he made a name for himself in the industry, way before the hoes, way before the cheating, and apparently way before he thought it was cool to put his got-damn hands on her! That must be the type of shit she likes though because she’s still with the nigga.” Brandie folded her arms, looking me over. “Too afraid to venture off on her own and leave that nigga behind. That was a cute little song you did last night. Too bad you didn’t mean it. You talked all that shit and still got the nerve to accept that nigga’s engagement ring.”
Mariah and I looked at one another and then back at Brandie.
Brandie eyed the clueless expression on both of our faces. “He announced your engagement this morning on the radio, on 95.5.”
I stumbled back. “What?”
“Yeah, he mentioned y’all having an engagement party next weekend. I’m like, boy, that was quick. I thought she told the nigga to pack his shit.” Brandie shook her head at me.
Man, my head was spinning. I was in a daze that afternoon, sitting across from Karen in her office, as her assistant explained the paperwork that I would be signing. I couldn’t believe that after everything Sean did to me the night before that he would have the audacity to broadcast an engagement over the airways. Everyone had got wind of the supposed engagement. He was trying to prove a point to Antwan. Trying to prove that, no matter how much he mistreated me, he still owned me. That I would still run back to the nigga. As soon as I sat across from Karen that day in her office, she slid the gray velvet box across the table to me. Inside was the most beautiful engagement ring. I remember my father buying my mother a similar ring back when I was in middle school. My mother was into all types of jewelry, especially anything made by Tiffany & Co. Anything she wanted from that jewelry store, Daddy’s guilt about the things he took her through would make him go out and get it for her. She came home one day with the prettiest patented cushion-cut Tiffany diamond ring. The diamond was surround by bead-set diamonds. The white-gold ring was so shiny that it almost appeared to be sky blue. The ring was an apology gift my father had given her after a huge fight they’d had the night before, after a woman called the house, telling my mother that she was pregnant. And there I was, sitting at Karen’s desk that day, looking at basically the same
got-damn ring.
I huffed, gazing at the ring. As pretty as it was, it symbolized something that I hated. I didn’t have the worst childhood, but I sure as hell didn’t have the best. My father was an awesome father when it came to taking care of his children and spending time with us, but as far as a husband, he should have been fired.
“That is a beautiful ring.” Karen’s assistant, Vita-Jean, eyed me staring down at the ring.
“But, why is it in your box and not on your finger?”
I laughed a little, looking up at Vita-Jean. “I was wondering the same damn thing.” I looked at Karen.
Karen shook her head at me like I must have been crazy not to consider the fact that Sean was proposing to me to be the best news I’d received all day. “Sean Lee is proposing to you. I repeat, Sean Lee is proposing to you! Sean Lee is about to bring this company millions! A.J. Miller asked me to sign you because of your affiliation with Sean. Antwan has his own reasons for wanting to work alongside you, but my agenda includes money. Yours should too. When a nigga like Sean Lee wants you to do whatever, you do it.”
“Sean Lee ain’t shit, Karen!” I took the glasses from my face, tossing them on the table.
Both of the two looked at me, eyes tracing the bruises that lined my jawbone and ear.
“Ummm.” Vita-Jean tried to stay out of my business and continue getting me prepared to work with the company. “Here is your iPhone, iPad, and iWatch.” She slid over three brand new electronic devices that I should have been happy about, but I wasn’t at the moment.
“Karen, would you marry a muthafucka who smacked you in the face? Who held you down and raped you in the ass, no Vaseline?” I squealed, telling Karen something I hadn’t said out loud to anyone yet.
Karen gasped a little.
Vita-Jean’s eyes widened before she went back to organizing the paperwork that she had me sign that morning. She didn’t know what to say. I think she was actually afraid to say anything.
“Sean Lee raped me, and I’m supposed to take this ring as an apology gift, Karen? Would you?” I exclaimed.
The LyricsTo His Song Page 7