God Don't Like Haters 2

by Jordan Belcher

  "That Kirbie shit is bogus, Ashleigh."

  "Just leave me alone, Coras. I need time to think about if I still wanna be with you after all you put me through."

  I knew if I persisted I could get her to open those legs up, but my phone made a chiming sound and I wanted to find out if it was Kirbie replying to my Site message. Sure enough, it was. I tapped the link and read every word she wrote to me. I was so excited I jackknifed up in bed.

  Ashleigh looked back at me over her shoulder. I had startled her. "What happened?"

  "You won't believe this."

  "What?"

  "Kirbie just forwarded me a message from Sundi Ashworth, the A&R at Mount Eliyah ENT. Sundi wants to fuck wit' Kirbie!" I stood up excitedly. "This is it, Ashleigh! Once Kirbie gets her foot in, we're in too!"

  Ashleigh sat up. She looked strangely concerned. "You don't believe that, do you?"

  "What? The message from Sundi? I know Kirbie wouldn't make that up."

  "No, I'm talking about Kirbie getting her foot in and coming back for us. She doesn't care about us. She never cared about Swope Records. It's always been about her. That's why she quit on us so easily."

  "Nah, Kirbie is a loyal person. She just got tired and Archie got in her head. She wouldn't have sent me this message asking me what to say back if she planned on ditching us." I started pulling on my pants.

  "Kirbie was just bragging. Coras, where are you going?"

  "She wanted me to meet her in the studio and get some of her music on a compressed file just in case Sundi wants to hear more."

  Ashleigh slapped her hands down on the mattress violently. "No!" she screamed. "Not at this time of night!"

  "What are you talking about? I'm always in the studio at this time of night. It's not even one yet. This is early."

  "I don't want you two in the studio by yourselves."

  "Why not?"

  "You know why!"

  "Ashleigh, you're being jealous for no reason."

  "You just said I was your number one now. I don't have that right to make you stay home?"

  "Nobody has that right."

  "I'm going then," Ashleigh insisted.

  "No, you're not."

  "I am too. I'm the manager!"

  "I thought you wanted to be alone."

  "I'm going!"

  "You know that's not a good idea. We won't get anything accomplished because yall will be fighting each other the whole time. Nah, I'm not gonna let either one of you fuck up this opportunity."

  I was tightening my Gucci belt and heading for the door at the same time.

  "Coras, if you walk out of this room, I'm never speaking to you again! I promise you it'll be toast for your black ass!"

  I didn't even break stride. I was down the steps, had grabbed her Volvo keys out of her purse and yanked open the front door before she could finish telling me how sorry I'd be.

  Chapter 15

  Kirbie Amor Capelton

  I let myself inside Gee's house with a spare key he'd given me a long time ago. Coras had one too. Gee had given us both a whole set—home key, car key, liquor cabinet key—to hold because he always misplaced his. He'd get drunk and completely forget what happened to them. Like, really have no clue. Sometimes he found them later in his coat pocket, or under his car seat, once inside the toilet beneath a layer of floating vomit, but more often than not he had to call me or Coras.

  Ashleigh didn't have a set.

  Inside his home, I closed the front door and locked it behind me. I used key number two to open up his liquor cabinet. Gee owned just about every popular liquor known to man, even a few rare and vintage bottles. It was hard trying to choose. I was still overexcited about the Site message from Sundi Ashworth, and I needed something strong to calm me down. I didn't think anything could, but I was about to try.

  I went for the Bacardi white rum and added some Coke to it. I was sipping as I made my way downstairs to the studio.

  I clicked on the lights.

  For some reason, all of the equipment before me seemed more important to me, more prestigious than it had before. This room played an enormous part in aligning the stars so Sundi could contact me. A 'hood-based basement studio. I ran my fingers across random knobs and buttons on the digital mixer, thinking about Gee and all the hours he put in to learn every input channel and built-in effect that this machine had to offer. He taught himself how to engineer. If this deal worked out with Sundi, I was going to try my hardest to get him to produce as many songs on my album as possible.

  Behind me, I heard someone coming down the steps.

  "What'chu drinking on?" Coras asked me with a smile, as he sipped from a glass filled with an alcohol similar in color to mine.

  "Rum and Coke," I said.

  His smile widened. "Me too," he replied. "Great minds drink alike."

  "It's think alike."

  "That too." He raised his glass. "To a wonderful career in mainstream music, filled with millions and millions of dollars in cash money."

  We clinked glasses.

  "Have you figured out what I should write back?" I asked him anxiously. "I don't wanna mess this up."

  "All you have to do is tell her you're very excited to talk to her and then leave your number."

  "What if I mess up on the phone call?"

  "You won't. Sounds like she wants to work with you just as bad as you wanna work with her. Just don't mention anything about her being a celebrity. Talk to her like you would any professional."

  I took another gulp of rum, smacking my lips at the bite in the aftertaste. I handed Coras my phone and asked him to type in whatever response he saw fit. He did, and handed me the phone back.

  "Now what?" I asked.

  "We wait."

  And while we waited for Sundi to call, Coras started turning on the studio equipment one button at a time. I had no idea how to operate any of it. Coras had been around Gee long enough to learn a thing or two, but to me it was all still foreign and complex. Using the wireless mouse, Coras attached some solo songs I'd completed—as well as a couple joint tracks and a few instrumentals too—to an email that he forwarded to me and CCed to himself. We were prepared to showcase more of our talent if need be.

  "I'm so excited, Coras. I can't believe it. This is what we've been waiting for." I was holding my drink with both hands now because I was afraid I'd drop it otherwise. "I told Archie about the message and he thought it was a scam."

  "Does he know you're here?"

  “No. I snuck out after he fell asleep. Do they know you're here?"

  They—Ashleigh and Monifa.

  "Ashleigh does, Monifa doesn't."

  "Did you tell Ashleigh about Sundi's message to me?"

  He paused to sip his drink, and that said a lot.

  "What'd she say?" I asked. "I can't believe she let you come here."

  He said, "Let's just say I might not be welcome in her house after tonight."

  "I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I just didn't have anyone else to run this by. This is big."

  "I'm happy to be here. Happy to celebrate this moment with you. Fuck what either one of them is talking about."

  "I wish Gee was here," I said.

  "I do too, Kirbie. I do too."

  I felt tears welling in my eyes as I thought of Gee laying in a hospital bed unconscious. I didn't want to show my emotions in front of Coras again—I had been crying too much lately—so I dipped my head to take another sip of rum. As I swallowed, Coras lifted my glass from my hand and set it on the table with his. He took me into his strong arms.

  I began to sob.

  "I'm sorry for quitting on you guys," I managed.

  "It's all good. Everything that happened up until now was supposed to happen. All our ups and downs led us to this moment. Just don't let us down when your time comes to shine."

  "I won't." I paused, trying to get myself together. "What if Sundi asks me to sign with them? Do I tell them I'm already signed to Swope Records?"

&nbs
p; "No, hell no. You take what they're offering. Mount Eliyah ENT is a machine. I'ma rip up our Swope contract. It never existed. I want what's best for you."

  "You're gonna make me cry harder. And I'm not the crying type."

  "I know. You're a Scorpio. I won't tell nobody."

  I smiled. "Thank you."

  I loved the strength in Coras's embrace. His sign was Aquarius, the water-bearer symbol, and historically his kind knew how to show affection. I felt protected and valued and understood, as his chin rested on the top of my head. I got wet in the mouth when his hand grazed up and down the curve of my spine, comforting me. And my breath went away—I felt like I could barely stand—when his fingers broke path and ventured into the waistline of my jeans. Only his fingers up to his knuckles could fit because my jeans were so tight. But he was still feeling a part of my skin he'd never felt before.

  Then his fingers began to worm-crawl deeper into my jeans, until he was cupping one of my ass cheeks. I shivered when he squeezed, and my pussy gripped on its own in a reflex of pure want. I should have stopped him the moment I felt his fingers going too low. I was engaged to Archie. This wasn't right. But in my adrenaline-pumped mind, I was trying to rationalize—as long as I don't do anything back, it's not cheating.

  Coras kept squeezing that one cheek and it was turning me on at a rate that was becoming too much for my human body to handle. My heart was thump-thump-thumping incredibly fast, as if it were responding to some imminent danger. But the only threat was sexual.

  Coras threw out another comment, as if we weren't even holding each other. He was remarkably composed. "It's a lot of hot artists signed to Mount Eliyah, so you're gonna have to work hard to stand out and be seen."

  "I know," I said mildly, but it came out as a moan.

  He would squeeze hard, then soft, just exploring the thickness of this half of my backside, seeing what my flesh could withstand. Then he tried to maneuver his other hand inside to get to booty cheek two, but this time there was really no more room, not even if he forced it. A thought popped in my head that I should have been ashamed of: I wish I would've worn a stretchier pair.

  "No half-stepping," he told me.

  "I'm gonna work my ass off as soon as I'm signed," I said. Then, I realized I'd said ass.

  He noticed too. "Yeah, work this muthafucka till it's sore." He kept palming my tush, while his other hand was still struggling at the waistline. "And I'ma do whatever I gotta do on my end to help push your first project and every one thereafter." Then, almost as an afterthought, he whispered, "Take these jeans off for me."

  I ignored that last part. "And I'ma be promoting you and Swope records and try to get you signed too."

  "Don't worry about me. You just focus on getting your foot in the door."

  The hand at the waistline began to pull back, and I foolishly thought he was about to pull his other hand out as well, assuming he'd felt what he needed to feel and now he was going to respect my commitment to Archie.

  Nope, wrong.

  He wedged his free hand low between our hug and popped the button holding my jeans together. He found my zipper. Ziiiiip—it was now down. Then he reached back around me and burrowed this second hand within my unleashed jeans effortlessly. My pussy blazed red hot at this new skin-to-skin contact, and every time he gave my buttocks a two-handed squeeze, I nearly heard my girlness squirt.

  My breathing was erratic. But quiet.

  I think.

  He said, "It's funny how you just put your all into something and then the pay-off just seems to come out of nowhere. Like, why now? Why did God pick this moment to give you this opportunity? I feel like we went through a lot of unnecessary bullshit."

  "We just have to be thankful."

  "You're right, Kirbie. And I am. It's just crazy how things seem to fall in place. I'm very thankful."

  His right hand began to roam, and every nerve-impulse in my body began to send warning signals to my brain. Alert! Stop him! Alert! This is not Archie's hand! Alert! I ignored them, letting Coras's fingers find and rub my velvety pussy lips. He took two fingers and split my drenched mound open, as a third finger explored the wetness of the inner flesh. He grazed my clit and I shuddered.

  Then the realization that Coras was about to fuck me hit home. It scared the hell out of me.

  Because I knew I didn't have the strength to stop him.

  I felt helpless, like all I could do was stand here and hold him and ball his shirt in my fists at the back. My bare ass was out, exposed, he was fingering my pussy, and my jeans were slowly working their way down my thighs thanks to gravity.

  Then my phone rang, which interrupted things.

  I was thankful. But I still didn't move until Coras let me go. I had been under his spell.

  "Answer it," he said. "Hurry."

  I hiked my jeans up—they weren't coming back down, I told myself—then grabbed my phone. "Hello?"

  "May I speak to Kirbie Amor, please?"

  "This is she," I said, barely containing my excitement.

  "Hey, Kirbie, this is Sundi Ashworth and I just read your reply. So, you're ready to be famous, huh?"

  Chapter 16

  Monifa Chavis

  I should have been sleep but couldn't because I was thinking about Coras. I hadn't talked to him since the shooting. But I knew my baby was all right because everybody on The Site was commenting that Gee Beats was the only one that got hospitalized. I expected Coras to call me by now, either to apologize for cheating on me with Kirbie, or curse me out for having his producer shot.

  But I hadn't heard from him at all and it worried me. Was he going to leave me? Had he already left me? I never saw that as an option because he needed my brother's drugs.

  In my panic, I deleted the Site comment I made about him never kissing another bitch in the studio because it referenced that I was bragging about the tragic shooting backstage. It was a stupid comment, insensitive and bird-brained, and I should have never posted it. Coras was probably mourning right now and he needed me. But he wouldn't answer my calls. I even called a friend of mine and had her call him on three-way and he still wouldn't answer.

  I went through my call log and tapped my brother Milo's number, then put the phone to my ear.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, brother, it's Monifa."

  "Look, I don't have time to talk."

  "What's going on?"

  "I have to close down shop and find a new spot because of you. My name is all in the mix in the Sprint Center shooting and I wasn't even there."

  "How is that my fault? I never told you to shoot anybody."

  I heard Milo yelling at people in the background to hurry up and grab some mags—or "bags"; it was hard to understand Milo when he was yelling, even harder over the phone. I assumed that Milo got word that there was about to be a kick-in. This wouldn't be the first time that he had to relocate.

  I was starting to feel guilty.

  "What do you want, Monifa?" he asked with strong annoyance. Then he yelled at someone else in the background to "hurry the fuck up before you're the next to get shot. I can't believe you shot that man. Yall were supposed to jump 'em." I heard a smack—Milo probably disciplining a worker with a pop to the head—then he remembered he was on the phone and spoke. It was all irritation: "Hello?"

  "Yes, Milo, I was just calling to find out if you've talked to Coras."

  "I texted him."

  "About what?"

  "What do you think? I told him it wasn't supposed to go down like that."

  "He texted back?"

  "No."

  "So are yall gonna work it out?"

  "I don't know and I don't fucking care right now. Look, Monifa, I gotta go."

  "Wait—"

  He hung up.

  I looked at my phone, then set it beside me on the couch. Apparently Milo and Coras were still at odds, but as far as me and Coras ... I didn't know where we stood. There was no "official" rule that said Coras had to be with me to keep receiving do
pe from my brother, but it was definitely implied. I hoped this whole shooting debacle didn't change everything. I loved Coras.

  I took a drink of champagne, then set it back on the coffee table. I grabbed my phone and logged into The Site under Coras's profile. I'd rather be checking his phone texts, but since I didn't have access to his phone then his private Site messages were the next best thing to find out his whereabouts. I was surprised, and highly upset, by what I saw in his account. The last exchange in his inbox was between him and Kirbie.

  "Oh really, nigga?" I said to myself in disbelief. "You haven't learned, have you?"

  Then I began to read.

  Kirbie Amor: Coras, read this message and tell me what you think. It's from Sundi Ashworth, and I know I don't have to tell you who she is. Here's what she put: [Sundi Ashworth: Hello, Kirbie, my name's Sundi Ashworth (A&R) and I'm sending you this message in regards to my interest in your musical talent. I'm a representative of a major record label, and I think you and your voice have the potential to become one of the biggest artists this industry has ever seen. This is not spam. This is for real. My profile page will confirm my authenticity. If you would like to further your career and become a household name, please reply as soon as possible. I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you]. Coras, isn't that crazy!!! It's really her! I was thinking about getting some more music ready for her just in case she wants to hear more. Can you meet me at the studio?

  Coras Bane: I'm on my way now.

  I looked at the time frame between each of the posts and they were only seven minutes apart. That meant that Coras had dropped whatever he was doing at the time—what had he been doing?—just to respond to her.

  So now they were probably at the studio at this very moment fucking each other's brains out.

  "Son of a bitch," I said out loud. "Maybe he should've caught the bullet instead of Gee. That pussy didn't learn his lesson."

  I bounced off the couch and went upstairs to get dressed. I threw on my Nike Roshe Runs with the soft insole and padded collar; they were my kick-a-bitch-ass pair, with a full mesh upper and phylon midsole. On my way back down the steps, I was checking my purse for my handgun. It was in here, right next to my wristlet that held my ID and credit cards. I was contemplating if it was wise to carry the wristlet if I was about to commit a murder.