1 Night Stand

by Amaleka McCall

  Melody chuckled, although it contradicted the scowl on her face. “Oh, it better be very important,” she said, folding her arms over her chest.

  “It’s your mother. I mean, Ava Love,” he stuttered, trying his best to keep his voice down.

  A hot feeling came over her. Just the mention of Ava’s name made her sick to her stomach these days. She was an embarrassment to say the least. Being associated with Ava was not good for Melody’s image or career as of late.

  “Ava Love? What now?” Melody sucked her teeth, disgust painting her face into a mean mug. “Is that what the hell you interrupted me for? To tell me some dumb shit about Ava?” Melody had told her mother six months ago that she didn’t want anything to do with her, although Melody still sent Ava a monthly allowance. Melody didn’t send her the money out of the kindness of her heart, but more so to keep her away.

  “Melody, I know how you are about getting emotional in front of people, so why don’t we step out of the studio and talk in private?” Gary implored. His voice was high-pitched and quivering. His eyes were bugged out like he was holding back his tears.

  “I swear to every God I know, this better be important, Gary,” Melody hissed. She turned around. “Ladies, take your steps from the top. I have to take this call and I’ll be right back. I expect perfection.”

  Melody knew she’d be firing some of them. They either weren’t coordinated enough to dance or they were too damn pretty and thus made her look less attractive in comparison. There would be no upstaging Melody Love. When the cameras rolled and the stage lights flashed, there could be only one shining star.

  Melody reluctantly followed Gary out of the dance studio doors and into the small private changing room. They stepped inside the room. The air inside of the room was stale with old sweat and leftover perfume, and now it was filled with tension. Melody’s insides were churning with curiosity and anxiety.

  “Mel, you might want to sit down, honey,” Gary said softly, his mouth sagging at the edges.

  “Just tell me what’s going on, Gary. How bad can it be? I mean, shit, did she get drunk again and make a spectacle of herself for the paparazzi? Did she go harass some record executive, screaming about how great she once was? Or wait, let me guess, she got caught giving head to another much younger NBA player in the back of some sports car that she was much too old to even be a passenger in. No, I have a better one. She’s gone to the Ritz and asked to be put up in the presidential suite, free of charge, because she is the mother of Melody Love.”

  Any of these scenarios were highly likely where her mother was concerned. Although Melody was a big name in the music industry, she was still embarrassed by her mother’s outrageously juvenile behavior.

  “No, Mel. It’s worse, hun,” Gary murmured. He lowered his head, wringing his fingers together in front of him. He cleared his throat and refused to look Melody in the eyes.

  “Please. What can be worse than—” Melody was saying.

  “Mel, Ava is dead,” Gary said in a rush of breath, cutting her off. Melody’s mouth snapped shut.

  “I got the call from Murray today.”

  Melody didn’t flinch. She didn’t open her mouth. She didn’t move an inch.

  “Mel? Are you okay?”

  Gary didn’t wait. He grabbed her and forced his arms around her shoulders for a hug. Melody kept her arms down at her sides and didn’t return his embrace. Her body was rigid.

  “She’s dead, baby girl. I’m so sorry,” Gary whimpered.

  His words felt like sharp stabs in Melody’s gut. She set her jaw and pursed her lips. You better not cry, Melody. Crying is for weak people. Crying is not for the famous. She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and pushed Gary away. She felt a very painful, hard lump forming in her throat. It took a few seconds before she could speak.

  “Is that what you interrupted my rehearsal for?” she said in a low, gruff tone. She moved forward and jutted a chastising finger in Gary’s face. Her eyes hooded over with contempt.

  “Fucking imbecile. Never interrupt me from something as important as my tour unless Jesus lands in my backyard and wants to sing a duet with me. Understand?” Melody gritted, her face filling with blood. Her chest was tight; it was difficult to breathe. Her mind swirled with a tornado’s eye of emotions.

  “Don’t sit your ass in here worrying about me. You have a job to do, so go do it. You need to be out there promoting the 1 Night Stand tour. I have rehearsal to attend and a career to keep on track,” she snapped, turning swiftly and giving him her back.

  “You can front for everybody else, but I know you, Melody Love. She is your mother and she is dead. It’s okay to feel sad,” Gary called out, his voice cracking.

  “Fuck you, Gary.” Melody almost turned around and slapped him, but she resisted the temptation and kept walking.

  “Your sisters will be coming to town. You will have to face them, like it or not, Melody,” Gary fired back.

  His words made her pause. Melody felt a sharp pain in her heart as it filled with fear and remorse. She leaned against the wall to brace herself against the onslaught of emotions. She really didn’t have time today to think about her past—mother or sisters. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to forge ahead. The last time she saw her sisters was the day Ava and Murray announced that she would be going solo.

  New York, New York

  March, 2011

  “Well, I called all of you down here with some news,” Ava said, looking at each of her daughters seriously. “After a two year layoff, Andrew Harvey’s sudden death, and loads of drama about the group’s last album sales, the label has finally made us another deal,” Ava announced.

  Harmony smiled and reached out and squeezed Lyric’s hand. Melody averted her eyes to her newly manicured nails, trying her best to keep a poker face.

  “Finally,” Lyric said. “I really miss performing. It takes my mind off stuff.”

  “But,” Ava continued, noticing Harmony and Lyric’s excitement. Melody folded her lips in, waiting for the bomb to drop. Her hands were shaking.

  “This one is for Melody. Alone. The group is going to be dismantled for now, except maybe for an occasional Christmas album and maybe one of those huge reunion tours that bring in so much money years after a group breaks up.”

  “We won’t close the door on getting Sista Love back together either,” Murray Fleischer interjected.

  Harmony’s features shuttered closed. Lyric’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked from Harmony to Ava, and then to Melody.

  Melody finally smiled. A warm sense of satisfaction filled her chest. She was so proud.

  Harmony slid to the edge of her seat, her face stony. “Just like that? She can leave us behind just like that. All of our hard work and we’re just out without a backup plan? We haven’t had an album or tour in two years. What are we supposed to do while she goes solo?”

  Ava sighed and looked over at Murray.

  “C’mon, Harmony. You knew Melody was the star from the beginning. You knew this was coming. Supremes, Destiny’s Child . . . the star always leaves and moves on to bigger and better things,” Ava responded.

  Murray nodded his head in agreement. He coughed, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s all a part of the business. Girl groups have a certain lifespan, and Sista Love’s time is up,” Murray said, his face flushing pink. Harmony rolled her eyes at him. Lyric let out a sigh and shook her head.

  “You just used us. All of those painfully long practices, all of the things we gave up—like for one, being kids. All so you could have your favorite stand on our backs to make it to the top,” Lyric screamed, her legs bouncing up and down.

  “Ava, I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower than some of the shit you put us through in the name of fame, but blindsiding us like this is your new low. And you, Melody, I guess it wasn’t enough that you were the top earner. It wasn’t enough that we lived in your shadow. It wasn’t enough that your baby sister—” Harmony paused abruptly and darted her
eyes toward Lyric.

  Lyric shot up from her seat and gave everyone in the room one last look of disgust. Then she stormed out of the studio, slamming the door so hard she nearly smashed the glass pane in the door.

  “I guess nothing was enough for you. You had to have it all to yourself,” Harmony accused.

  Melody placed her hand on her chest and raised her eyebrows like she was an innocent bystander being accused of a crime. “I can’t control what the label wants, Harmony. They wanted me. Alone,” Melody replied. She really didn’t understand why her sisters couldn’t just be happy for her.

  Ava laughed at Harmony’s outburst. “Let me tell you something. Your ugly ass should be grateful Melody let you stay in the group to even become famous. In my day, a black bitch like you wouldn’t be let on stage, let alone to be a part of a Grammy-winning, chart-topping group. You would be a broke bitch looking for a welfare check. You should be kissing the ground your sister walks on,” Ava spat.

  Harmony set her jaw and took the verbal slap like a woman. She gathered her things. “I’m out of here,” Harmony murmured. “You finally got what you wanted, Ava. Finally got your favorite her rightful spot at the top.”

  “Leave then, you coward. You always were a coward, just like your no-good-ass father,” Ava spat.

  Harmony swayed on her feet like she’d taken a boxer’s uppercut.. Her eyes hooded over with contempt and her nostrils flared. She moved a few steps closer to her mother with her right pointer finger jutted out in front of her.

  “Coward? Coward? Too bad the real coward is you, Ava Love, since you chose to keep my father from me all of my life because you were too afraid to face the fact that you failed. Too afraid to admit that you got fucked and left because all you ever were was a second string. Second string singer. Second string mistress. Second string daughter. Never number one in anyone’s eyes,” Harmony hissed. She turned toward the door.

  Ava’s face flushed red. “You’re nothing without me. Nothing without your sister,” Ava screamed at Harmony’s back. “You’re never going to be shit but a nappy-headed wanna-be who was the mistake that ruined my whole life.” Ava’s voice cracked.

  Harmony paused. Her hands curled into fists on their own. Every muscle in her body stiffened.

  Before anyone could react, Harmony turned and barreled into her mother like a bulldozer. She slapped Ava so hard she fell back flat on her butt. Ava let out a high-pitched scream. Suddenly, Harmony was on top of Ava like a lion on a gazelle.

  “I hate you! I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Harmony was devil-possessed; she screeched at her mother, throwing wild slaps and punches. “You ruined my life! That wasn’t enough! Nothing was ever enough for you!” Harmony screamed, swiping viciously at her mother’s face, taking a chunk of skin off with her nails.

  Ava hollered at the top of her lungs in agony. Murray tried to loosen Harmony’s grip on Ava’s hair. He finally gave up and scrambled to the phone.

  “Security! I need security!”

  It took four studio security guards to get Harmony off of Ava. The fire flashing in Harmony’s eyes reflected pure, unadulterated hatred.

  Melody cowered in the corner, shock etched on her face. She had never seen her sister like this. Over the years, Melody had heard her mother say some pretty cruel things to Harmony, and her sister had always just taken it.

  Once the security guards had Harmony in their grasp, Ava seemed to become emboldened. She got up from the floor with help from Murray and began straightening her hair and clothes.

  “Go on. Leave. I have all of your money and you won’t get a red cent. Take the clothes on your back. Those were thanks to your sister and me, too. You have nothing, and that’s just what you deserve,” Ava said through bloody teeth.

  “You can have that blood money, but I tell you what I will walk away with: my morals and my dignity. At least I don’t have to ever live with the fact that I sold my daughters to the highest bidder, literally, just so I could feel better about my washed-up, wasted, nothing-ass life. I want to thank you for one thing—that’s being such a horrible mother. Now, when and if I ever become one, at least I’ve learned from you what not to do,” Harmony retorted, lurching forward, causing the guards to clamp down harder on both of her arms.

  “And you, you disgrace. You will never prosper this way,” Harmony said, her evil eyes now trained on Melody as the security guards attempted to drag her from the room. “You may have great fame, but you’ll always be miserable. You’ll never know peace and love. You’ll be just like your mother, a prostitute for fame, and when the world is done with you—because just like every bitch diva that ever lived, one day the fans will fade and there will be no one left to cheer for you—you’ll have no one to love you.”

  Melody stuck out her chin and lifted her chest. She wanted so badly to cry and scream and beg both of her sisters not to go, but that wasn’t her style. Being tough and obstinate was who she was, and she couldn’t change it.

  “You’re just jealous of me—always have been, always will be,” Melody shot back. “Get her out of here.”

  As Harmony was hauled away like a common criminal, her words played in Melody’s ears over and over: “You’ll be just like your mother. You’ll always be miserable. You’ll have no one to love you.”

  “Forget both of those little bitches. You’re the real star,” Ava said to Melody, dabbing at her busted mouth with Murray’s cloth handkerchief. “Who needs love when you’ll have money and fame?”

  “Exactly. I’m going to have it all,” Melody said. She turned away so Ava and Murray wouldn’t see the tears rimming her eyes.

  Melody felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t the taste of regret. It was the taste of fear, apprehension, and already, loneliness.

  * * *

  Melody shook off her memory and returned to the rehearsal with a renewed sense of purpose. She watched her dancers move in unison. It was an acceptable performance, but not good enough. Melody wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection.

  “Let’s take it from the top,” she ordered, clapping her hands as she made her way to the middle of the floor. They all halted mid-step, as if she’d hit the pause button.

  “Is everything okay, Mel?” Leslie asked.

  “Start the fucking music,” Melody snapped. How dare she question me? She snatched the hair-tie out of her hair and shook her head until her hair fell like a lion’s mane around her shoulders.

  “Hut. Let’s go. No distractions and no more stopping. Period,” Melody called out as she slipped into her stilettos.

  All six dancers fell into line and proceeded to do the first set. Melody swung her head up and down, gyrated her hips, and moved to the music. She got to the fourth count, and before she knew what happened, her face collided with the hardwood floor. A sharp pain shot from her nose straight up to her brain. It felt like all of the bones that made up her skull had shattered. She could taste blood in the back of her throat and see small squirms of light invading her peripheral vision.

  “Oh my God,” Leslie screeched. “Melody, are you all right?”

  Melody opened her eyes. Pain daggered through her skull. The dancers had all gathered around her, their faces contorted into different stages of shock and horror. Leslie bent down and helped Melody to her feet. The pain intensified as she stood. The room spun.

  “Ms. Love, I . . . I’m so sorry. My leg caught a cramp and I almost fell. I didn’t mean to use you to break my fall. Oh my God, I am so, so sorry,” one of the dancers apologized, her hands out in front of her pleadingly.

  “Are you okay?” Leslie asked again.

  Melody blinked as things started coming back into focus. Blood pooled under the skin near her eyes, and her temples pulsed with pain. Melody lifted her hand to her face and touched the bridge of her nose. An explosion of pain caused her to see fireworks.

  A fucking broken nose three weeks before the tour kicks off.

  Th
e reality caused a fury of white, hot heat to rise from her toes to her chest. She squinted her eyes into little dashes and looked at all of their faces. The adrenaline coursing through her veins seemed to numb the pain. Everyone in the room was seemingly rooted to the floor, scared to death.

  Melody stepped out of her stilettos and bent over to pick up a lone shoe, as if to examine the heel. “I am fine,” she said in a low growl, her heartbeat thumping in her throat. They all looked relieved.

  “Yes, I am perfectly fine,” Melody said in an unsettlingly calm tone.

  Before anyone could move, Melody spun around and drove the five-inch heel right into the guilty dancer’s head. The girl emitted a blood-curdling scream and crumpled to her knees.

  “You’re fired,” Melody said, panting maniacally, blood dripping from her nose and spit spraying from her lips. “You’re fucking fired.” Melody stood brooding over her victim. Everyone in the room froze. There were agape mouths, wide eyes, hands clasped over lips, and arched eyebrows.

  “You’re fired!” Melody raised her fists and hit the girl again. Screams rose and fell, reverberating off of the studio walls.

  “Please!” the victim cried.

  Melody could no longer control what had overtaken her. Her mother was dead. Her tour would have to be cancelled or at a minimum postponed. She had to face her sisters.

  “You’re fired. You’re fired,” Melody screamed repeatedly. Sweat pooled over her face and neck as she hit the girl over and over like she was hammering a nail into a piece of wood. Blood was everywhere. Tears ran down her face like a gushing stream. Spit escaped her mouth. She could taste the girl’s blood as it splattered against her lips.

  “You’re fired!”

  “You’re going to kill her,” someone in the room screamed.

  The only sound Melody heard was the pounding of her own broken heart.

  Chapter 3

  Lyric

  Lyric was jolted out of her sleep by a sharp pain in her side. She moaned and tried to open her eyes, but they were glued shut, and the effort to open them hurt like hell.