“Lyric? You all right?” Rebel called out, knocking on the bathroom door. Lyric jumped fiercely and looked around the steamy bathroom, dazed. Before she could say another word, Rebel was standing above her, a frown marring his forehead.
“Lyric? What happened? Why are you on the floor crying?”
“No worries, I’m good.” She pulled herself together enough to stand on her feet.
“You scared me to death. I thought you fell and hurt yourself,” Rebel said, wrapping a large plush towel around her body as he helped her out.
“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to baby me,” she said, swatting away his hands.
Rebel stood back and stared at her for several long seconds.
“What? Do I still look like shit on a stick or something?” Lyric asked, feeling like her old self again.
“No, you look more beautiful than ever,” Rebel said, leaning forward and kissing her softly on the lips. Lyric allowed him the intimacy. It was the first normal thing she had done in a long time. She wished she could hold on to this feeling forever. Sadly, these moments tended to be fast and fleeting in her life.
Chapter 21
Melody
Melody’s heart thrummed as she sat across the visitor room table from Gary. She knew if she went wild and crazy on him like she wanted to, the correctional officers would haul her away and she’d never get to say what was on her mind. She was surprised he’d agreed to her request for a visit. He was bolder than Melody ever gave him credit for.
Melody could see that he was fighting to keep his usual smirk at bay. She could tell that he was mocking her appearance in his head. Gone were her usually perfectly coiffed locks of hair; instead, they were replaced with a messy, thick ponytail held back with a cheap, beige rubber band. Gone was her flawlessly applied makeup; instead, her natural skin was marred with dark circles and under eye bags, chapped lips, and ashen skin. She was dying for a bottle of expensive moisturizer. The cheap shampoos and soaps were destroying her hair and skin.
Gary reeked of cologne. His expensive Gucci shirt and gleaming Rolex watch made Melody feel even more self-conscious. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide.
“Melody,” he said, the first to break the awkward silence. She didn’t answer; instead, she flared her nostrils and drummed her fingers on the table.
“You must be thinking that I betrayed you and you can’t understand why,” Gary said. Melody shifted in her seat, her leg bouncing under the table.
“I’ll just tell you why, then. Remember all of the times, in the beginning, that you took such great pleasure in humiliating me?” he asked. Melody rolled her eyes. She had promised herself she wouldn’t say a word to him until he was finished, but she couldn’t bite her tongue any longer.
“Humiliate you? I fucking picked you up from the gutter, Gary. You came to that first audition and had been out on the streets selling your ass to gay businessmen,” she whispered harshly. Gary gasped, his hand fluttering against his throat.
“Oh, you thought I didn’t know what you were doing to make ends meet? I knew, but I still saw something special in you. When I made jokes about your sexuality, they were just that—jokes. When I held your pay, it was because you didn’t deliver. I never humiliated you. I thought you were my fucking friend,” she growled.
Gary swallowed hard. “It was everything else too. The demands. The bitching. The slaps in the face. The constant name-calling. You even punched me and spat at me in front of everyone. A man can only take so much abuse. You’re telling me you did all of that to ‘build my character’? I don’t think so,” he retorted.
“You do remember those times, don’t you?” Gary pressed. Melody sighed. She did remember that sometimes she would take her frustrations out on him.
* * *
The conference room in the midtown Manhattan building that housed Melody’s recording studio, business offices, and dance studio was packed with her staff. Melody sat at the head of the table, her hair and makeup flawless, as usual.
“Well,” she sighed, parting a huge smile. “I’ve called you all here for some big news. Gary called; he’s on his way. He said he has the news. I wanted all of you to be here when it was announced,” Melody said. Hushed murmurs rose and fell down the long table. Melody giggled. She loved keeping her staff in suspense sometimes. It made her job more fun.
Finally Gary rushed into the conference room in a huff. His eyes immediately stretched wide, and his lips curled down at the sight of everyone.
“Here he is,” Melody cheered, standing up and opening her arms wide. Gary moved slowly, like a zombie.
“Get your ass over here. I called everyone here because you said you had the news. You said it would be better in person,” Melody said, her voice trailing as she noticed Gary’s creased forehead and slack jaw.
“Um, Mel, I . . . I . . . think we should talk about this . . . alone,” he stammered.
“What? No. Everyone here works for me; we’re a family,” she waved. “My news is all of their news.”
Gary swallowed hard and fanned himself with his hands. “But, Mel. I’m telling you, this news you might—”
“Stop being so fucking worrisome. Make the announcement, Gary,” Melody snapped. He sighed heavily.
“You didn’t get the part, Melody. They gave it to her,” he blurted. Melody knew who he was referring to. There had been only one other singing diva that had tried out for the Dreamgirls lead.
Melody’s face turned red. She parted a goofy smile. “Gary, stop kidding around. Don’t play like that,” she said. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt light-headed.
“Mel, it’s true,” Gary murmured. Everyone in the room seemed to freeze.
Melody’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Then why did you make me believe the news was good?” she gritted.
“I . . . I . . . didn’t,” he replied.
“You fucking faggot! You lying faggot!” Melody screamed, hot tears spilling down her face. The entire room erupted in whispers and gasps.
“I . . . I . . . didn’t lie,” he said. “I tried to—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Melody pounced on him and punched him in the face. Gary gasped and fell backward, caught off guard.
“You liar!” she yelled as she landed punches on Gary’s body at will. Melody’s producer, her choreographer, and her makeup artist all rushed over to break it up. As Melody was hoisted up off of Gary, she managed to get in one last kick, right to his face.
* * *
“I was under a lot pressure at those times. And, yes, maybe I flew off the handle a few times, but it didn’t change the fact that your life was much better because of me,” Melody shot back.
“I think being called a faggot several hundred times over the course of a friendship is more than a little ‘flying off the handle.’ You think my life was better with your physical and mental abuse, and then the flowers, cards, and expensive gifts afterward to win me back? You thought that was enough? Did you think I would just take that forever, Melody?” he snarled.
“We could’ve worked it out. We always did. Did you need to go this far? To set me up? Ruin me? I’ve had a lot of time to think, Gary. And it all makes sense to me now. That day you picked me up from the precinct . . . the constant barrage of questions about what the detectives knew about Ava’s death. You were worried. Real worried,” Melody said.
Detective Simpson’s voice played in her head just as it had since that night. Whoever poisoned your mother had to have regular, ongoing contact with her. This wasn’t done overnight. It took some time and planning.
“You had the opportunity, the time, and the motive. Then, you hired that man to attack Terikka. Whatever you gave him must’ve been out of this world, because he swore to the police that I hired him, and he won’t budge from his story. He’s going to jail, and he still won’t change his story. Did you think I wouldn’t figure out that you were the one that sold all the pictures of Ron and me to the tabloids and blog
s? I have to admit, Gary, you are one cunning bitch. Urging me to turn over power of attorney to you so you could take care of my business while I took a mental break. How much money did you steal from my accounts, Gary?”
“Very good, Sherlock,” Gary patted his fingers together simulating a clap. He leaned in closer to the table and squinted his eyes. “Every single thing you got was coming to you. You walked around thinking you were an untouchable diva, and I was sick of it. You can’t just fucking abuse people all of your life and think karma wouldn’t pay you back. I’ve always told you; karma is one crazy, vindictive bitch, and she always gets what she came for. I hope these years behind bars changes you for the better, Melody. I hope you learn how to be less evil and more human,” he said, standing to leave.
“You won’t get away with this, Gary. Just like you meted out your own form of justice on me, the universe will bring the real karma down on your ass. You just wait. Your time is coming,” Melody gritted. “Enjoy my money while you can because somebody will help me. I have somebody out there that loves me.”
Gary chortled. “Chile, bye. You ran all of your somebodies away a long time ago. Sly couldn’t stand your spoiled ass so he went and found himself a real woman to love. Even little old me got tired of your fucking abuse. And, of course, your sisters,” Gary said, laughing cruelly. “Sista Love. What a joke! After all of the years, you did them dirty and turned your back on them. You betrayed them in the worst possible way—two-timing with your own brother-in-law and paying hush money to keep the other one quiet. And those two were the only ones who ever gave a fuck about you, Melody Love. You just couldn’t see it because you were too busy looking at yourself.” He shook his head, and Melody lowered hers. Without another word, he walked away and signaled for the officers to let him out.
* * *
A week later, Melody was led into the courtroom in handcuffs and leg irons. A collective gasp rose and fell around the room. She wished she could just disappear off the face of the earth and put herself out of this misery.
The judicial system was a farce; the courtroom looked like a damn circus. The room was filled with people; everyone was trying to catch a glimpse of Melody Love, celebrity-turned-murderer. Television news reporters were jockeying for the best camera angles and the clearest shot of the infamous Melody.
“Ignore them all,” Robert Agnow, one of Melody’s high-powered legal team, whispered in her ear. Melody nodded, but she couldn’t stop her knees from knocking.
The court-appointed sketch artist was staring right at Melody while he scribbled wildly on his pad. Melody wished she could rush over, snatch his pad, and pound it over his head.
She tried to ignore the conversations buzzing around the room, but it was difficult to tune out.
“She killed her own mother.”
“She killed her ex-boyfriend’s baby.”
“She ruined her career.”
“Who knew she was such a monster?”
“Did you know she also slept with her sister’s husband? She had this coming to her.”
“I hope they throw the book at her. Celebrities all think they are above the law.”
Melody’s head pounded. The expensive clothes that her lawyers brought for her felt scratchy against her skin. Even her orange jumpsuit had been more comfortable than this. She looked at the clock hanging on the wall to her left and shifted on the hard wooden chair. In a few minutes, the judge would hear the state’s evidence against her. Melody knew she was innocent, but she wasn’t going to be able to prove it from behind bars.
Last night, she had prayed for the first time in many years. She asked God to forgive her for everything she’d done to her sisters. She asked God to reveal her mother’s real killer and to have mercy on both of their souls.
A small commotion erupted as the judge entered the room. A sense of foreboding came over the room as the judge slammed his gavel and told everyone to be seated. In all of her life, Melody never thought she would be in a situation like this—defending her innocence in public, like a common criminal.
“Counsel, you may approach,” the judge said.
Melody’s legs rocked, and her stomach flipped. All of the money in the world didn’t matter at the moment. Her fate was in the hands of one man.
As the judge and attorneys went through the formalities, Melody looked over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide when she noticed Harmony and Lyric sitting a few rows back in the courtroom. Melody stared at her sisters, wondering if they were secretly pleased with witnessing her demise. Lyric parted a warm smile and mouthed the words, “We got you. No matter what, we are sisters. We are family.”
Overwhelmed, Melody turned back around and clamped her hand over her mouth. Tears ran down her face. She never expected to see Harmony and Lyric again. Their support meant the world to her. If there was anything she should be on trial for, it should be for the way she treated her own flesh and blood. If that were the case, she would plead guilty as charged.
Melody lowered her eyes to her cuffed hands and forced herself to think of a better time in her life. A time when she was on top of the world.
* * *
The crowd chanted their name . . . “Sista Love! Sista Love! Sista Love!” By now, the girls should’ve been used to it. They’d sold out major arenas around the United States, but this was their first performance in the UK. They weren’t sure what sort of reception they would receive overseas.
“We are all the way across the pond with a packed stadium, and they’re calling our names,” Melody said dreamily as she sat for hair and makeup. That was another thing that had changed. They had an entire staff waiting on them—hair, makeup, a stylist, personal assistants. Sista Love was in the big leagues now.
“This gives me chills and makes my stomach crazy every single time. I don’t think this will ever be normal for me,” Harmony confided. Her hair was already done, and the makeup artist was adding the finishing touches.
“Why are the fans here so early? Our concert still has another forty minutes before it starts,” Lyric added, stepping into her show outfit—a pair of red hot pants and a bra top.
“I still can’t believe Ava trusted us with the staff and didn’t come along for the trip,” Melody added. “I kind of miss her standing around barking orders and making sure we’re absolutely perfect.”
Harmony laughed. “You would kind of miss her since she never yells at you or criticizes you. I’m personally glad she sat this trip out. Maybe she’s finally going to let us test our wings. After all of our sold-out shows and hit records, I think we can manage this without all of her nagging and micromanaging.”
“Enough about Ava. We have to kill it tonight. I hear these fans in Europe are hard to please when it comes to American performers,” Lyric said.
“Do you hear that crowd? Do you hear our names being shouted? They don’t sound very hard to please to me,” Melody smirked as she stepped into her red miniskirt and halter top. The showtime clock sitting in the center of the dressing room was counting down. She grew more excited with every minute that passed. She loved performing for a large crowd.
“Are you girls ready?” Lyhor, the show’s promoter, stuck his head in the doorway and asked in his distinctly English accent. Harmony gave the thumbs-up, Lyric bounced on her feet, and Melody spun around Dreamgirls style.
“We were born ready,” Melody answered theatrically.
“Showtime in three,” Lyhor reminded them before he disappeared behind a curtain.
Lyric fanned her hands in front of her. “I am so nervous. This is crazy.” Melody laughed at her.
“You say the same thing before every show.”
“It’s my good-luck statement. Remember, the one time I didn’t say that I was nervous? Well, my damn heel broke on stage, and I had to perform in one shoe. Not funny,” Lyric recalled. “It doesn’t pay for me to be cocky.”
“It’s not how you start . . . It’s how you finish,” Harmony said, simulating her best Ava voice. The girls hooted
in laughter.
“We don’t need luck when we’ve got each other. Our talent speaks for itself. Now, let’s go out there and give them a show they’ll never forget!” Melody was good at the pep talk.
“I agree. Now, bring it in,” Harmony said, opening her arms and summoning her sisters closer into a huddle hug.
“All we need is each other,” Melody led the chant. “All we need is each other, and all we got is each other,” Harmony and Lyric said. After repeating it three times, they broke up and headed straight for the stage.
The crowd roared as Melody, Harmony, and Lyric positioned themselves in theatrical poses behind the transparent curtains.
“London! Are you ready for us to show y’all some Sista Love?” Melody said in a sultry voice. She bucked her hips suggestively behind the curtain and switched to a different pose. The question sent the crowd into a frenzy.
“Can we show y’all some Sista Love?” Harmony asked, shaking her hips in a belly-dancing motion. Loud roars erupted from the fans.
“All right. C’mon and let Sista Love, love up on y’all,” Lyric finished, bouncing down on her legs and standing back up.
As the curtains were raised to reveal Harmony, Melody, and Lyric, the crowd went crazy. The beat to their hit song “Love Fool” cued up, and Melody took the first stanza. She hit every note; her vocals were stronger than ever. The fans in the first couple of rows were reaching out, screaming, and some were even crying. The energy in the room was electrifying; it fueled Melody and her sisters to perform at their highest levels.
There was not a single mistake made on stage that night. It was, by all accounts, a “perfect performance.” Their movements were fluid, each step executed just like they rehearsed. Six outfit changes and over twenty songs later, they performed their finale—a rendition of their first hit single: “Liar, Liar.” The song always took Melody back to the beginning when they were just three little girls practicing in their backyard and dreaming about becoming famous. Melody felt the emotion behind the song every time she performed it. The song had special meaning to her because she had written it with her sisters when they were all just kids. They could’ve never dreamed of it becoming such a hit when they sat together in their little Brooklyn brownstone writing it.
2 Timers Page 19