Chosen (The Rap Superstar Series #1)

by Val Love

  Chosen (The Rap Superstar Series #1)

  Published by Val Love at Smashwords

  Copyright 2013 Val Love

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  Cora needed a break. A desperate break.

  Too bad she was in the wrong place for it. Flannery’s had been nothing but trouble for her since the beginning. Witnessing one of the waitresses guzzle down the last of their vodka for the night, she stood at the edge. If she didn’t take a break and get some air, she would never last the night.

  The sad part, she really needed the job. If she didn’t get paid soon, her life would fall apart. She would be evicted. Already behind on two months rent, not because of lack of working, but because she had never been paid, she couldn’t afford to leave. Passing by the kitchen, filled with smoke, she hacked, trying to wave the smoke away to no avail. She managed to push open the back door for some fresh air.

  “How do they work in there?”

  Didn’t they care that the smoke would start to billow out into the dining area? Probably not. No one cared much about anything at Flannery’s. Ever since moving, and needing to pick up a job, she had never thought she would be working at such a dump. Cora had waitressed at some fine establishments in Atlanta. If those owners could see what she saw on a daily basis, they would be horrified.

  Just think about that check.

  Make that those three checks headed your way. That’ll get you through this.

  Tony, the portly chef, flung open the back door. He didn’t say anything to her. He only rushed by, grabbed a container near the dumpster, and headed back in.

  “What’s that?”

  Cora caught a flash of it. Something hit her unconsciously, enough for her to realize that something wasn’t right.

  Stopping, he uncovered it, showing her a glimpse of what was inside. Chicken.

  “Where are you taking that?”

  “Back inside,” he said with a shrug. Then he headed in, shutting the door on Cora’s face.

  They are not going to cook that. Please tell me they’re not thinking about cooking that…

  Cora knew well enough...

  They were going to try to cook that, and if she didn’t do something about it, people could get seriously sick.

  Throwing open the door, she brushed past the rest of the cooks to stand behind Tony. He placed the container next to the grill. It looked like he was going to cook it.

  “You’re going to cook that chicken that’s been out there all day next to the garbage?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “We need to. We ran out. We threw it away earlier because it wasn’t the right temperature, but desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

  Tony turned around now. His face morphed into a pink blob, one that didn’t tell her whether he was more angry or embarrassed.

  “You can go out there and deal with the damn customers if you’re so high and mighty. Tell them we don’t have meat to serve.”

  Cora sneered back at him, putting them at a stand still. The front door to the kitchen opened. The owner, Bruce, had arrived. Just in time. Past the point of caring for her job, since she hadn’t been paid in weeks, she stood her ground. She still had morals.

  “Hey, Bruce, did you know Tony was going to cook this chicken? It was left outside the whole day.”

  Bruce strolled up to it. He looked inside.

  “Looks OK to me,” he said, and then he turned to leave.

  Oh hell no.

  “You’re going to let him serve that?”

  “Looks fine,” he said.

  “You can’t serve that, it could make someone sick!”

  Bruce shrugged and headed towards the doors to escape Cora’s wrath. Not so fast, you slime ball.

  “Where’s my check, Bruce? Do you have it today? You said you would give it to me this week, and today is Saturday.”

  “I don’t have it.” He didn’t even bother to turn around.

  “I need it. Please, I need the money. You need to pay me.”

  This time he turned around. Annoyed at her constant questions, he swiped his slick hair back and raised his ugly lips.

  “You’re not getting your check. I don’t know when you’ll get it. Maybe never.”

  Cora’s fists trembled at her side. She thought of violence at first, but that was only a brief second. Then there was calm, focused rage that presided over her. Fuck this. Fuck him. And fuck this job. It’s over.

  “Fuck you, Bruce, you scum bag. You don’t want to pay me? I quit.”

  “Whatever,” he said, and he headed towards the door, but she shoved past him first and ran straight for the exit.

  ***

  Cora should’ve done it long ago.

  It was too bad she didn’t. She always held out hope he would eventually pay her.

  The other workers said that sometimes he forgot to pay them, but still, she couldn’t live like this, especially with her landlord at her back. It wasn’t even eight yet by the time she got back to her one room apartment. Cora, her heart still racing, and her anger still boiling, called Jake.

  Rent was past due. This phone call was past due.

  “Hey, it’s Cora.”

  “Cora,” Jake said on the other line, as if he dreaded speaking to her. “Got the rent?”

  “No, I don’t have it, but I need more time. Give me another month to get it. I swear, I’ll get it. My boss hasn’t been paying me.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay there. I already gave you the notice you needed to be out, and well, I was willing to let you stay, but only if you paid me back this month. Time’s over. I need to get paid as well. I hope you understand.”

  “There’s got to be some other way. By the time you get another person in the apartment, I’ll already have paid you.”

  “And if you can’t? I’ll be down how many months rent? I already risked enough. Sorry, but I need you out of there tomorrow. I’ll give you the weekend to move out, but that’s me being nice. Sorry again.”

  She held the phone, trying to think of any way to get out of it. Jake’s words sounded final.

  He hung up.

  “No, no,” Cora said. Bursting into tears, she collapsed to the floor. It had been a long time since she cried. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. It was a brief sob, and then she couldn’t cry any longer.

  She pulled the boxes out from her closet, and looked around her room. Starting to toss her things inside, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelming dread for the future. She had no place to go. No one to help her. The ground had been pulled out from under her.

  I’m homeless, she realized.

  Cora couldn’t deal with that.

  There had to be something she could do.

  Seeing a dress in her closet, she thought twice about cleaning up. She could do that tomorrow. It might serve her well to get a better handle on her self esteem, otherwise, she might not have the strength to move out. If she went out, searched for a job at the local restaurants, she might be able to get an interview. With an interview, she could have some hope that things would get better.

  She needed a little hope to continue.

  Cora dropped the dress onto her curvy, sexy frame. She turned, seeing her plump ass wagging back at her. Smiling, it was the first smile of the day. The dress made her feel sexy again, it made her feel alive. How long had it been since she went out?

  Ever since I moved here, so… she decided not to count.

  Taking time with her make up, it felt like a proper girl’s night out. Of course, all her girl friends were far away in the city, but she could dream.
Closing up her make up bag, and then doing a turn around in the mirror, she had to admit she looked stunning. If they didn’t hire her, they were idiots.

  And she knew exactly where to head first. Mccoy’s Ale House.

  Parking on the side street, she could tell the place was already packed. It looked especially packed, for whatever reason, Cora had no idea. She hurried to the line, hoping to get in quickly. The bouncers were doing a great job, hustling customers in.

  Cora brushed her hair, making sure that she still looked good before her approach. When she got inside, she was taken aback by how many people were there. It was loud inside as well. She didn’t think she would be able to speak, yelling would be necessary.

  As she approached the bar, she grew jealous of their job. It looked much cleaner, and much more organized than what she was used to.

  Managing to get the bartender’s attention, he leaned in, asking, “What do you want?”

  “Sorry, I don’t want a drink.” His eyes raised. “I was wondering if you had a job opening for a bar tender. If not a bar tender, a waitress. I’d really love to work here.”

  He smirked. As he did, he grabbed a beer for another customer and placed it down, never letting his eyes leave hers. “Really? Right now? We’re slammed.”

  “I know, sorry. I really need this job. Sorry to do it to you now.”

  He nodded, leaning in closer. His eyes met with hers, and he probably could see how badly she needed it. Could he tell that she had been crying? She hoped not.

  “All right, I’ll speak to the man tomorrow. Owner isn’t in right now.”

  Sliding a paper over to her, he went back to work. “Write your name and number on that.”

  Cora fetched a pen from her purse.

  After writing her name and number down, she hoped it wouldn’t be used for the bartender to try to pick her up later. That was silly though. Cora hadn’t been hit on in years. She couldn’t remember the last time she had sex, and frankly, it was probably terrible, so maybe that was for the best.

  “You want a drink? Thinking about staying?”

  “Sure,” she said, looking for a seat, but the bar was too crowded. “I wasn’t thinking of staying long, but I’ll have one beer.”

  “What’ll it be? It’s on me.”

  “If it’s on you, you go ahead and choose. I’m not picky.”

  He slid the beer to her with a nod. She took a sip, not sure what to expect. It was a sweet beer, thankfully, she wasn’t too much into hoppy. She liked the girlie beers, although it pained her to say it.

  She stood there, sipping her beer, stewing over her future. The instant gratification of the alcohol felt too good, and she desired more, until one beer turned into two. Then three. At three, she could feel herself getting tipsy. It helped that she could hide in the crowd. She would need to drive back that night, so she took it easy, heading towards the back.

  This place has never been this packed.

  Even after most of them filed out in the beginning, she could barely find room to stand. They huddled close together, talking too loud for her to even hear herself think. Cora liked hiding in the crowd. It was peaceful there, in a strange sort of way. She could hide from her problems. Even though there were so many people around her, they were all strangers, and they were all too concerned with who they came with to care about her.

  For once, she could be alone.

  It was an odd sort of peace that came over her. The couple beers didn’t hurt either.

  Pushing back to see what else waited for her, Cora discovered the jukebox, which she had been searching for the whole night. They upgraded to one of the new systems which she didn’t like as much, it was a computerized screen, rather than the old style jukebox, but it did have more songs.

  She picked a Kelly Clarkson song, one that she knew by heart, one that she knew she could belt at the top of her lungs and hit every note perfectly. Cora desperately wanted to sing loud, but that would direct all the attention on her, and right now, she was just trying to blend in.

  Cora had loved singing ever since she could remember. In her teens, she studied, no, trained, that was the correct term, every day. She went through vocal boot camp. She trained to be a professional singer. Unfortunately, after a bout with depression near her twenties, she dropped out of college, ended up as a waitress, and she didn’t have enough time to sing.

  Now, fittingly, she sang.

  Clarkson was one recent singer she could stand behind. Cora liked the oldies, the classics, the female singers who could belt out ballads like they were from another world. She sang near the jukebox, not singing as loudly as she could. It was enough where she wouldn’t be stared at.

  Tipsy, and swaying to the music, maybe she got a little too into it, but Cora couldn’t help it, something got a hold of her, the love of singing, and she hadn’t sang in front of anyone in such a long time. She missed it. Even though the crowd couldn’t hear her, she imagined them listening…every note she hit brought peace to her.

  If I could do this every day, I would be happy…

  Yet how silly...she almost lost her concentration, almost lost track of being in the moment, at that silly thought, but she regathered, and belted out the chorus.

  A real, defiant smile shone on Cora.

  She was so into the song that she didn’t see the crowd parting.

  She stopped, expecting it to be a worker telling her that she needed to head home, that she was too drunk. If they heard her singing by herself, they might think it. “Oh please, don’t throw me out. I’m supposed to be working here soon,” she thought, then her world shattered, and she froze, contemplating if she was seeing things correctly.

  While she tried to analyze what approached her, he spoke.

  “Why’d you stop singing?”

  The man who towered over her resembled the rock superstar, Tyrell. He resembled him so much, the air of superiority that enveloped her while looking at him, and the entourage that surrounded him, it had to be him. Yet, how could it be? Cora was outside of Atlanta, where he had been discovered….yet she was close enough to Atlanta, where maybe….

  No, it couldn’t be him.

  “You look exactly like Tyrell,” she said.

  “You can call me T. And I get that all the time,” he said, smirking, and it led her to believe that this was truly him.

  Stunned, her back pressed against the wall, she wished she could disappear through it. But she couldn’t. She stood there, wondering what he wanted, his entourage, all tough, gigantic looking guys, ready to come to his defense.

  Why? She had no idea. Maybe she had offended him some how…

  Oh no, that’s all I need. A rap feud.

  “I know who you are.”

  He ignored the comment.

  “I’m sure you do. The problem is, who are you?”

  That smiled turned on her fast. It turned her inside and out, leaving her defenseless. Already stunned over his sudden arrival, Cora could feel all eyes on her, and she didn’t know what to do or say. The whole point of going to the jukebox had been to be alone, yet now the whole bar stared at her. Now she knew why the bar was packed.

  “Cora.” It was a wonder that she could even manage to say that much.

  “Cora,” he said, nodding, looking her over. Was he hitting on her? It seemed impossible, a cruel joke. “I heard you singing. You’ve got a beautiful voice. Do you do it professionally?”

  Dumbfounded, she stared at him.

  He didn’t wait for her answer. Her reaction told him everything he needed to know.

  “Do you want to come to my studio, maybe try out a couple tracks with me? I heard your voice. It’s…like nothing I’ve ever heard. If you’re available, I’d love for you to come.”

  Cora looked to his entourage. They were smiling at her. They were enjoying this.

  It was all a joke, a joke played at her expense.

  As if she didn’t have a worse day already, losing her job, being kicked out of her apartment, now sh
e was being humiliated by a popular rapper, at the job she just applied to…

  Cora bowed her head, not even regarding anyone around her. She completely shut off, and then walked right past Tyrell, heading past the crowd, who managed to grow quiet enough where she could think. The words were not helpful.

  Where do I go now?

  What do I do now?

  She had no home, no job…

  Cora managed to crawl into her car. She slept there, hoping that no one would notice. In the morning, she drove to her apartment in order to unpack.

  ***

  The next morning was tough.

  She decided to get through it quickly. It was painful, unpacking everything, not knowing where it would head to next.

  For all she knew, it would end up in her car. That was where she expected to stay for the night. Out of cash, she couldn’t afford anything else, and there was no one she could call for help. It would have to do.

  Even though it was painful, she knew it was the right thing to do. Cora needed to pack everything. Living there without paying rent wasn’t right. She threw everything in boxes. There wasn’t much to pack anyway. Most possessions had been sold to pay rent.

  Grabbing a box, she headed out to her car, her new home.

  It was a painful walk down that staircase leading to the outside. It didn’t feel right. Cora couldn’t help but feel like a failure. Meanwhile she struggled with trying to carry two boxes on top of each other. They were light, but awkward to carry.

  She managed to dump the box into her back seat. It would be a long day.

  “Need some help?”

  She spun around. Who would want to help her?

  As if things hadn’t gotten weird enough, there was Tyrell, or T, holding her second box, waiting for her to respond.

  “I thought I could help.”

  She said nothing.

  “Do you need help?”

  “I guess.”

  Was he still trying to mess with her? How long would his prank go on? Hadn’t he had enough fun at her expense? He probably got her number off her application she left at the bar.

  “What is it that you want? Is this a joke?”

  He placed the box in the back. Then headed towards her apartment. “We’ve got a lot of work to do. You coming?”