Carmen

by Nako

  She knew that he was an ambitious man when she met him.

  Tia was aware of what she signed up for when she told him yes after he proposed.

  She was prepared to carry most of the load when they welcomed their first child into the world.

  She met him halfway and vice versa.

  She was good.

  She could do this.

  She could do it all.

  Tia was a super woman.

  He needed her.

  He wanted her.

  That’s all that ever mattered to her.

  Love was their beautiful balance.

  Tia knew him better than he knew himself.

  After she confirmed his mother’s arrival she found her husband to let him know that they were squared away.

  “Where are we going?” she questioned.

  He was in the middle of something, as always.

  “It’s a baecation, pack sexy,” he said as if it was easy for her to do so.

  “Uh, with this big belly?” Her stomach being covered in stretch marks made her a tad bit insecure, but Juice loved those stripes and the extra forty pounds that she now carried.

  “Yep, two piece it up baby.”

  He finally looked up from his iPhone and blew her a kiss.

  “I love you.”

  Still making her feel like the sexiest girl in the world, she blushed.

  “I love you more.”

  Tia turned around on her heels and left him alone.

  One of his most trusted friends and producers, Munch had sent him a file along with a text message that read, “This nigga doesn’t eat or sleep. Weird as shit but talented.”

  Neezy could’ve easily caught him off guard with his question but he’d been taught by the best. Mr. Porter Bavay himself. Juice adopted many of P’s attributes and style in business. He was well-calculated and smooth.

  He could smell a profitable opportunity a mile away.

  Aside from Neezy having the potential to soar, there was a connection there that he hadn’t been able to put his hand on. His held something that he’d seen before when he looked in the mirror.

  Half of him knew it was hunger.

  Neezy was hungry for more. Thirsty for change. Yet, fear kept his feet planted in the streets.

  Juice could pluck him out, if he was serious about his craft.

  He didn’t have time to waste.

  After being asked why didn’t he give him a chance when Money reached out to him, he told him to hop in the booth right then and there if he was ready.

  Neezy knew that Juice was calling his bluff, but he had the heart of a lion.

  He poked his chest out and said, “Shoot me the location and I’ll pull up.”

  That was two days ago.

  Juice hadn’t heard from him or Munch until the text message arrived.

  He reached for his fully-charged air pods and put them into his ears. Those joints were the greatest thing ever invented.

  He closed his eyes after lighting the blunt he was previously smoking on before he got busy.

  The crescendo hit his ears followed by Neezy’s voice.

  He cleared his throat over the microphone and rapped, “Word to my brother…we had the same mother. Rest in love and I know you sent the ancestors to watch over me from above. Slide in these hoes with a glove…”

  Neezy dug his foot into the beat and he let that hoe rip as he went off the dome.

  He told Juice over a blunt and cold water that he wrote his hooks but that was about it. Every other word was unplanned and organic.

  Juice heard the passion sneaking into every track that he listened to. Munch sent over four tracks and they were all fire.

  He loved the music and felt every word.

  This wasn’t mumble rap.

  Neezy spoke about real shit.

  His words sounded like drug-induced poetry in his ears.

  Normally, when he listened to new tunes from his potential and even the current artists on his roster, he would take notes.

  However, no comments were needed.

  Everything was perfect.

  He shot Munch a text, “Trill,” keeping it short.

  Juice would save the praises for the man behind the mic.

  He called Neezy and he didn’t pick up, so he sent him a text, “Headed out of town but when I touch back down; let’s link. Heard the session went well.”

  “Babeeee, dinner is ready.”

  Tia called out to him.

  Juice took his air pods out and smiled.

  He loved his fuckin’ life.

  He was truly blessed and highly favored.

  Neezy texted back just as Tia served dessert. Apple pie a la mode was on the menu tonight.

  “It was a vibe in there. Safe travels bro. Speak soon.”

  Neezy had been listening to the songs non-stop as well. His creative juices had been flowing non-stop. He was constantly jotting down his thoughts. He was anxious to get back in the booth. Things were about to change. A shift in his spirit let him know that his time was here. It had arrived.

  η

  She returned home to sunny California but wasn’t nothing sunny about her mood.

  Normally, when she felt a way about the happenings of life, creating was her escape.

  The Showroom was a dream at one time.

  It was her momma that told her to follow through with it. Her brother pushed her as well, but her momma was on her ass, day in and out.

  She missed her and there were so many missing pieces to this puzzle.

  Narie snapped her out of her thoughts, “Did you consider filing a missing person’s report or hiring an investigator?”

  Carmen shook her head, “For what?”

  “You’re going off what your step momma or whatever the hell she is told you? How do you know what she said is accurate?” Narie wanted her friend to look for her mother herself.

  She thought about it for a few minutes.

  “You’re right. Let me call Casey.”

  Narie rolled her eyes, “For whatttttt? That’s your mom not his. I get that y’all are one big family. Well, I really don’t get it, but it is what it is.” She paused before saying, “Get on Google and I’ll help. It’s slow in here today. We can find your mom ourselves.”

  Narie didn’t mean any offense to Casey. She wanted to remind her friend that it was okay if she did things herself.

  Carmen didn’t have to always call her big brother for every little issue.

  She was her own person.

  Two hours later she’d spoken to an investigator who told her to hold out on the missing person report.

  Carmen wasn’t feeling one-hundred percent better, but the load had lightened. She was going to find her momma.

  She hugged Narie closely, “Thank you for being my friend.”

  “I’m your sister and I love you; everything is going to be okay,” she promised her.

  Carmen believed it.

  Now, she could get some work done.

  After the day ended and everyone went home, she found herself being completely engrossed in her content calendar.

  The Showroom didn’t thrive off social media nor had it been a tremendous help in growing her business.

  However, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that social media couldn’t help a business make money.

  With the published article circulating around she planned on being intentional about what and when she posted to not only her personal page but the business page as well on social media.

  Nia Hudson was one of her good-good girlfriends and had someone verifying The Showroom’s IG. For some reason that helped gain more followers.

  People vied for that blue check. Carmen could care less.

  She always felt like she was official in real life…or, at least that’s what she’d convinced herself to believe.

  What she didn’t mind doing was constantly putting in the work. Yeah, the store had closed for today and everyone was home probably enjoying the night
. But, The Showroom was her other baby. It required constant nurturing. When you asked for God to bless you with a bag, you couldn’t fumble it. Carmen was holding on to The Showroom with two hands. She didn’t leave her storefront till almost three in the morning.

  Ari Lennox’s “Up Late” was what guided her home. Once she made it safely to her destination, she immediately shed the day’s attire and stepped in the shower.

  Whenever she was in full-grind mode, eating wasn’t on her agenda. As she washed her body, her stomach grumbled.

  She had to eat before she laid down.

  Thinking of what to order since where she resided was considered prime real estate in California. Carmen was smack dab in the middle of all the good food.

  She decided on Thai as she dried her body off and applied aloe Vera to her face.

  Over the next four months, she planned on whipping her body into shape and of course, that included her oval-shaped face.

  She was going to drink nothing but water and alcohol only on the weekends along with changing her pillow cases three times a week. Carmen was adamant about having clear skin.

  The gym wasn’t her favorite place to be, but she was about to give herself no other choice but to love it.

  She had a lot she wanted to accomplish by the end of the year, and it started with self.

  If the mind and body was out of whack, nothing else would align. How could it? Her momma used to tell her, “A cluttered room is a cluttered mind,” and the older she got, the more it rang true.

  Discipline.

  She had to begin to discipline her mind to adapting better habits to equate to the life she truly desired to live.

  Her food wouldn’t be delivered for another forty-five minutes, so she tidied up her place and scrolled social media.

  She loved seeing her friends in love. She dropped several comments under their pictures.

  _itscarmenkincaid commented on iammahogany’s picture, “Look at my bookie boo’s. Love y’all fam!”

  _itscarmenkincaid commented on nariesade’s picture, “Thick thighs give em’ whiplash! Baby mama so freakin’ fineeeeeee.”

  _itscarmenkincaid commented on niahudson’s picture, “Big sis! Who hotter than u?”

  _itscarmenkincaid commented on tiabia’s picture, “Tia! She has gotten so big and looking just like Juice. Omg! My ovaries are swooning.”

  _itscarmenkincaid commented on king23’s picture, “#mcm”

  Social media could be a gift and a curse, depending on how you spent your time on the app. She closed it out and decided to do more meaningful things with the remainder of her time.

  She crossed her fingers in hopes that the private investigator she hired would have something sooner than the week he said it would normally take to track someone down. Carmen was missing her mother like crazy and didn’t know where to divert her anxiety and stress.

  She would breathe a lot better after hearing that her mom was okay and alive.

  The confirmation alone would alleviate a lot of worry.

  Her food arrived sooner than expected. She scarfed it all down with a glass of alkaline water. Watching television wasn’t something that she did on the daily. Tonight, she caught up on her favorite show, Pose until her food digested.

  She said her prayers before bed, mainly directing it towards the well-being of her momma.

  Carmen slid under her warm satin sheets. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t want to be alone tonight.

  It was rare that she was annoyed with her singleness.

  For the most part, she was cool.

  Carmen was so freakin’ busy she didn’t have any free time to devote to building a relationship but tonight…she wanted to have a good conversation and be coddled.

  She wanted to make love and then wake up to that same man who thought the world of her.

  She sighed deeply, as she propped her pillow up between the crook of her neck and shoulder, closing her eyes…knowing that sooner than later. A change was definitely going to come.

  η

  Every five days, it was mandated that you rise and pray. According to his religion. Nehemiah prayed every day. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he got up early to pray, that was his routine. No matter what, every five days, he had to be on his mat. Praying.

  Religion came with sacrifice.

  It kept him accountable to something and someone other than himself.

  His religion erased his selfishness.

  He didn’t go to his ancestors with his worries. After he was done praying, he wiped his face. He hadn’t been crying. It was sweat. His energy didn’t falter.

  He had a lot on his mind and wasn’t surprised at all when he spotted the time. Praying with a deadline in mind wasn’t what he did. He prayed without ceasing. He prayed until he felt better.

  Until something clicked in his spirit. Acknowledgement of confirmation came with experience. Some people couldn’t hear from God or the higher power that they believed in, Neezy was grateful that he could hear. Clearly.

  He knew what to do and when. He trusted the direction of his life although it seemed a little shaky right now. Everything was going to pan out how it was supposed to.

  He never bothered to explain himself or his practices to people.

  His brother got it and others who shared the same faith.

  Other than that, it went over a lot of people’s heads.

  After he did what he had to do, he showered and headed out the house. Today could easily be the beginning of something new and prosperous. Neezy needed that right now.

  Juice was back in town and they were meeting at the studio. He was interested in hearing his feedback and getting back in the booth. He hadn’t really slept since he recorded those four songs. He longed for the distraction and wanted more of it. He would do anything to keep his mind off the streets and his brother.

  Being alone was cool but not every fucking day.

  It was starting to fuck with him, on the low.

  He rode to the studio listening to his old tracks. It was crazy how wild he used to sound. The shit he used to rap about.

  His mind had to be playing tricks on him which fucked him up because he hadn’t smoked since yesterday.

  “Are they pulling me over?” he asked himself after spotting the red and blue lights in his rearview.

  There was no way in hell this was happening to him right now. He didn’t believe it until they tapped his window, “Sir, cut the car off and put your hands on the steering wheel.”

  η

  Simultaneously, Carmen and Nehemiah were wondering what was God trying to teach them about life in the present moment. On the brink of beautiful things taking place, it seemed as if everything had been snatched from under their feet.

  Rapidly.

  Life had a funny way of humbling you even when you don’t think you could be humbled any more than you already are.

  In two different cities, they were posing the exact same questions. In need of answers, because this surely couldn’t be their reality at this present time.

  God is this my fate?

  What did I do wrong?

  Do I deserve what I’m facing?

  Are there more storms brewing?

  Tears immediately flushed their faces.

  Two different places.

  Same emotions.

  Different trials.

  Different circumstances.

  Different tribulations.

  Different obstacles.

  Roadblocks.

  It hurt.

  The shit really fucking hurt.

  In Los Angeles, California….

  Carmen lifted her head from her best friend’s lap and screamed, “WHYYYYYYYYY?”

  She didn’t understand why this was happening to her.

  She’d been faithful.

  She was devoted to her God.

  She tithed.

  She prayed.

  She worshipped.

  She sacrificed.

  She smiled.


  She gave.

  She was consistent.

  She survived.

  Carmen had been to hell and back and yet, she still was standing strong.

  But this right here, the news she woke up to was enough to send her over the ledge.

  She couldn’t take it anymore.

  She was tired of being the bigger person.

  She was struggling to contain her emotions.

  Years of suffering in silence.

  Years of being alone.

  Years of wearing the mask.

  “Tell me it’s not true,” she implored of the people in the room.

  Anybody.

  Somebody.

  Whomever it concerned.

  The private investigator hated his job. This was the hard part. This was the gamble.

  The risk of not having good news was what brought the tears to his eyes.

  He felt horrible.

  “I want my momma. God, please bring my momma back.”

  She fell onto the floor and screamed. It was more than a temper tantrum.

  This was the process of your heart separating.

  Her mother found on the side of the road. Dead.

  Body decomposing.

  Where was she going?

  What was she running from?

  Nothing made sense.

  She needed answers but right now, all she wanted was one more conversation.

  She didn’t get the chance to tell her mother that she had finally made it.

  Her dream was becoming her reality.

  She would be famous soon.

  The Showroom was being mentioned amongst the greats.

  The late nights were worth it.

  Every “yes” and “no” paid off.

  The betrayal didn’t break her.

  Nor did the shooting.

  The surgeries.

  The therapy.

  The divorce.

  None of it destroyed her.

  She needed her mother to see this.

  Her journey was a testimony.

  Carmen’s mother was supposed to witness the glow-up.

  The growth.

  The process.

  She wanted to inspire her mother to leave the basement.

  “You have to keep your goals on the forefront of your mind. The nights are going to come where you rather lounge around and binge watch your favorite shows. You won’t be motivated every day. It’s not possible, trust me.”