by Nako
Carmen wiped her tears away.
“Yes ma’am.”
She knew she came to the right place.
“Now, we gon’ pray this spirit off you and out my house and then you’re going to do what you know you need to do and that’s going to be that.”
First Lady stood and then helped Carmen to her feet.
They prayed together and she sent Carmen on her way.
She slept at her own place tonight, on the air mattress with a thin blanket.
She was so tired from the drive to and back from the prison that she crashed immediately.
When she woke up the next morning, she prayed, showered and felt a tad bit better. Especially considering that she had two missed calls from Keiter’s mother along with a text from her son.
Finally.
Nineteen
Crying tears of purple rain – HIM
He couldn’t help but to bop when this particular song played that he recorded on a whim. The shit was pure fire. He bobbed his head and waved one of his hands in the air. The look on his face was stank.
But the beat was so ma’fuckin' hard that it touched you all over.
Blunts were in rotation.
Empty bottles of water and Sprite covered the floor.
If you weren’t high, you were tipsy. The vibe was right in the studio.
He was at the finish line of his first album and the ancestors had been with him every step of the way.
Along with the label and his girl.
Tonight, the legendary Yara Brooks stopped by to get an exclusive listen.
She spoke to everyone with one word, “Hey.”
She then sat down, crossed one leg over the other and texted on her phone for the duration of her time.
They played the album from start to end.
P kept peering over at her to get a glimpse on how she was feeling but she was unreadable.
Her phone damn near covered her face.
The only indication that she was actually listening was her red bottom flat moved up and down, according to the beat.
When someone offered a blunt by passing it her way, she shook her head.
Yara only smoked with her husband.
It was a personal preference.
Niggas were nastier than chicks these days.
They ate pussy and ass, she was good on that.
Neezy paused the track to say, “This is the outro.”
Munch pressed play and everyone tuned in.
The last song was a dedication to his brother. He was everything to him.
When it ended, there were very few dry eyes.
He wiped a lone tear quickly.
Porter was proud of him.
Juice was too.
“I love it,” he praised.
Neezy was pleased with the feedback.
Yara told him, “It’s a beautiful piece of work.”
He’d successfully completed his first album.
They settled on twelve songs and four interludes.
He would shoot six music videos along with the documentary prior to the album dropping.
“It’s time to get to work. The real late nights and early mornings were about to start,” Juice said to everyone in attendance for the unofficial listening party.
It was marketing and branding time. Now was when the real magic was created. The time had come for them to finalize and polish his image. What they presented the world was important. It was the fans and social media that defined an artist’s look and reputation.
The album wasn’t nearly the hard part.
“I’m ready,” he declared.
It was getting late and the majority of the team that worked with and for him were family men, so they filed out, with promises to be at the office bright and early.
Remaining were Juice, Porter, Neezy and Yara.
“I’m going to get out of here. Mahogany landed an hour ago so I’ma meet her at the crib,” Porter dapped everyone and landed an innocent kiss on Yara’s cheek.
Juice told him, “I’m out of here too. Yara, ‘preciate you stopping by. Always love.”
She stood up and stretched her arms and legs. She’d been sitting down for almost two hours.
“I’ma rap with Neezy here for a hot second then I’ma leave too. Did y’all hear about someone being robbed leaving the studio the other night?”
This was Juice’s building, he rented out the rooms to other artists that weren’t signed to him.
“Huh?” this was his first time hearing this.
Neezy told him, “Yeah, some young nigga came up that night.”
He stayed strapped.
“I have my security with me so I’m good, but for your people that don’t let them know to probably leave at a decent hour.”
Juice was taken back by this.
“This is supposed to be a low-key spot. How does someone even know it’s a studio?”
Niggas were talking.
“It’s okay I need to get cameras and security anyway. This will be handled first thing in the morning,” he was pissed.
Neezy dapped him up and he was out.
He sat back down and watched Yara head to the boards.
“How do you feel about your album?” she asked him out of curiosity.
He shot back, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
From what he’d been told, she was the one with the stamp of approval that he should seek upon going to radio.
Yara seemed distant and nonchalant. Like, airy. Kinda.
P told him, “She did some time so she a lil’ rough around the edges but she got a good heart.”
Neezy wasn’t intimidated by her.
“I plan on sharing my thoughts after you share yours.”
He fiddled with his thumb, reflecting on his work of art.
His sacrifice.
Blood, sweat and tears went into this project.
“I’m fulfilled.”
He’d given it everything he had.
“Are you really?” she challenged.
Neezy smacked his lips, “What answer are you looking for? I’m not gon say it’s a piece of shit. Because, I don’t feel that way,” he said, defensively.
Yara shook her head, “Whoa. No, I’m not here to convince you otherwise.” She cleared it up.
“Well, I like it. I love it.”
She told him, “I do too.”
Neezy looked into her eyes to see if she was fucking with him but she wasn’t.
“Swear?”
She smiled, “It’s great.”
Yara had a few pointers.
“I would start the album off with the outro. Switch it around. People waiting on you to say something about him anyway so give it to them. Make the outro the intro and the intro the outro. It’s hard.”
“Then the song that you have with Mahogany, take it out. It’s not needed.”
He was shocked to hear that being that Mahogany was her artist. It let him know that it wasn’t about the money with her.
“You did the right thing with no features. She can come off,” she confirmed his prior thoughts.
He took it all in.
“Stay focused and off the radar. It’ll benefit you in the long run,” was what she’d left him with. When he made it home, Carmen was up, waiting on him. Patiently.
They hadn’t talked since their breakfast date. She gave him the space she knew he needed without even asking for it.
She rose to her feet as he closed and locked the door.
“How did they like the album?”
She was nervous for two reasons; the feedback he’d been waiting on and the fate of where their love would end up.
Carmen heard the album before everyone, and she was already his biggest fan.
They’d had sex to it several times.
“It was received well.”
His tone had a bite to it. His posture was stiff.
He ambled over to the kitchen and lifted the pots and pans to see what she’d cooked.
“Made your favorite…” she followed behind him closely.
“Back up,” he snapped.
Carmen gasped.
Tears instantly rushed to her eyelids.
He was about to break her heart.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he spun around and grabbed her.
Her face was being held in between his worn hands.
She cried silently.
Neezy kissed her.
“Stop. It’s no need, baby.”
She couldn’t help it. Carmen loved him so much, she didn’t want to lose him.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you… I know I should’ve been told you.”
Their conversation had been silently playing over in his mind since breakfast. But, he was an artist now. A millionaire, too.
He couldn’t sit around in the dumps. In his industry, feelings did pay the bills, but he still crept out of them.
Neezy gave himself until the end of a blunt to stop over-processing and analyzing her revelation.
When the beat played again and the blunt turned into a roach, he pushed her out of his mind.
However, he was home now.
The day was over. Work ended. She was here. Waiting on edge.
He now had to face reality and a harsh truth.
“Stop.”
He asked again.
Carmen pushed him away.
“Don’t tell me to stop, what you want me to do?” she was overwhelmed with emotion.
Neezy leaned against the counter top, watching her pace the floor.
Ass jiggling from under one of his t-shirts.
He highly doubted that she had panties on.
Knowing the “rules” for whenever she was in his bed.
“Do you know how hard that was for me to tell you?”
He figured it was. Hell, it was hard to listen to.
Difficult to accept.
“Who all know?”
Nehemiah had a lot of questions.
In fact, if he wasn’t so damn busy today he would’ve wrote them bitches down.
She breathed loudly, expressing her uncomfortably.
“Me, my mom, my ex-husband and now my son.”
Keiter swore that he never told Kniko a name, but she wasn’t sure. They’d been texting for a few days now and it was…cool.
He asked her a lot of questions and all she wanted was pictures. He questioned her about Neezy, and she told him that they were good friends. Carmen didn’t want him to think that there wasn’t any space in her heart for him because truthfully, her whole heart belonged to her son.
He was a teenager now. He liked girls and enjoyed going out on the weekends.
She felt like an old lady.
Neezy told her that kids weren’t mandatory for them. He had Lira to keep on the straight and narrow and she had her son. Together, they would be one happy family. He was content. However, Carmen told him that she wanted more children before it got too late. She would be forty in a few years and everyone knew how quickly time flew by when you were in love.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
Carmen shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. My mom didn’t want to start any confusion.”
Her mother hated drama, conflict or anything that she thought would make Courtney, her father look at her any different.
Sheila never said that, but Carmen always knew that was the sole reason.
No one could deny that Casey was his favorite. She stopped competing for his love at a very young age. She didn’t care if she impressed him or not. Nothing she ever did was good enough for him. Her mother wasn’t either.
Because if she was, he would’ve left Missy and married Sheila.
To him, her life was like some white-people, General Hospital type-of shit.
He asked her the same question that he did this morning.
“You got feelings for that nigga?”
She didn’t know that every move and word that fell from her lips was being closely examined. He was looking for a sign; any false statements. Although, he didn’t have anything to measure it against.
He watched her closely. If something was off, he would know.
“Oh my God, here you go again,” she exasperated.
He didn’t give a damn how many times he asked. She needed to answer the question every time.
“Look at the situation you got me in baby!” he was now pissed off.
She was trying to kick it as if it wasn’t a big deal.
But it was.
It was a big fucking deal.
At breakfast, she was fidgety. Spilling shit, asking a million questions about the menu as if she’d never eaten there before. Actually, now that he thought about it, she’d been weird ever since he got back in town.
They were sexing as usual, but she wasn’t present.
He ended up forcing himself to nut just to relieve her.
She’d been battling with telling him for quite some time. He was curious as to know what made her say something now.
She was annoyed and irritated. Carmen rolled her eyes and stomped her feet, angrily.
“Nehemiah, like I told you this morning—"
She explained to him again and he tuned out, going back almost eleven hours ago when she dropped the bomb on him.
“Should have I gotten all that stuff added to my omelet?” she asked her boyfriend.
He looked at her with a dumbfounded look, “Don’t you always get that?”
She was acting weird.
“My trainer is going to kill me,” she muttered.
Neezy exhaled and sat back.
“You want to tell me what’s going on, babe?”
She’d been tripping lately, and he was over it. Neezy wanted his boo back.
“Going on with what? The Showroom is coming together. It’s so nice. Me and Kniko have been talking about spending some quality time. I don’t want him to get comfortable with the texting. It’s safe...ya know?”
Her eyes lit up when she mentioned her son.
He was happy that they’d reconnected. A void had been filled.
“Yeah, I do.”
Neezy wasn’t talking about any of that though.
“What else?” he probed.
Her eyes dropped to the table and that’s when he knew he was spot on.
“Okay, yeah… I have to tell you something. It’s important and I don’t think you’re going to take it well… just promise to hear me out and don’t leave,” she implored.
“Please don’t leave me in here,” she asked him again.
What could it possibly be? He thought to himself.
He nodded his head but didn’t give her a verbal response.
“A very long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long—"
He cut her off, “Aye…I get it.”
Now wasn’t the time for the dramatics.
If this was serious she needed to act like it.
Carmen cleared her throat and sat up on her side of the booth.
“It was a long time ago…me and one of my brother’s friends used to you know, mess around.”
She was stalling.
“Okay and what?”
Her hands became clammy.
“And I got pregnant.”
Neezy was sure that it was more to the story.
“Come on…” he tried to drag it out of her.
“I also had a one-night stand… Well, all of this stuff happened.”
“You were sleeping with both of them?” he wasn’t judging her, just wanted clarification.
She nodded her head, “Well no, I was sleeping with Casey’s friend on the regular. The other dude was a random one-night stand.”
He went back silent, so she continued.
“I honestly didn’t know who I was pregnant by and when I told my mom. She told my dad and he forced us to marry. I was so embarrassed that I never said anything. Fast forward years later and me and my now ex-husband were argui
ng, and I threw it in his face.”
Carmen paused and took a deep breath.
“Did he go get a DNA test?”
She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.”
That was the truth.
“Who was the friend?”
Carmen then went deaf all of a sudden.
“Huh?”
Neezy was about to get mad because he was hoping that it wasn’t who he thought it was.
“Who was the friend?” he said every word slowly.
She dropped her orbs onto the table again.
“It was P…Porter.”
“I’m around the nigga every day. All day. He’s my MANAGER. Your possible baby daddy is a nigga I break bread with, faithfully.”
She had to see how this made him look. How he felt.
The position it put him in.
“Even if he’s Kniko’s father, I’ll never tell him,” she begged him with her eyes to let this shit go.
“Why would you do that?”
She sighed.
“My brother died not knowing and I’m going to keep it that way. I always liked Porter. I think for him it was just physical. And plus, I love Mahogany. I love their family. We never spoke of what we did to anyone…it’s best it stays that way,” her mind was more than made up.
Neezy didn’t agree. Carmen would never disrespect or try to separate them by dropping an almost sixteen-year-old secret. She would never. She could never do that.
“I’m not trying to make things complicated for you. Porter is good at what he does. He’s a great manager and –
He cut her off, “Yo, I don’t need you selling the nigga to me. I already know that.” Neezy was jealous.
The thought of Porter being inside of her caused his stomach to churn.
He didn’t care if it was before him.
The fact remained.
Neezy was hurt.
“I need a minute,” he said before walking off.
Carmen was on his heels.
“You had all day,” she reminded him.
He left her in that diner, alone.
After she asked him twice not to do that.
And here he was again, leaving.
“What you want me to say?”
She clasped her hands together and said, “I want you to tell me that you appreciate my honesty and reassure me that we are going to get through this. I want you to tell me that this doesn’t change anything between us.”