by Nikki Turner
Petey wanted to be able to handle the situation without involving Johnny, but Taz had forced his hand. He pulled out his cell phone and stepped toward the waiting room to make the call. Royce stormed off to the restroom.
“You running in that bathroom to snort a little of that shit, huh? Maybe some of that love boat will make you get yo mind right enough to sing this song.”
“That phone call with Johnny gonna make you change the song so that I can sing it.”
“This shit is too crazy,” Adora said to her sister. “Damn sis, we thought you were going to be entertaining us but shit, this is just as good. You know I likes drama!”
After hearing a knock, Shug yelled to Taz, “There's someone at the door!”
“Well, get it then,” he screamed back, looking at her as if it shouldn't have been that difficult for her to figure out. Then he screamed at Royce through the restroom door. “You can call anybody you want to call. I ain't changing shit.”
Adora opened up the door and three girls came in, sashaying past them straight into the studio with Taz. One of them bent down and licked the inside of his ear.
Petey walked back in the room with Taz. “Here.” He handed Taz the phone.
“Hold on a minute,” Taz told the groupie. He then took the phone out of Petey's hand and spoke into the receiver. “What up?”
Fabiola tried to keep up with the one-way conversation while tuning out all the small talk of the other girls that had just come in.
“I ain't changing the song,” Taz spat. “It's my song. I wrote it.” He paused to listen. “I know it's one line, that's why I ain't changing it. I'm tired of compromising my work. … Then if I change it, I gotta give that bitch fucking credit on a song I wrote.” He listened for a minute, then spoke again. “Johnny, no disrespect, but I'm not going to change one word for the bitch, so if she want to blow the opportunity to be on a hit, then that's up to her. I really don't care either way. She can sing the song or bounce—her decision.” Taz handed the phone back to Petey and followed the groupie into the other bathroom.
“It's your choice,” Petey said, looking at Royce. “You don't have to sing the song if you don't want to.”
“Let's go.” Royce grabbed her bag and followed Petey out. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, holding her head high as she walked out the door.
It didn't take long for everyone in the studio to figure out what was going on in the bathroom. Homegirl must have had one helluva head game, because for the next four and a half minutes, the only music in the studio was Taz's moans.
Fabiola, Adora, and Shug just looked at one another; each one was waiting on the other to give the word to get the fuck out of there. But none of them said anything.
Taz came out of the bathroom fumbling with his pants and sporting a satisfied smile on his face, when he noticed that Royce and Petey had left. To be sure, he walked to the waiting room. No Royce or Petey, but Fabiola and the other girls were there. “Which one of y'all can sing?” he asked.
Fabiola raised her hand.
“What the hell you waiting for then? Get up off your ass and get in the damn booth. We got a fucking hit song to finish. Shit!”
“I know that's right,” Shug commented, “what one won't do, another will.” She turned and gave Adora a high five.
“Where's the song you want me to sing?” Fabiola was cool and willing to roll with the punches.
“This is the song.” Taz handed her the paper with the lyrics on it. “First, I'm going to play you the melody, then you can sing it however you feel. We'll go back and smooth it over afterward.”
“No problem.” Fabiola looked at the handwritten song, then glanced at her friend and sister with raised eyebrows and walked into the booth, closing the door behind her.
Taz tapped the mic. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.” He dropped the music and she listened for a minute, then he spoke into the mic. “I'm going to cue the music now; just sing what you see on the paper.” The moment Fabiola began to sing, Taz became entranced. He didn't scream at her. He didn't stop the session. He just kept smiling.
“That's my sister right there,” Adora bragged. “Do your thing, gurrl.”
“Sang that shit,” Shug cheered.
A star was being born right in the middle of his studio. Taz was still bopping his head with a giant smile on his face when she came out of the booth. “What's your name?” he asked. Things had moved so quickly he didn't even know the name of his new star performer.
“Fabiola.” She smiled. “Casino sent me.”
“It don't matter who sent you, what matters is that we now have a hit on our hands.” Fabiola could hear the potential in the song as well, but she held her cool. While Shug and Adora went berserk, Fabiola only smiled. She had to keep her game face on. The last thing she wanted Taz to think was that she needed him so bad that he felt he could invite her into the bathroom next.
“Are you up to finishing the song and maybe one other?” Taz offered.
“I'm definitely up to it.” Fabiola smiled again.
“Then let's get back to work. You need water, weed, or anything?” He was patting his pockets as if he could pull whatever she asked for right out of his pants.
“I don't do drugs, but water would be fine.”
“You sure that's all you need?” Taz was far more relaxed and accommodating with Fabiola than he was with Royce. Maybe it was because he was as excited about the song as Fabiola, or it could have been a result of the mind-blowing head he had received in the bathroom.
“If you had some hot tea that would be great.”
“Somebody make my star some tea. We need to treat this voice like precious cargo.”
Fabiola smiled while looking up to thank God. But she was careful not to get too overjoyed. She'd seen a sure thing slip from her fingers time and time again.
Seven hours later the song was done. Everyone danced around the studio hyped up. Fabiola called Casino and played the song for him over the phone.
“I like it,” Casino said, happy to hear the excitement in her voice.
“You do?”
“Yeah, it's hot and sounds like it's a hit,” Casino assured her.
When Taz came to the studio the next morning, he found Fabiola waiting for him on the stoop writing in her notebook.
“Where your li'l posse at?” he asked.
“I left them asleep in the hotel,” Fabiola said with a smile. “But I couldn't wait to get back here and get back to work.”
“Good,” he said. “I like a hard worker.”
“I've been working on some songs. Would you mind listening to them?”
“A'ight.”
After a few hours of working on some songs that Fabiola had written, Taz sent her out to the corner store for a snack and some fresh air. While she was out, he made a phone call.
“Yo, Johnny,” he said into the phone, “this Taz.”
“I know who it is; it's the nigga that kicked my artist out of his studio yesterday,” Johnny responded.
“That's old news, baby. I got something that'll make up for that ten times over.”
“I'm listening.” He hid his curiosity behind a sigh.
“I found a thoroughbred. The song ‘Touch Me’ that I wrote—the one that you really liked?” Of course Johnny knew what song he was talking about; it was the same song his girl Royce was supposed to have done. “Well, this chick I found did her muthafuckin' thing with it.”
“Really?” Johnny asked. He was always on the lookout for new hot talent. Today an artist was the next big thing; tomorrow she was old news. “This thoroughbred, is she marketable?”
“Do a chicken have feathers? Hell yeah, she's marketable. She has the face, the body, swagger, and the voice. And there's something new about her voice; she's not trying to do what everyone else is doing. I'm telling you, Johnny: She's the real deal, sho nuff, Holyfield. None of that put-together studio shit that's being played on the
radios all day. This girl is”—Taz tried to come up with a proper comparison—“a cross between Aretha Franklin and Gladys Knight with some new-age shit thrown in.” Johnny had never heard Taz this excited about anything. “You should stop by and hear the song. …”
“What's her name?”
“Fabiola, and she's from Virg—”
“I know her,” Johnny cut him off, “and she doesn't have what it takes—too many problems.”
“What type of problems?”
“Drama, drugs, ghetto, ahh, man, just too many issues, too many to iron out,” Johnny lied.
This couldn't be the same girl I spent the last day and a half with, Taz thought. “I was with her all day yesterday and didn't see a sign of any kind of drug use. From what I could tell, she seems like a hard worker.”
“Well, I don't want anything to do with her ghetto ass or her momager. And if I were you I wouldn't fuck with her either.”
“I think you got her mixed up with someone else. The girl I'm talking about is the sweetest, most humble girl you ever want to meet—a real Southern belle.”
“It's her all right. She almost tricked me, too. I almost made the mistake of signing her awhile back.”
“What happened?”
“I saw through her charade just in time, that's what happened,” Johnny said in an annoyed tone.
“Aren't you the same person that told me that as long as an artist can record and perform, the rest of the bullshit could be worked out?” Taz didn't feel like Johnny was being totally honest with him.
“Not this one. She's a lowlife.”
“I hope this has nothing to do with what transpired between me and Royce?”
“You crossed the line with Royce, but that's not it,” Johnny told him. “Been there, done that. Tell you what: Give me a call next month when I may be able to stomach some more of your bullshit, and I will send you studio work, but in regards to that Fabifolla or whatever her name is? She's definitely out of the question, next month, next year, or the next life.” The phone went dead.
When Fabiola returned from the store, she noticed a sour look on Taz's face. “What's wrong?” she asked.
Taz shook his head, then removed the Cartier glasses from his face and wiped the thick lenses. “Let's get back to work,” he said.
While he and Fabiola were working hard at trying to create a mini promotional album, Taz couldn't stop thinking about the conversation he had had with his brother the night before. Travis was doing his time in West Virginia now. Other than to let his brother know that he was doing fine, Travis expressed one other thing to Taz: to make sure he played fair by Casino.
Casino had met Taz's younger brother, Travis, while they both were serving federal time in Atlanta. Travis never forgot how much Casino looked out for him, and made it known that if ever he could do anything to return the favor, all Casino had to do was ask.
Time flew and by the wee hours of the morning, Taz and Fabiola had gotten a lot done in a short time. They had recorded four songs, but only “Touch Me” was completely mixed. “So, you go back to Richmond tomorrow, huh?”
“Yeah,” she nodded, wishing that she could stay in the city longer and work in the studio. She was truly in her element. She had been waiting for the opportunity to be able to do what her heart yearned to do.
“Give this to Casino.” Taz handed her the CD they had made together. “I told him he could have the single. All he has to do is press it up and get it played; that'll get you some buzz and create a fan base for you.”
Fabiola took the CD. “Sounds good,” she said, “but do you really think it'll be that easy?”
“You got a manager?”
“I had one.” Fabiola really missed her mother, but she wasn't able to forgive her for what she said.
“Well, you need to get one—and fast. You should concentrate on your music and let your manager iron out the details with the business. Some artists wear themselves thin trying to be artist and manager. It's not a good look.”
“I hear you. I really want to thank you for everything that you've done.” She looked at the CD clutched in her hand. “You've truly been a blessing to me, and trust me when I get on, you don't have to worry, I got you big-time!”
“It's my pleasure. I normally charge a minimum of thirty thousand for a beat and a song, but I believe in you and I want you to make it; that's why I gave it to you. Well, that and a couple of other reasons.” He took a deep breath. In a low voice, he added, “The man that sent you to me, Casino, my brother owes his life to him, and this is partial repayment for that also. But how do you compensate a person for something like that? Between me and you, I don't know what you did to Johnny Wiz to piss him off, but he's trying very hard to block your road to stardom.”
“I know. It got very ugly between us.” Fabiola dropped her head. “He tried to make me sleep with him, which I didn't. But I play that episode in my head every day over and over again.” She looked up at him, and confessed, “Sometimes I wished I would have, but then I ask myself what that would have really meant.”
“This whole entertainment thing is a dirty game, and especially fucked-up for women. Most of the times it ain't who you know but who you fucking, but being an industry whore has its downsides—trust me. That shit is like rolling the dice. Sometimes you get put on but there are some who just get used.” Taz consoled her. “As I said, you are very gifted. Let your talent and wit get you to the top. Don't be discouraged! I see a lot of people come and go in my studio, but you have what it takes to make it. Believe me. And I am here if you need me.”
“That means a lot to me.”
“I mean it. Now you better get out of here. Don't you leave in a couple of hours?”
“Yes. Thanks so much for everything.” She hugged Taz and he kissed her on the cheek. He knew she had a real long road ahead of her with Johnny Wiz as her foe.
TRACK 13
Everything Happens
for a Reason
wo weeks had passed since Fabiola had gotten back from New York. She had been pounding the pavement trying to figure out how to get her song played on the radio. The task was proving to be harder than she thought. She tried taking radio djs out to dinner, sending them gift baskets accompanied by her CD, and even giving it to a couple of family members of djs to pass along. Nothing had worked. She was supposed to return to New York in a few days to continue recording her album. It was just too much work. She needed a manager in the worst way. But one thing Fabiola could say was that being on the grind so hard made her appreciate her mother's hustle. She had way more respect for Viola, and on top of it all, she missed her mom.
* * *
Fabiola got to the facility where they were taking care of Casino a little earlier than normal. She had a few other appointments she had to meet later, but didn't want to miss her time with him. To be totally honest, Fabiola was getting way more out of the visits than he was now, but that wasn't the reason she kept coming. When she got to the door, she could hear a woman's voice.
“Speaking of things that are unaccounted for, we haven't calculated any of the charity work that you seem to be doing,” the voice said.
When Fabiola walked in, she found Casino sitting on the edge of the bed and Roxy stationed on a chair across from him. Fabiola hadn't seen her since Casino had left the other hospital. Roxy wore a gray-and-white pinstriped business suit with matching heels. The briefcase she carried was half empty, because the rest of the contents were lying on the bedside table, where she was carefully going through them. The paperwork contained most of Casino's legal holdings—at least the ones that she had been in charge of anyway. Roxy gave Fabiola a hard stare, and Fabiola returned it pound for pound before walking over and planting a kiss on Casino's cheek.
“How are you feeling today?” She smiled.
“I'm feeling like I'm in the company of a star.” He was sitting with his back straight as a board, hair and goatee groomed, wearing his ever-present fresh pair of pajamas.
&
nbsp; Roxy started putting the papers back in the briefcase. “We can finish this at another time?”
Funny how a man that's lying up could be so powerful that he could make so many things happen for so many people from a hospital bed, Fabiola thought as Roxy put the papers away.
“Yeah, we'll do that later, Roxy,” Casino said, dismissing her.
“Ciao, for now.” She smiled at Casino before cutting her eyes at Fabiola. “Later for you.”
Roxy strolled out the door.
An hour and a half had gone by when Fabiola peeked at her watch. She hadn't realized that much time had passed.
“Where are you going when you leave here?” Casino asked her.
“It's Adora's birthday, and my mother always cooks and has cake and ice cream like she did when we were kids. She has always made a big stink out of all of our birthdays.”
“The more I hear about your mother, the more I like her.”
Fabiola didn't respond to his comment. “So, I may go over there.”
“Why do I hear uncertainty in your voice? Do you have something else to do?”
“No, not really,” she sighed. “It's just that me and my mother are on the outs right now, and I don't want to go over there and mess it up for Adora.”
“Why are you all on the outs?”
“Long story.” Fabiola shook her head, and although the hurt was apparent on her face she tried to camouflage it with a smile.
“Okay, well, I'm waiting.”
“She sometimes acts as if it's her career and not mine, and that how I feel doesn't even count.”
“Well, with all due respect, she has sacrificed a lot to make sure that your career moves in the right direction.”
“And, Casino, I really do appreciate that, more than you or she could ever know. I mean, knowing everything that her and my sister and even my brother have sacrificed for me pushes me at times when I don't feel like going to this session or that dance class or even to band rehearsal. So I am grateful for every single thing that they have given up for me. However, sometimes my mother doesn't know where to draw the line.”