by Skyy
“Bee-Bee. We met at Sonic’s house in ATL when you came last summer.”
Cooley looked at the girl for a moment. There was a familiarity to her. Her booty shorts and T-shirt were form-fitting. Cooley noticed the cursive B.B. tattooed on her leg. Cooley smiled. It hit her.
“Oh, shit. Girl, yeah, I remember you.” Cooley hugged her again. Her model name was Bee-Bee, but around the office she was known as Brain Busta. The woman could put Super Head out of business.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m OK, trying to make it. Got some gigs lined up, doing a Nelly video soon. I might be going on this new reality show on VH1.” Bee-Bee smiled and turned her face, hoping Cooley couldn’t tell she was lying. “So, you coming to get this bitch up out of my spare room or what?”
Cooley walked into the tiny apartment. The smell of weed and incense made Cooley feel nauseous. She never understood why people thought that was a good combination.
“Where is she?”
Bee-Bee frowned. “In the bedroom, watching videos, I think. I’m glad you came ’cause I was about to put her ass out.”
Cooley ignored Bee-Bee. She wanted to curse her out. Sonic was the reason she had anything at all. Sonic gave Bee-Bee her first gig in the videos. She took it and ran with it, becoming one of the million whores of Jam Zone.
“Let me go talk to her,” Cooley said, walking toward the room. She could see the TV lights flickering from the room to the wall.
Bee-Bee grabbed Cooley’s arm. She slanted her eyes and licked her lips. “Before you do, let me take my moment to say you looking real good. I’d love the chance to see you in better circumstances. How long you gon’ be in New York?”
Cooley couldn’t help but shake her head. She let out a laugh. She couldn’t believe what women would do to try to get on top. “Thanks, but I’m leaving in the morning.”
“Well, I’ll be in ATL soon. We should hook up.” Bee-Bee pushed her thick frame up against Cooley.
“Yeah, well, have fun while you’re there. Now, if you don’t mind.” Cooley walked past Bee-Bee, leaving her dumbfounded in her spot.
Cooley walked into the messy bedroom.
Sonic looked up from her spot in the bed. Her hair unbraided and wild on her head; she had on an oversized white tee and her boxers, Her usual plump cheeks were sunk in, she had lost a lot of weight, she looked ill. Sonic’s eyes popped when she saw Cooley’s face appear in the doorway. She didn’t know if it was Cooley for real or if it was the drugs.
“What the fuck? Cool, is that you?” Sonic sat up on the bed, trying to adjust her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Cooley said, walking farther into the bedroom.
“Oh, shit.” Sonic sniffed and rubbed her nose. She leaned over and opened the drawer next to the bed.
Cooley’s eyes darted down. She noticed the glass tray filled with white powder and a razor blade. Cooley’s eyes almost popped out when she noticed a small pipe in the drawer as well.
“What you doin’ here? Hell naw, man.” Cooley grabbed the plate from Sonic.
“What you doin’?” Sonic looked up at Cooley. She knew she didn’t have the strength to jump up at that moment.
“Sonic, what the fuck is wrong with you? Look at this shit! Look at where you are!”
“Don’t fuckin’ come in here and judge me, Cooley! You think you all that now ’cause you working at Jam Zone. You wouldn’t be shit without me!”
Cooley tried to ignore Sonic’s rants. She noticed a duffle bag in the corner. She picked it up, realizing Sonic’s few possessions were in it. “Get the fuck up. We are going.”
“I ain’t going nowhere!” Sonic said as she lay back in the bed.
“You right. You did help me, and now I’m helping you. Sonic, you’re better than this, and you fucking know it. These damn drugs and shit, I’m checking you into rehab.”
“I don’t need no damn rehab. I need a hit record, so I can get back on my feet. You gon’ get me a hit record, Cool? Or you too busy working with that bitch!” Sonic threw her hand in the direction of the TV.
Sahara’s face flashed across the screen. It was her MTV spotlight. Sahara’s face normally would have calmed Cooley down. But she felt rage at Sonic’s words.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Cooley could feel the anger rising.
Sonic lit her blunt. Instantly the room filled with the thick cloudy haze. “I don’t know why you brought that stuck-up-ass bitch to the crib anyway. I knew she wasn’t shit. Now they all catering to her ass like she fuckin’ Beyoncé or some shit, ho trippin’ about letting a nigga smash.”
Cooley felt a large knot in her throat. “Did ... did you?”
Sonic looked over at Cooley. “Nah, she too damn stuck-up. Always saying she belonged to someone else. I know you hit it though. Man, girls drop the panties for your ass.” Sonic’s laugh turned to a whooping cough. She grabbed a hot beer and took a swig from it.
“It’s not even like that.” Cooley looked at the TV again. She couldn’t believe Sahara wasn’t seeing anyone else. She looked back at Sonic. “Man, look, are you gon’ let me help you or not?”
“What, you got a hit for me or what? I know if I get a hit, they will let me come back to the company.”
“Sonic, I want to help you, but you have to help yourself first. You need to go to rehab.”
“I said—”
“Sonic, if you want your career back, you’ll do this. Do it for me.”
The only sound from the room was the television. Sonic stared at Cooley.
Cooley wasn’t breaking. She stared right back at Sonic with a stern look on her face.
“You promise to get me a hit if I do the rehab thing?”
“I promise.”
“A’ight. But can you make it a nice one. These wack-ass centers just make me wanna leave.”
Cooley sighed. “I’ll do the best I can. I’m going to pick you up tomorrow morning after I get everything together.”
Sonic stared at Cooley. “You know I always liked you, Cool. Even when we first met, I normally don’t let others come around me like that. It was something about you. I knew you were true.” Sonic lit a cigarette and took a puff. A’ight, man, I’ll do it for you.”
Cooley smiled. “Any time.”
Sonic looked at Cooley, who was tapping away on her phone. “Aye, Cool. Thanks, man.”
Cooley let the crisp New York air hit her. She felt a sense of pride. She was able to get Sonic to do something no one else was able to do. She hailed a cab and headed back into the city.
And we are bringing it to you first. The hottest new singer out of ATL’s Jam Zone: Sahara.This girl is is hot, and this song is blazing. Lemme know what ya think. Hit the line.
Cooley listened to the radio coming from the cab. Sahara’s sultry voice sounded amazing against her beat. Sahara entered her head. Cooley felt the warm sensation taking over her body. She thought about Sonic.
Sahara wasn’t some whore that fucked her way to the top. She was really all about Cooley.
Cooley smiled. She thought about Denise and her Twilight reference. Maybe she wasn’t the werewolf after all. Maybe she was the vampire, trying to stay away from someone who was made for her. Cooley knew she didn’t want to resist anymore.
22
Cooley didn’t realize how much rehab would cost. The idea of rehab for the stars was out of the question. She knew Sonic would have to settle for rehab for the D list.
“Talk to me,” Cooley said, answering her phone.
“Hey, Cool. Everything is set. I have your ticket for tomorrow like you asked. And everything is set for Sonic as well. I thought it would be best to let her just show up. I didn’t want them charging you, in case she didn’t show.” Tee walked down the busy hall at Jam Zone and sat at her small cubicle in the intern room.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. I’m sure she will be there.” Cooley looked at her face in the mirror. The last piece of her ugly scab had fallen off, leavi
ng a longer white mark, no more hideous skin.
“Well ... I just wanted to be on the safe side.” Tee knew what she was implying. Cooley knew her assistant had lost all faith in Sonic, just as most had.
“Thanks. How are things going with the house hunt?” Cooley rubbed Neosporin on the area. She was glad the ugly, bubbled up scab was completely gone. Now she was determined to get her face as close to normal as possible.
“I have three appointments set for you when you get back. Are you sure you want to get an apartment? I mean, the mansion.”
“It’s always best to have your own. Remember that, young blood. Let me go. I’ll call if anything changes.”
Cooley hung up from Tee. She brushed her curly hair. She was starting to feel more like herself. Cooley heard Sahara’s single play on the small bathroom radio. Her heart raced. She couldn’t wait to get back to Atlanta for more than one reason.
Cooley’s text alert rang out. She picked her phone up. It didn’t have a number. She opened it.
SORRY, but I can’t.
Cooley reread the text. She called Sonic’s phone number. The operator chimed in with the usual disconnect message. Worry quickly set in. She called Bee-Bee’s number.
“Hello!” Bee-Bee yelled in the phone.
“Hey, Bee. It’s Cooley. Is Sonic—”
“Fuck Sonic! That son of a bitch is gone, and she took my shit with her!” Bee-Bee threw her glass of cognac against the wall.
Cooley’s heart pounded. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying that bitch left in the middle of the night and took my damn jewelry with her. I swear I bet not find her, fuck the police—I got something else for that ass.”
“Damn, Bee-Bee. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“See, this is what happens when you try to help someone. Be glad you didn’t take that cone-head-ass bitch back with you! I gotta go.”
Cooley hung the phone up. She sat on the toilet seat. Her mind raced. Where could Sonic have gone that quick? Cooley thought to herself. She needed to find her; she needed to save her friend.
***
“Hey, bruh, wanna grab a bite?” Denise stood in the door.
Cooley looked at Denise, her eyes filled with worry.
“What’s up, C?”
“Sonic ... she just, she left.” Cooley fought back emotion.
Denise walked into the bathroom. “Bruh, I want to say something to you without you getting upset,” Denise murmured.
Cooley’s glazed eyes looked at Denise.
“Your expression right now, the feelings you are feeling. Bruh I’ve been there. I know how you are feeling right now. But there’s something you need to realize. Something it took me a long-ass time to realize. You can’t save someone who doesn’t wanna be saved. Sonic gotta want the help, or else you gon’ be out of a lot of cash for nothing.”
Cooley sighed. She knew Denise was right. She was there with Denise all the times her mother skipped out on rehab. She was there the final time when Denise almost choked her mother to death. She knew in her heart Sonic was lost, and wasn’t going to be found until she wanted to be.
“You said something about food?” Cooley stood up.
“Yeah, let’s go grab a bite. It might make you feel better.”
Cooley and Denise walked out of the room. Cooley inhaled, trying to push Sonic and her drama to the back of her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
“You know I’m going to miss living right on Broadway.”
Denise and Cooley walked out the front door of the hotel.
“It’s right here at all the action.”
“Speaking of, where are you gon’ go? Yo ass hasn’t looked for a spot at all.”
“Well, I’m going to crash at Mariah’s for a spell until all the checks clear and I book another job.”
Cooley smiled. “Umm, crashing at Mariah’s, huh?”
“Shut up. It’s not like that.”
“Riiigghhh—damn!” Cooley stopped in her tracks.
Denise looked at her friend, noticing her eyes were fixated on something else. Denise looked up, and her jaw dropped. The large Jocku billboard with her photograph hit them dead-on.
“Damn, that’s my friend!” Cooley pulled her phone out and began to snap pictures of the billboard.
Two young black girls walked up to Denise and Cooley. They looked at the billboard and back at Denise. “Is that really you?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Denise proudly responded.
“Wow, can we take a picture with you?” the shorter of the two asked.
People around started to look at Denise. The tourists pulled their cameras out, hoping to get a picture with a model.
Cooley took the camera from the two girls. They stood on either side of Denise. Denise smiled, the two girls gleamed.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The two girls walked off. “I can’t believe we just met a supermodel.”
Cooley and Denise laughed at the girl’s statement.
An Asian couple walked up to them. The elderly woman held her camera out to Cooley, unable to speak English.
Cooley frowned at Denise. She reluctantly took the camera and snapped a picture.
“OK, let’s roll before I become your picture girl.”
“Aww!” Denise put her arm around Cooley’s neck. “It’s OK. I’ll make sure you always have a job as my assistant.”
“Fuck you!”
They joked as they walked up the street. Denise looked back, her billboard farther in the distance. She thought about her grandmother. I hope you are proud of me, Mema.
Lena stared at the nursery door. The whole house was undergoing a transformation, but Lena couldn’t bear to open the one door that she knew she needed to. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The furniture and toys all gone from the house; she couldn’t bear it. Brandon had hired a nanny to keep Brandon Jr. at his place while he was on the road. The only thing to remind Lena of the painful past was the walls. The pastel colors on the wall were the constant reminder that the room was for a child, a child that would never be. Lena knew it was her last major project.
Lena couldn’t take her eyes off the walls. She stood next to buckets of white, blue, and gray paint. Her gray Grizzly sweat pants rolled up to her knees, her bare feet cold against the clear tarp on the floor. She had to change the color of the room.
Lena picked up the small canister of blue paint and walked to the wall. She dipped the thin paint brush in the navy paint. With one stroke, blue hit the face of a white rabbit on the mural in the room.
Lena’s body began to tremble. Emotions rushed up to her hands. She screamed as she threw the canister of paint against the wall. Blue splattered all over the wall and the floor. With Lena’s rapid heartbeat, heavy breathing, she knew she couldn’t do it. Fuck it. I’ll hire someone.
Lena loved what money could do. Within two hours a company sent a painter to her house to do the easy paint job. He promised a completely new room by the end of the day. She promised an off-the-books bonus if he was right.
The loud smell of paint was making her head hurt. Lena changed out of her sweats into a pair of 7*7*7 Nostalgic Luxury Roxanne jeans with a fitted black T-shirt. Lena pulled her hair down out of its ratty ponytail and brushed it until her waves bounced and fell just the way she wanted them. She opened her armoire to find the right jewels to complete her look.
She opened the top drawer and nearly lost her breath. Right on top of all her beautiful Tiffany silver was the small charm bracelet that Denise bought her. She held the bracelet up and put it on her wrist. She could feel Denise near her. She didn’t want to lose the feeling. She closed her armoire and walked out of the room.
Lena took a seat in a small artsy café on South Main. South Main was one of the things she loved about her loft. She was surrounded by art galleries and trendy clothing shops that carried only a few of each product. She coul
d rollerblade or walk up and down the street or head down to the river to think. Carmen was right. If she had to be in Memphis, this was the way to do it.
Lena stared into her martini glass. The orange slice floated in the glass. She stared until the orange was nothing more than a blur to her. She heard the bell on the door open. There was another customer besides her. She didn’t look up to see who would be enjoying her new little safe haven; she just stared into the glass.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?”
Lena glanced up from her drink. She thought she was dreaming. Terrin stood with a big smile on her face. Her dimples deeply inset like the rapper turned preacher turned back rapper, Ma$e.
Lena smiled. “Wow, this is.” Lena felt herself blushing. She didn’t know why. Terrin’s look was completely different. She traded the Jordan’s and baggy jeans for a professional black pinstriped woman’s suit that was perfectly tailored to her body.
“I was walking past the window and something told me to look up, and to my surprise I saw you.” Terrin glanced down at the extra chair at Lena’s table.
Lena motioned for her to sit down.
Terrin sat in the chair, placing her briefcase on the floor. “What are you doing back in Memphis?”
Denise entered Lena’s mind. She shook her head, hoping to shake out Denise’s beautiful face as well. “Things didn’t work out after all.”
Terrin’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Terrin looked at Lena. She cracked a smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s really nothing to talk about. I made some mistakes and now I’m paying for them.” Lena forced a smile. “But I’m dealing with it. And I would rather not focus on it.”
Terrin’s eyes locked into Lena’s. “Well, I am sorry that things didn’t work out. I hate that you are not happy. But on the flip side, something great is happening right now.”
Lena put her elbows on the table. She placed her chin in her hand. “Is that right?”
Terrin mimicked Lena. “Yes, it is.”
“Do tell.”