Chapter 20 Charge It. #2
Za shakes her head. “You’re not the only one who’s been rejected, Frankie. You think I don’t know what it feels like to be told no? All you can do is accept it and move on.”
I scoff. “Just because you take it when someone tells you you’re not good enough doesn’t mean I have to.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve crossed a line.
Za’s face changes completely. Hurt flashes across her usually guarded expression.
“Wow,” she says quietly. “That’s what you think of me?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, but it comes out defensive. Again.
“It is exactly what you meant,” she says. “You think I just swallow disappointment and smile through it because I’m weak.”
“I didn’t say weak—”
“You didn’t have to!” she cuts in.
Tasha steps between us before either of us can keep going. “
Alright. Enough. Both of you.” She holds up her phone, thumb scrolling fast. “Because while you’re busy tearing each other apart, something else is happening. People are talking about the walkout and the internet is losing its mind.”
Za frowns. “Talking how?”
“On her side,” Tasha replies. “Calling the awards out for being performative and saying the walk out was long overdue.”
“What?!” we say in unison.
My breath stutters. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” She tilts the screen toward me. “And you really won’t believe who started it.”
I take the phone. My eyes grow ten times the size.
Jabari’s Instagram fills the screen.
My throat tightens painfully.
The post says:
“Being as talented as I am, I can recognize talent in anyone. That being said, the amount of work, time and effort I’ve seen being put into RudeGal Gaming’s “Chastity” was refreshing, especially considering they’re indie driven.
It’s time we stop giving these award shows so much merit when they’re clearly biased.
Good job telling the industry to fuck off, Francine. I look forward to the next release.”
I laugh again, stunned. “Look at that, Zee. Your brother’s got my back more than you do. Ain’t that a bitch?”
Za snatches the phone from my hand and reads it carefully, her expression changing line by line. When she looks up, her brows knit together.
“Seriously, Frankie,” she says, voice clipped. “We’re using Jabari as a measurement of morality? Of all people?”
“Yes,” I shoot back without hesitation. “Because he’s got the spine to back me.”
Tasha steps closer, lowering her voice like she’s trying to keep the situation contained. “I don’t know, Frankie. It’s pretty dicey to make a statement like this so early into our career. Maybe we should put something out. An apology, at least.”
I turn on her. “I ain’t apologising for shit.”
Za’s composure cracks. “Oh for fucks sake! Listen to reason, Francine. This is not a good look. At all. You’re so quick to fly off the handle, you’re not thinking it through.”
“You aren’t being a good friend right now, Za.” That takes her aback but I continue. “Right or wrong, I back you. Always. And you can’t get off your respectability high horse for once and stand on my side? You let Jabari do it instead?”
Her eyes flash. “First off, don’t you ever say I’m not a good friend to you. Second. How dare you compare me to Jabari? After everything? Seriously Frankie?” She pauses as she realizes. “And when did you two get so close? Why is he even speaking on this?”
I stop breathing for half a second.
Fuck.
I need to leave.
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “But I’m glad he did. Seems like I can’t expect the same from you.”
Za’s mouth opens. Then closes.
“That’s not fair,” she says softly.
I wipe away the last of my tears and take a step away. “Neither is tonight.”
“Frankie, wait—” Za reaches for my arm.
I pull back.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
I turn just enough to look at her. My eyes burn, my face still tight from crying, my chest still unsteady. “To get that drink.”
“Alone?”
“Yes,” I say, firm. “Alone. Don’t wait up.”
I don’t remember choosing the bar.
One minute I’m outside the venue with my chest tight and my head buzzing, the next I’m pushing through a heavy door into somewhere loud and dim and warm.
I take an empty stool at the bar and grip the edge so it can keep me upright.
“Vodka soda,” I say, already reaching for my card. “Make it fucking strong, yeah?”
The bartender doesn’t ask questions. Bless him.
As he pours, my thoughts keep looping.
Za and I don’t fight like that.
We disagree, sure. We bicker. We snap. But we don’t yell at each other.
She’s the one person who knows every version of me and tonight it felt like we were standing on opposite sides of the planet. Disappointed is the least I could say. I never thought she’d fight me on something like this.
The bartender slips the drink my way and I knock back half before I even turn on the stool.
I replay her face when I said Jabari had my back more than she did. The hurt that flashed there before she locked it down.
I know that look.
‘Yet another person who prefers my brother.’
The very look I’m afraid of receiving if she finds out I’ve been sleeping with him.
Why did I even say that? Because it was true at that moment? Because I felt abandoned?
I hate that about myself. I never think things through before I do them.
“Another,” I say, sliding the glass forward.
The bartender raises a brow. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I say flatly.
As he pours again, my phone buzzes in my clutch.
I look at my Lock Screen and see it.
Discord.
I almost ignore it. Almost. But muscle memory kicks in and I unlock my screen.
Fucking hell.
So many friend requests now to join my server.
Is this because of tonight?
A username pops up immediately for a private chat.
￡100,000 donated.
I stop breathing. The message attached is short:
soz about the loss.. heres to next time.
My vision blurs.
“What the fuck,” I whisper, staring at the screen.
One hundred thousand Great Britain pounds.
Is this guy mental?
I shove my phone face-down on the bar and suddenly the room feels too loud.
The bartender sets the drink down in front of me. “You alright?”
“Toilet,” I say, already sliding off the stool.
I don’t wait for directions. I follow the little sign down a narrow hallway and push into the women’s room, locking myself into the first stall. The second the door shuts, my body gives up.
I barely have time to lean over before I’m retching into the toilet, the alcohol and adrenaline and grief all coming up at once.
My eyes water. My hands shake.
When it’s over, I flush and sit back on the toilet lid, breathing hard, then remember why I came in here and lean forward again, this time to pee.
My hands are still trembling.
I rest my forehead against the stall door and close my eyes.
Get it together.
Get it together.
One hundred thousand pounds.
I look down at the seat of my underwear and see a faint red.
Oh. Of course.
I flush, stand, and move to the sink.
My face is blotchy. Eyes red. Mascara smudged under my lashes. I look wrecked.
OH! Of course!
I splash cold water on my face and grip the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection.
My phone buzzes again in my hand.
Another message from the same user:
hope ur okay.
I dry my hands, unlock my phone, and stare at the chat box then type.
Frankie: thank u… seriously. dat means more than u know.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
User: u deserve it, i know how hard u worked. Chastity deserved better.
I swallow.
Frankie: can i ask u sumn?
User: sure.
My heart pounds as I type.
Frankie: would u be open to meeting in person?
Frankie: just to talk… maybe future stuff.
There’s a pause, longer this time and I brace myself for embarrassment.
Then—
User: yeah. id like that. i actually was hoping u would ask.
I sink down onto the closed toilet lid again, phone clutched tight in my hand.
Holy shit.
Frankie: im in London near the awards venue tonight… if you’re around.
User: i know.
That makes my stomach flip.
Frankie: dat wasn’t meant to sound weird.
User: its late frankie dont invite strangers to drink with u.
User: how about tomorrow?
I close my eyes and exhale slowly. It is reckless to invite a stranger for drinks at this hour of night.
Frankie: understandable… we can meet at my office tomorrow @ 10:00. ill send the details.
User: 13:00 works best cause i got other obligations.
Frankie: okay. Thank u & thank u for the money. All of it.
User: No worries.
User: im so proud of u for walking out btw.
My throat tightens again, and this time I don’t fight it.
Frankie: cheers.