8. Drix
DRIX
“I’m just saying, an interview couldn’t hurt,” Chandler said.
“You want me to go sit down and get questioned for what?” I asked genuinely, lifting my arm so Indy could grab a fry from my plate.
“To say you adore your wife and nothing is going on with you and Niecy.”
“People are going to believe what they want to believe, Chan.” I shrugged and took another bite of my burger.
“I mean you ain’t really helping,” Dashawn offered.
I shot him a look.
“Did I ask you?”
“I mean, you having the conversation at the table in public.”
“Shut up.” I threw a fry at him and he laughed as he dusted it off his shirt.
We’d all gotten together to grab a bite to eat and talk about all of our schedules.
Of course, I’d suggested my favorite spot and we clambered into a booth.
Rome and Merch were wedged on the far side while Chandler and I sat across from each other at the end.
I had Indy beside me while she had Vienna beside her.
Dashawn had pulled a chair up and sat just outside of the booth.
“Have you even spoken to shawty?” he asked.
“Nah. She ain’t really fuc— messing with me.” I corrected myself and looked at my niece to make sure she wasn’t staring at me.
“Yeah, well someone needs to make a statement regardless. Either you both need to say you’re staying together or say you’re staying apart, but this limbo stuff is bad for business,” Chandler said.
“I’m not the one giving you a hard time,” I said.
“Let’s take accountability here. You’re not making anything easier for me either,” she accused.
“I’ve done everything you’ve told me to do.”
“Except stay out of trouble.”
I shrugged but didn’t respond.
This whole situation was fucked up honestly.
I hated putting my sister in a bad spot and seeing Myome look hurt fucked with me too.
She was cool people. I liked spending time with her.
I thought she was funny and beautiful and honestly felt like we were growing a friendship instead of just being coworkers.
That was probably why it bothered me that she hadn’t bothered asking what happened or believe when I tried to tell her. I thought we were better than that.
She was a woman though and nobody wanted to look stupid in front of the world. The shit people were saying about her was crazy, and while I didn’t care about outside opinions, Myome had made it clear early on that she cared a lot.
That meant this shit was fucking with her, and even though I’d been pissed about her slapping me out of my sleep, I was hoping her mental health and shit was good.
“Ay, look at your boy.” Dashawn nudged his head toward the door and I glanced over at Trapp stomping into the spot, two dudes I didn’t even know with him.
I adjusted how I was sitting and reached back for my gun, clicking the safety off.
I looked at Chandler.
“You was wrapping up?” I asked.
She looked back, saw Trapp, and looked forward again.
“Yep.”
“Alright. Cool.”
I took the little to-go container we’d gotten and dropped Indy’s stuff into it, leaving a few fries for her to keep dipping in ketchup and eating while Chandler got Vienna’s leftovers packed. Dashawn hopped up to let us both out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Drix?” Trapp addressed me as soon as he was close.
“Ay, don’t ever walk up on me like that when I’m with my family.” I looked up at him. “Next time I may take that as a threat and I ain’t ever played behind them. Take yo’ ass in one of them booths and I’ll get with you.”
“How are yo—-”
I cut him off. “That shit wasn’t a suggestion. Back the fuck up before I knock you out.”
Dashawn clicked the safety off his gun and glanced at Trapp.
“You don’t see this man’s nieces right here?” he asked.
Trapp huffed but nodded. “We need to chop shit up ASAP though, nigga.”
“Yeah. A’ight.” I hopped up. “Come on, Indy.” I held my hand out to her and she took it as she climbed to her feet.
She turned and hugged Rome and high fived Merch before I plucked her up.
She high fived Dashawn too then wrapped her arms around my neck.
I lifted her a little higher and grabbed her container to hand to her mom.
We waited for Vienna to hug Rome and everybody then me and Dashawn walked Chandler to her car.
I helped her buckle the girls in safely then hugged her.
“Is it about to be some bullshit, Berlin?” she asked as soon as she buckled herself in.
“Nah.” I shook my head. She cut her eyes at me. I smirked and winked.
“You’re full of shit.”
“I love you too.” I took a step back and closed her door. She rolled the window down. “Get you and them babies out of here though. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” She exhaled. “I’ll reach out to Myome again and keep you updated.”
“A’ight.”
I took another step back and me and Dashawn watched Chandler drive off before we headed back.
Merch was walking out of the door before Dashawn and I even got to it, which wasn’t shocking.
He was a real soft ass, R&B singing ass nigga.
So whenever shit seemed like it was getting ready to go left, he got gone.
Honestly, if he wasn’t part of Rome’s duo, we wouldn’t interact on a regular basis.
I didn’t want to hang out with a man who couldn’t stand on his own ten and Merch preferred to hang around people who stayed cool and collected.
That wasn’t me. Our personalities didn’t mesh. We coexisted for the cash and Rome.
“I’ll see y’all later,” he said.
“A’ight.” I dapped him and kept walking.
Dashawn pulled his gun before we even made it inside.
I made a beeline for Trapp. Rome hopped up. Trapp climbed to his feet before I made it to him, and as soon as I was close, I cocked back and punched him as hard as I could and watched him crumble. His henchmen hopped up but Dashawn had his gun out before they could even slide out of the booth.
“Be cool before I have to buy these people a new glass,” Dashawn warned.
I ripped a napkin from the nearby holder and tossed it to Trapp who was sitting up on the ground. He snatched it up and dabbed at his mouth.
“Don’t ever in yo’ mothafuckin’ life run up on me when I’m with my sister or nieces, nigga. I could fucking kill you.”
“Ain’t nobody run up on you.”
“Yeah. A’ight. You heard what the fuck I said.” I watched him climb to his feet. “The fuck you want?”
He dusted himself off.
“You shelved my album?” he asked.
“Nah. I just locked down those instrumentals and demanded my writing credits for them bullshit ass raps you tried to write that I offered critique and suggestions on. Tell yo’ label come with that bread and I’ll release the verses, but those beats I produced are dead for you.”
“You got my fucking album release pushed back.”
“Bitch, after playing with my marriage you lucky I ain’t get yo’ fucking skull pushed back.”
“That’s what this is about?” His voice rose. “This is about this stupid shit between you and Niecy? Man, I don’t have nothing to do with that.”
“You knew I wasn’t fucking with your sister when you brought her into the studio. Now deal with the fallout.”
“Come on, man. You know we can’t afford what you’re requesting to release my shit.”
“Then get contracts signed in advance next time.”
“Look, can we negotiate?”
“Get your sister to make a public announcement that she was being a bird ass bitch and playing with Myome. I’ll have Chandler draft something.
All she got to do is post the statement and I’ll drop the writing credit shit and sign off on them, but you’re going to have to rerecord that bullshit on somebody else’s beats because I’m not coming up off them. ”
“You serious?”
“You need to be glad I’m doing that. So take it or leave it?”
“Man, you don’t have to negotiate this kind of—”
I punched Trapp’s friend in the mouth and sent him into the table behind him.
“Bitch, shut up,” I warned. “What do you want to do, Tyler?” I looked back at Trapp.
He clenched his jaw but nodded.
“I’ll get it done.”
“And reel yo’ sister in while you’re at it.”
His friend stood, and when his mouth opened, Rome punched him in his shit, successfully slumping him before he could even speak again.
Dashawn looked from Rome to the friend to Trapp then shrugged and punched his second friend. Trapp tensed in place. I thought about punching his ass too just so he didn’t feel left out but decided to let him make it.
“I’ll get you the statement. You get me the post. I’ll sign off on that writing credit. Then, we done. Don’t ask me to listen to shit. Don’t ask me to produce shit. Don’t ask me to attend shit. You and Niecy stay away from me and mine.”
“Drix—”
I cut him off. “All you should be saying is a’ight.”
“Alright, man.”
“Good.” I looked at his knocked out friends. “Have a good one, man.” I threw cash on our vacated table then nudged my head toward the exit, letting Rome file out in front of me and Dashawn followed me.
We all slid into Dashawn’s whip and I called Chandler before we’d even left the parking lot.
She answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“Niecy said she’ll put out a statement admitting she was just being weird. Can I get you to draft that for me?”
“Yeah. I can do that. So, have you spoken to Myome and you plan to see it out or…?”
“All I need you to do is write the statement. I’ve got the rest of this shit on the backend, alright?”
“Yeah. I’ll get it to you as soon as I get the girls settled.”
“Thanks.” I disconnected the call then exhaled.
I tapped Myome’s contact then locked my phone before I could be bothered with actually texting her. I rolled up and took a long drag from my blunt instead.
We were halfway to the studio when Chandler sent a statement and I forwarded it to Trapp.
“Ay, nigga. Have you seen this shit?” Rome asked from the backseat.
“Seen what?” I took another hit from my blunt and looked over when he shoved his phone toward me. My eyes drifted across the screen. Of course, it was a post from the BB Be Knowing page. “What the fuck am I looking at?”
“Your wife at dinner with another nigga,” he said matter-of-factly.
Dashawn laughed immediately.
“She said if you a dog, I’m a dog too?” he joked.
I snatched Rome’s phone from him and tried to zoom in on the picture.
It definitely looked like Myome. She was sitting at a table with some nigga who was apparently some kind of athlete. The only thing saving her ass was the fact that they were on opposite sides of the table and not touching.
I didn’t bother reading the comments or caption because I didn’t care about any of that.
“As long as you don’t want me to talk about bald mouth, white tongue ass Hazel, bitch, don’t comment on what the fuck I got going on,” I responded without glancing at Dashawn whose smile faded immediately.
“Watch how the fuck you talk about my wife just because your wife got you going out like a lil sad hoe.”
“Fuck you and yo’ wife, bitch. How about that?”
“Nigga, I ain’t Trapp,” Dashawn reminded me.
“Nah because at least that stupid bitch can rap.”
“Shit. Barely,” Dashawn grumbled.
That shit made us both chuckle.
I offered Rome’s phone back to him and flipped my blinker on.
“Y’all might as well announce y’all just in an open relationship at this point,” Rome offered.
“Fuck that. Call Chandler and tell her to get that blog to take the post down.”
I merged into the next lane and took one last hit of my blunt before tossing it out the window.
“Where we going?” Dashawn glanced out of the window.
“Pop up on my wife,” I said simply.
Dashawn nodded and rubbed his hands together.
“Shit. Let’s do it.”