16. Drix
DRIX
Iexhaled and stopped the track again.
“You’re flat, Merch. Come on out, man.”
We’d been going over the same section of the song for about an hour now and I was getting ready to tell him and Rome to change their shit to something they could actually properly execute.
I tried to support my brother in any way I could but damn.
They were wasting time I could have been productive with.
Merch came out and collapsed onto the small couch, immediately groaning and letting his head fall back.
“I don’t know what the fuck the problem is,” he admitted.
“Me either but figure it out before you hop back in that booth.” I looked over at Rome who was cleaning up his lyrics. “You got something?”
“Yeah. I can lay my background vocals now.”
“Good. Hop in.” I took a hit from my blunt and adjusted the settings for Rome while he tried to get settled. “Where you want to punch? The top?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s cool.”
I nodded and set him up. The music softly poured into the room and I nodded while the vocals he and Merch had already recorded played.
“Yo, yo, yo.” Dashawn made his appearance known as he opened the door and filed in, several fast food bags in hand; Alan and some chickenhead with him.
“What’s up?” I inhaled, pushed the smoke out, and reached over to dap the men.
I didn’t acknowledge the woman.
“Can I get in the booth after Rome comes out?” Alan asked.
“Yeah. Just send me my two hundred dollars for the time you’re about to waste,” I deadpanned. “Because I’m not eating studio costs for bullshit.”
“Fuck out of here. You know my shit was good.”
“To mothafuckas who can’t hear.” I turned back to the soundboard and made a quick adjustment.
Dashawn chuckled.
“This is for you and this is for Rome.” He collapsed into the seat beside me and tossed two fast food bags on the soundboard. “And stop doing my brother like that.”
“Tell him to stop doing those fucking beats like that. Bitch, I’m the victim.” I looked back at Alan who was obviously annoyed, sitting on the couch and looking everywhere but at me while the woman with him rubbed his back. “You got that shit you and Rome workshopped?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then we’ll try it.” I leaned back in my seat, then immediately sat back up when I saw Myome’s picture pop up on my screen. “Ay.” I pressed the speaker for the booth. “I need twenty. Take a break.”
“Alright.”
I answered Myome’s call while Rome came out of the booth. He snatched his bag up and looked inside.
“What’s up?” I licked my lips as my eyes roamed over Myome.
She was slightly shiny with sweat with a pair of shades over her eyes. Her hair was disheveled and she was breathing a little hard.
“You good?”
“Yeah. We did a run through of our set for the musical festival and it’s hot as hell out here.”
“What’s it supposed to be like tonight?”
“Like mid-sixties I think, so better.”
“That’s what’s up.” I grabbed my bag and opened it while Myome set her phone up in her car. “What are you eating?”
“A Caesar parmesan salad with grilled chicken and an apple with peanut butter.” She danced in her seat while she unloaded her food. “What are you eating?”
“Tacos.”
“I’m kind of jealous,” she admitted.
“You want me to get you some?”
“Yeah. Leave the studio and bring me tacos.” She laughed but stopped when she saw the way I was looking at her. “I was joking, Berlin.”
“Don’t play,” I warned.
Whatever it took to keep her eating a good amount was what she would have.
“I appreciate the offer though.” She pushed her shades back on her head. I unwrapped my taco and watched her squeeze dressing onto her salad, put the top back on, and aggressively shake it. “Ready?”
“I’m ready.”
Myome pulled the top off and took a big bite of salad. I took a bite from my taco too.
“How’s the studio going?”
“Rome and Merch are almost done with their shit, Alan is getting in, then I’m done for the day.”
“Ouuu. You’re calling it early?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to be ready tonight for your performance.”
“So, you’re going to be there?”
“I told you I would.” I lifted an eyebrow in confusion.
Myome scoffed. “Well yeah, but…” She took another bite and I followed suit. “We never reconfirmed.”
“Why would we reconfirm? If I said I’d do it, I’m going to do it.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Myome, have I ever told you some shit and not stood on it?”
She pursed her lips. “Not yet.”
“And that shit ain’t gon’ happen.”
“That nigga sprung,” Rome whispered and Dashawn and Alan both laughed.
“We’ll see.” Myome took her third bite.
“Yeah. We’ll see.” I took a bite then looked at Rome. “Get back in that mothafuckin’ booth, bitch.”
“What? I can’t finish eating?”
“Nah. You should have been chewing instead of talking shit.” I nudged my head toward the booth. “Let’s go.”
Rome shook his head but shoved the rest of his taco into his mouth, grabbed his water, and headed back into the booth.
“I take that to mean you’re getting back to it so I’ll let you go.” Myome took another bite.
“I’ll see you tonight. Just let me know where you want me.”
“Okay.”
I hung up, locked my phone, and prepped the soundboard for Rome to hop back in.
“You know you really are sprung, right?”
I looked at him and he lifted an eyebrow like he was daring me to deny it.
Shit. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’d never felt how I felt with Myome for anyone else.
I could see this marriage shit working out long-term.
I cared about her, her health, and her happiness and wanted to contribute to the betterment of all of that in any way I could.
I loved spending time with her and thought she was smart and funny.
Hell. Not only did I see her chilling with me and my family long-term, but I could see us having our own one day too.
She’d be one hell of a mother and she made me want to make sure I’d always be one hell of a husband and father as well.
Hearing her conversation with her parents reiterated that I needed to stay on top of my cash though.
That comment about me not being able to keep her afloat fucked with me and was also why I’d agreed to get on something with Bino.
If I needed to start rapping again and not just producing to provide for ’Yome, that’s what I would do, whether I was excited about it or not.
Shit. She was worth being uncomfortable for…
and if that willingness to do things I didn’t want to do and the desire I had to grow and provide for someone who wasn’t a member of my biological family wasn’t what love was to a nigga like me, I didn’t know what was.
“If you know I’m sprung, why aren’t you doing this shit right so I can be on time for her performance?”
Rome chuckled and nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s do it then.”
I started the music and locked in so I could get him wrapped and jump back to Merch before letting Alan play on the damn microphone for thirty minutes.
I bobbed my head as Myome and her group performed on the festival stage, my eyes going from her performing to the crowd, back and forth.
She was doing well. She looked good and sounded better.
The crowd wasn’t huge but they weren’t a big name so that was to be expected.
There was a good amount of people for where they were and they all looked happy about the performance.
There were phones up and people even knew some of the lyrics. I was proud.
I took a quick video of her while she walked toward me and winked before falling into the next part of her choreo. I put a wedding ring on it and posted.
“Drix?” A hand touched my shoulder and I did a double take.
Fuck.
“Monica,” I said stiffly, nudging her hand from my arm.
She giggled and rolled her eyes. “I can’t touch you now?”
“Hell nah.” I took half a step away from her. “I actually don’t even want you speaking to me without witnesses present.”
“You don’t think that’s being dramatic?”
“Nah. You told people I beat yo’ ass, Monica.” I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyes still planted on Myome.
“I dropped the charges.” Monica took a step closer to me.
I resisted the urge to argue with her. If she didn’t see an issue with trying to send me to jail, cool. I just wanted her to shut up talking to me.
“Look, I’m not stalking you, Drix. I actually go on stage next and just happened to see you standing over here by yourself, so I decided to come over and tell you I was sorry.”
“I hear you.”
“But do you forgive me?”
“Does it matter?” I looked at her.
“Yeah, it does. I mean, before we started arguing and cheating on each other and being toxic, I genuinely loved you, Drix. I hate that I did you like that and I just… I’m sorry, alright?”
“I hear you.” I looked back at Myome who’d apparently caught sight of us together because she kept glancing over.
Monica tried to bait me. “You hear me but you don’t forgive me?”
“Man, look, if you want me to tell you I forgive you so you can live with yourself, cool. I forgive you. Is that it?”
Monica exhaled and nervously shifted on her feet.
“Honestly, no. That isn’t it. Drix, I miss you and was hoping we could maybe meet up somewhere after the concert and talk about everything.”
“I’m married, Monica.”
“We both know that marriage shit is fake, Drix.” She set a hand on my shoulder and I cringed when Myome stumbled slightly.
I grabbed Monica by the back of her neck and squeezed. Her hand fell from my shoulder and her whole body tensed.
“What part of ‘I’m married’ didn’t you understand?” I asked. “Keep your mothafuckin’ hands off me because if you fuck this up for my wife I’m going to do everything you tried to tell the world I did to you for real. You hear me?” I waited for her to nod. “Then get the fuck on.” I let go. “Now.”
Monica glanced at the stage briefly then turned and quickly walked off. I shook my head and exhaled while I focused on Radiant Reverie.