Chapter 20 Quade
The bass was thumping before we’d even made it through security, and I would be lying if I said my heart wasn’t echoing the rhythm.
It had been years since I’d been backstage at a show and years since I’d performed in front of a crowd.
And yeah, I was shook. I didn’t get scared of a lot of shit, but resurrecting Quae Lo had me bothered.
After this, the industry would either come running or pretend they didn’t see me.
And honestly? I wasn’t sure which would mess me up more.
“You’re not doing this for them.” Noa rubbed my knee, reading my mind as we cruised backstage by golf cart.
She was tucked beside me, her hand resting on my knee, like she knew that was the only thing that kept me from dipping out.
I smiled down at her. We’d only been official for two weeks, and it’d been the best damn two weeks of my life.
The way we fit into each other's worlds was top-tier. I already knew she was my rib, my person. The shit I’d shared with her, nobody else knew, and I knew it was safe with her.
I wanted to give her the world, which was half the reason I was here.
Ten thousand dollars would help me pay off the repairs for her home.
“OMG! Is that Tez Loc!” Teagan shouted from behind us, nearly leaping from the golf cart.
“Yes! That’s him.” Jess pointed, her voice loud enough to overshadow the entire audience. I shook my head. These two together were a match made in extra heaven. They hadn’t stopped talking since they’d met back at the house to come here.
“Uncle Quade, look!” Zy pointed his camera toward Tez Loc, one of the rappers performing tonight, with excitement.
I nodded, smirking. This was nothing new to me.
Yeah, the faces were different, but nothing had changed.
Security bands, groupies, walkie-talkies, people yelling over each other—it was organized chaos with the smell of sweat and weed.
“Ron! You see Tez Loc?” Zy hollered. Ron didn’t even glance up. He was trailing somewhere in the back, glued to his phone. The man was a nervous wreck. He was proposing to Jess later tonight in a private, intimate setup when we left here.
“Alright, y’all, chill,” I said, still grinning.
“Boy, please. I might find my husband back here.” Teagan waved me off just as the cart came to a stop in front of my dressing room.
“Quade fucking Lo!” Dru, the CEO of Eight24, greeted me the moment I stepped off the cart.
“Finally, bro. I feel like we’ve been texting for decades.
” He extended his hand to dap me up. “This is my brother, Blue,” he added, nodding toward the taller nigga on the side of him.
“My business partner. He don’t say much, but he still calls the shots.
It was his idea to have you pop out tonight. ”
“Appreciate y’all inviting me out.” I dapped up Blue, and we exchanged greetings.
“It was nothing. We’ve both been fans of yours for years,” Blue said. “Glad you slid through.”
“Who you got with you?” Dru asked as I helped Noa get settled in her wheelchair.
“This is my girl, Noa.” I gestured to her. “Her sister, my sister, my nephew, and you know Ron.”
Blue and Dru waved at my entourage. “Nice to meet y’all.”
“Damn, y’all fine in real life, huh?” Teagan stepped in front of me and extended her hand to Blue and Dru, making Jess and Noa burst out laughing.
“We appreciate the love, queen, but I’m not allowed to shake other women’s hands.” Dru lifted his left hand, flashing his wedding band.
Blue smirked and did the same. “Respectfully, my wife will fight you.”
Teagan shook her head as she put her hand back down to her side. “I don’t want any smoke with Kay and Marli. I was just saying.” She laughed just as cheers erupted from the stage nearby, and a tall, shirtless nigga with dyed dreads jogged off stage, dripping sweat.
“Set change!” someone yelled as they handed him a towel and a bottle of water.
“Aye, Money!” Dru waved him over. As soon as he saw us, his face lit up.
“Yo!” he called out, jogging over. “Ain’t no way this Quae Lo right here. Respect, fam.” He approached me with a big-ass chain around his neck. “Man, you’re one reason I picked up a mic. Your mixtape era is unmatched. Real talk.”
I laughed, shaking his hand. “That’s love, bro. You doing your fucking thing. Thanks for having me.”
“Of course. Them niggas tryna clown you online, so we’re gonna give them something to talk about. Thanks for popping out.” He looked back at Dru. “You give him the rundown?”
“’Bout to,” Dru said. “When he goes back out, he’s gonna drop the old joint first, then you walk out.
The crowd gon’ go crazy. Then we’re gonna run a melody of yo’ hits.
” Dru gave me the rundown on how it was going to work.
I nodded my head. We’d gone over it already. I was rusty, but I wasn’t new to this.
“Take a minute. Get settled. The team will escort your people front and center. We made sure the route was wheelchair accessible, like you requested,” Blue added.
“Oh, and the payment should hit your account in about five minutes.”
“Got it!” I dapped them all up one last time before they rushed off. Blue and Dru were cool people. They definitely had a different vibe from my former record label, Savage Row.
Somebody from the staff leaned in, head tilted like he was mid-sprint. “We ten minutes out. Quae Lo, I can escort your people to their seats if y’all ready.”
Noa’s fingers slipped into mine, and she looked up at me. “You good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Just feel like I’m about to walk into the slaughter house.”
She smirked. “Do you need me to give you some backstage coochie to loosen up?”
I smirked at her perfect ass. If we had time, I would take her up on that offer. “Don’t play with me. We can cancel this motherfucker.” I bent down and kissed her, and she kissed me back before tapping her thumb against my mouth.
“I’ll be out there singing every lyric,” she said. “You got this.”
“Y’all so cute!” Teagan fanned herself dramatically behind us, making everybody laugh.
“Go remind them people who you are, little brother.” Jess pulled me into a quick hug before joining the stagehand.
“Don’t overthink it. Just do you.” Ron smacked my back.
“You got this, Unc,” Ty said as he joined everybody over by the exit.
“See y’all in a minute.” I chucked them all the deuces before dipping into the green room real quick to get right. I checked myself in the mirror, making sure my hoodie and chains were laying right. I looked down at the fresh pair of J’s on my feet, making sure they were laced.
“Let’s do this,” I told my reflection before darting out the door.
“Quae Lo? This way. They’re ready.” A stagehand was already waiting for me when I walked out. I nodded and followed behind, my heartbeat on a thousand.
“You’ll come out from here,” he said and then left me alone behind the curtain. I peeked out just long enough to find Noa. She was right in front, grinning up at the stage lights like she was looking for me. My heart beat steadied, and just like that, I was ready to do this shit.
“Y’all remember this shit!” YFN Money announced to the crowd, and the beat to one of my first underground records dropped. “Make some motherfucking noise for Quae Lo!”
My name echoed through the speakers, and I walked out, mic in hand.
“It’s Quae motherfucking Lo!” The crowd erupted, and every phone in the building shot into the air. Mouths were on the floor like they’d seen a ghost. I gripped the mic and let the first verse fall out like it never left me.
“Let’s go! We screaming! Quae got next. Quae got next.
Wrist stay froze, and a Glock on my hip.
” Every word hit, and the audience was right there with me, giving me the same energy I was giving them, and that energy—that shit crawled up my veins and gave me a high that I hadn’t experienced since before prison bars and bad contracts.
“Quae got next, Quae got next.” I pointed the mic at the crowd so they could finish.
“Ten toes down, never fold, never flex.” The crowd finished the course, and I turned the mic around and kept going.
“Name in they mouth, niggas better come correct. Talk real slick. Get the whole block checked,” I bellowed out as the beat changed to my most successful song.
“Money up… Money up… Money up!” I screamed, and the crowd went crazy.
“Y’all niggas done fucked up. Y’all let me get my money up!
” My eyes scanned the crowd, and I immediately found Noa.
She was mouthing my lyrics, smiling like she’d just won the lottery.
I moved across the stage and stood right in front of her.
I pointed the mic in her direction so she could sing along.
“Got my money up, flipped it twice. Yeah, I did that. Niggas ain’t on shit. I’ll take their life.” She sounded so fucking cute rapping my shit word-for-word. “I don’t pray, bitch. I roll the dice. Yeah, I did that.”
“If she’s bad, she gettin’ a flight. And if I want it?
Fuck it—What’s the price?” I finished the lyric, looking her dead in the eyes, and right there, I felt it.
That spark. The answer to the question Noa had asked me weeks ago.
Who was I rapping for? It wasn’t the fame.
It wasn’t the money. It was the release.
The only place I ever felt like my voice mattered was in a verse.
“Money up, money up, the industry, done fucked up. Y’all done fucked around.
Let me get my money up.” I finished the last line.
“I’m Quae Lo and I fucking love y’all, Azalea.
Thank you, YFN Money. Thank you, Eight24!
” I walked offstage, still breathless, the roar of the crowd still fueling me on.
Someone handed me a towel, and I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
Laying rest to all my demons in one set was hard work.
YFN Money was right behind me, coming off the stage, his grin wide as ever.
“Man”—he slapped my shoulder—“you still got it, my guy. You just did that shit.”
I nodded. “Appreciate that. I forgot how good this feels.”
He laughed. “Well, you know we at the studio tomorrow. I’m laying down some new shit. You should come through.”
“Come to the studio?” I raised a brow. “For real?”
“Hell yeah. I already told Dru. I would love a Quae Lo feature.” He paused and looked me over.
“I don’t know, man. I may be allergic to the booth now. I ain’t been in so long.”
Money shook his head. “Just come through. I got a few singles. You just see if anything speaks to you.”
“I don’t know, man. I’ll think about it.”
“If you decide to pull up, hit Dru for the info.”
“Bet!” He headed back onstage, and I felt Noa’s presence before I saw her.
“Oh my God, that was so good!” Her arms wrapped around me, and mine around her. I made sure I was supporting her legs and lifted her into the air. Naturally, she wrapped her legs around my waist. “Did I just hear Money invite you to the studio?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God! That’s huge.”
“Big!” Jess cosigned as everyone crowded around me. “Don’t even try to say you’re not going… I know you.” Jess pointed her finger at me and shook her head. Am I going? Was I really ready to record again?
“I told him I’ll think about it.”
“Quade!” everybody said in unison.
“I’m just playing. I’ma go, but if I don’t like the tracks, I’m not hopping on nothing.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Noa swooned in my ear. “I’m so proud of you.”
“You proud of me, baby?” I kissed her lips and started walking us toward the exit, her body still wrapped around mine.
“More than proud,” she whispered. I hadn’t felt this good in so long. In the past, I’d ended shows with random women, late-night partying, and liquor. But this? This was different.
“You show me tonight.” I said it low enough for only her ears.
“Mmhmm,” she hummed, and I felt her cute little smirk against my neck. If this was the kind of love I’d get at the finish line, I’d pop out at a thousand concerts. Shit, I’d headline my own as long as Noa was my prize at the end.