Chapter Three #2
Plopping down on her bed, Tyler pulled out her phone to check the views on her video. Like always, she had easily reached a few thousand within the first hour of posting. Tyler didn’t know where singing would take her, but she hoped like hell it would get her far the fuck away from her aunt.
“Ty, you busy?” Bobbi ambled down the basement stairs.
“No,” Tyler answered, looking up from her phone. “What’s up?”
“Girl, you need to open up a window, it smells like basement down here.”
“Probably because it’s a stankin’ ass basement.”
“Anyway, girllllll, I went to a party last night and guess who was asking about you!”
“Who?” Tyler asked uninterested.
“Dex.”
“Who?” She squinted, not recalling the name.
“Bitch, Dex! The guy from the club a few weeks back. He said he's been trying to call you, but you’ve been ignoring him, and I know damn well you ain’t ignoring that man, unless your phone is off.”
“My phone isn’t off, I just don’t feel like talking to him,” Tyler replied.
“Are you crazy?” Bobbi fell on Tyler’s bed. “He is famous, got plenty of money, and can get you signed! Why would you dodge a man who can change your life?”
“He’s a lil too loud for one. I thought I was about to go deaf when we went out to breakfast. All he did was talk about what he could do for me, and I’m not about to mess with him for a deal.”
“Girl,” Bobbi laughed. “I’m going to need you to climb off that high horse, give the nigga some attention, and get a deal out of his ass.”
“Wow, some big cousin,” Tyler sarcastically chuckled. “Why am I not surprised that you’re trying to pimp me out? I’m sixteen, ain’t he like twenty something?”
“Pimp you out?” Bobbi laughed. “I’m just telling you what’s real. You don’t like the nigga, cool, but fuck with him until you do like his ass, I mean what’s the worst that can happen? Think about it.” She popped up from the bed and switched back up the stairs.
“Ty, they're ready for you on stage. Dex is finishing up his set,” the stagehand announced, tapping on her dressing room door, reeling Tyler in from her thoughts.
“Ok,” Tyler answered, clearing her throat. She didn’t have time to sit around and cry over Dexter, nor did she want to.
After seven years, she was used to the bullshit that came with dating a man in the industry.
Everything they did was under a microscope.
She couldn’t have a bad hair day, they couldn’t argue like a normal couple, and whenever she was caught looking sad, they swore it had something to do with Dex.
They often called her weak, and when the world wasn’t loving them, they dragged the couple through the mud.
Tyler tried to take certain things with a grain of salt, but Dex and this not-so-random bitch had her fucked up.
Still, now wasn’t the time to deal with his bullshit, so she pushed it to the back of her mind with a bunch of other shit she didn’t feel like dealing with.
Exiting the dressing room, Tyler held her head high and strutted down the hall.
She knew everyone was watching her, but they wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her hurt behind a nigga who didn’t have the decency to handle her heart with care.
The natural switch in her hips caused heads to turn, but Tyler paid them no mind.
The hips and ass she toted around were attention grabbers.
They were supposed to look, or the surgeon didn’t do his job.
Tyler’s body pulsated as she approached the stairs that led to the main stage.
She could hear the lively crowd chant her name as Dexter thanked them for allowing him to bless the stage.
When the couple crossed paths, Dexter tried to reach out for Tyler, but she gave him the middle finger and told him to kiss her round ass.
“DETROIT!” the DJ hollered as the lights lowered. “If you ready for the Detroit Princess of R&B, make some muthafuckin nooooise,” he bellowed through the microphone, sending the lively crowd into an uproar.
Dexter moved off to the side of the stage, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy that lived in the depths of his heart.
He could never command the crowd like she did.
Even when he was at the top of his career, Dexter didn’t have shit on Tyler.
People genuinely loved her, whereas Dexter had to work twice as hard to be seen.
“The muthafuckin’ jailbird herself,” the DJ joked, gaining laughs from the crowd.
“Very funny.” Tyler flipped the DJ off as she strutted past him. “Detroooooit,” she crooned into the microphone. “Yall know I’mma cut up every time, right?”
“Yeaaaaaaaaaa,” the crowd answered, familiar with her act first mentality.
“And ladies, we gone beat they ass every time, right?”
“Yeaaaaaaaaaa,” their high-pitched screams filled the arena, bringing a smile to her face.
“I know that’s right,” Tyler laughed. “DJ Louis, let’s give these people a show before we jump yo ass.”
“I don’t want no smoke with your pretty ass.” He winked as the lights lowered.
Dexter’s jaw clenched at their interaction.
They were a little too friendly for his liking, and Tyler was definitely going to hear about it.
Wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, Dexter watched as Tyler did her thing without a care in the world.
He’d never understand how she could party all night and wake up the next day to bare her soul on the stage.
Tyler gracefully moved across the stage, dominating every dance step she had learned over the last few months.
Her long, curly bundles danced with her as the all-white body suit hugged her curves as if the fibers were infused into her skin.
The dangerously high stilettos gave her five foot eight frame a boost she didn’t need, but the heels complemented her toned legs and round ass.
Tyler’s eyes were shielded by a pair of Chanel frames, making the concert hall appear darker than it was.
“Ain’t never needed a nigga for shit, I don’t need you bro.
You fucking with a savage, not a groupie hoe, throwing hands like a man, call me Kimbo,” Tyler harmonized in a way that only she could, causing Dex to grin at her.
He was now holding a bouquet of flowers, her favorite flowers.
Putting one foot in front of the other, Dexter started in her direction until she started singing to him.
“I can buy my own flowers, or did you forget? I’m the boss around this bitch, been on my big mama shit,” she spat, causing the crowd to hoot and holler.
“Fuck outta here with them Kroger-looking flowers,” Aria hissed. “You probably bought them with her money.”
“Fuck you,” Dex sneered. “Where the fuck my chain at?”
“I ate it.”
“Stupid ass hoe,” he grumbled, storming off the stage.
“Ya ugly ass mammy is a stupid hoe for birthing a dumb nigga!” Aria shouted back. “She should’ve swallowed.”
???
After belting out half of her catalog, Tyler thanked the lively crowd, who continued to chant her name.
For almost two hours, she danced and sang her heart out, giving them multiple outfit changes, and they still wanted more.
However, she had nothing more to give at that moment.
Her feet ached, her throat felt raw, and all she wanted to do was crawl under the bed, but she still had a long night ahead of her.
With one final bow and a couple of air kisses, Tyler sauntered off the stage with a bright smile plastered on her face.
She took pictures with the fans who had purchased backstage passes, answered a couple of their questions, and engaged in a TikTok dance.
Again, she thanked them while making eye contact with her assistant.
Her social battery was officially depleted, and her stomach was growling, but food was the last thing on her mind.
“Great job, Ty!” Aria handed her a bottle of water and placed a pair of Ugg slippers at her feet.
“See, this is why I love you.” She accepted the water and paused to remove her heels. Using one hand to steady herself on Aria’s shoulder, Tyler used her other hand to guzzle down the bottle of water.
“Alright, we have an after party at a club downtown, and I have your outfit in the dressing room. I stretched the heel, but don’t put them on until you arrive at the club because they are some killers,” Aria rambled, jumping into her assistant role.
“Shane got tied up with his client in Texas, but he said he’ll see you in a week or so,” she informed, speaking of their other friend who also doubled as Tyler’s hair technician.
“I’mma fire his ass. This nigga goes from doing my hair to everybody else's.” Tyler tooted her lips. “Not gone lie, I’m happy for his bald-headed ass, I just miss my friend,” she pouted.
Tyler was selfish with Shane and his talents.
Sharing him with the world was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do, but Shane was far too gifted to be stingy with.
Not only could he melt a wig quicker than wax in the Sahara Desert, but he also specialized in braiding, cuts, and, as of two years ago, he was a board-certified loc technician.
Shane had his own shop, but he also traveled all around the country with top elite stars, keeping their braids tight and laces slayed.
His books were always fully booked, but when his best friend called, he dropped everything for her.
“You know Shane gotta make his coins. Don’t be jealous, you still got me,” Aria beamed.
“Bitch, no. You get in trouble right along with me, we need balance.”
“And do. I gotta add jumping niggas to my resume. We beat the fuck outta Dex.”
“Did!” Tyler giggled. “Speaking of that clown, where is he?”