Chapter 12
Yo, I don’t really appreciate the strong arm,” Day said as he followed Kiara Da’vi inside her home studio. “Today of all days.”
“I know it’s bad timing, Day, but it can’t wait,” Kiara said. “My album comes out in a week. You haven’t even listened to it all the way through.”
“The team says it’s strong. Just cuz my eyes ain’t on you, don’t mean my eyes ain’t on you,” Day responded. “I’ma always keep tabs on my money.”
“Well, the plan was to give me leverage,” Kiara combatted.
“People don’t really care about good music these days.
They want to support the girl that’s wearing the most exclusive shit, the girl that’s with the flyest nigga, and who’s on the scene.
That was your plan. We popped out at a few little events, and I got some traction, but then you just stopped calling altogether.
I see you all in the blogs with this new bitch, then she showing up at my shows bossing me around.
Meanwhile, you sending me a company car.
What was that? A consolation prize? Like, what’s really good with you? ”
He had known it had been a mistake to gift her one of the Hondas. She had been trying to force her way into his space. She would do whatever was needed to gain clout, and it was starting to annoy him.
“Look, man, I know the album’s coming. I ain’t go ghost on you, my fucking nephew died,” he stated harshly.
The distaste building in his mouth was strong.
She was worried about something trivial on a day when he could care less.
“I sent you the car because you earned it. The pre-orders went crazy. Consider it a gift from the company.”
“So, not from you?” Kiara asked, frowning.
“What you want from me, man? I’m not your nigga, Da’vi.
You gave up a little pussy, I spent a little paper on you and let you get some shine.
You not my girl. That was never going to be a permanent situation for you.
This whole conversation taking up too much time,” Day stated.
He was so nonchalant. His heart was in the gutter.
The funeral had taken its toll on him, and he didn’t have the energy to cater to someone else’s emotions.
He knew Kiara Da’vi wanted to remain attached to him.
It was the company’s PR who came up with the idea to bring her out on his arm, boss her up, ice her out, and step out onto the scene together.
Any woman he had ever been linked to, caught the public’s eye, and Kiara Da’vi was no different.
Day had influence, so whoever he chose automatically became relevant.
Kiara was one of the ‘it’ girls by proxy.
All it took was for them to be photographed courtside at a Piston’s game, and social media ate her up.
The culture was predictable that way. If he wanted to make a woman famous, he knew how, and he had done that for Kiara because it was in his best interest. Now, she had a few million followers, several brand deals, influencer friends, and an album that he had produced on the way.
He was into her for a little while, but the conversation was too shallow to keep his attention long.
She didn’t make him work for it, and Day was a man who enjoyed a chase.
He had grown bored fast. He wished he had never indulged at all because she was clingy, and demanding, territorial women had never tickled his fancy.
He had gotten rid of women before her for less.
He had invested a lot of money into her album, however, so he knew he couldn’t just write her off like all the rest. He also felt a bit of allegiance to her on behalf of her brother.
“I want you to let me do that thing you like,” she said seductively.
Day sighed and winced as he scratched his temple. See? Shallow shit. “I ain’t really in the mood. You know? Funeral and all.” It was like her emotional intelligence was non-existent, and he was more annoyed than anything.
He went into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a pre-roll.
He had been grounded all day. He needed to get high so he could float away from the bullshit; all of it— dead kids, grieving potnahs, and women who chased him for clout.
The only bright spot of his whole day had been the 30 seconds he had spent in the shadow of Stassi’s Prada perfume.
The scent still lingered in his nostrils.
He took his time blazing up and inhaled deeply before blowing out a cloud of smoke. He deadpanned on her. “Why you fuck with me, Da’vi?” he asked.
She let off a nervous giggle. “Because you’re that nigga, Day. The fake humility is cute, though, but be for real. You’re the boss.”
“What makes me that nigga? Cuz I know plenty niggas with paper out here. Plenty guns. Plenty cars…”
She sucked her teeth. “That’s not why I like you,” she said.
“So, if I ain’t have none of that?”
“I don’t know, Day. It’s just something about you.
” She was reaching, and he was letting her because the shit was comical.
He wished it got deeper than this, but in his experience, it never did.
The standards of women were so easily met these days.
It took no effort to get them into his bed.
The threshold was non-existent, and while Day appreciated an easy win, he respected a hard-fought one more.
Still, business was business, and the six figures he had put into studio time and brand-building with Da’vi had to bounce back.
A few public appearances can’t hurt, he thought. I still got a job to do.
“PR got the press run already lined up. They lined up a performance at the Hip Hop Awards in LA, and the company is hosting a brunch the day after. We’ll put you on the stage, something dope and intimate.
Let you do your thing while everyone is locked in.
Like an unplugged vibe. Put Charlie around you, have her open with an a cappella joint,” he explained. He could break an artist in his sleep.
“Charlie? Ehh. Nah, I ain’t feeling that. Why can’t I just do it by myself?” Kiara responded.
“Da’vi, it’s your name on the marquee, but it’s my name on the checks. I wasn’t asking for feedback, just your participation.”
“Don’t forget my brother’s name is on those checks, too.
I really shouldn’t even be begging for anything in this bitch, Day.
A part of this company technically belongs to my family.
I could be coming for that. Treat me right, and I ain’t got to take it there, but it can go there.
Those checks you and Demi sending monthly didn’t make me forget Duke helped start this,” Kiara Da’vi said.
“Is that a threat?” Day asked, bending his brow.
The moment a motherfucker felt like they were owed something was the moment they became an opp in Day’s mind.
Kiara Da’vi didn’t know shit about the business that Day, Demi, and Duke had indulged in.
They were paying his mother out of loyalty, not necessity.
Sure, Duke had helped fund the company, but upon his death, he was owed nothing further.
His tone of voice and the change of his mood were enough for her to backtrack, but Day made a mental note that this could become a potential problem. He would be contacting their lawyers tomorrow to ensure Duke had been removed from all shareholder documents upon his death.
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “No, I don’t have no smoke. I’m just saying, remember that we’re family, and look out for me. If Duke was alive, this wouldn’t even be a conversation.”
If Duke was alive, you wouldn’t be asking to sit on my dick, either, Day thought.
“I would be a priority. I don’t understand why I have to share the limelight with Charlie,” she pressed.
“Because Charlie can sing a cappella. You need a track and autotune. You really want to get up there by yourself?” he asked.
“It’s hard to grab attention from celebrities.
Especially from people who do the same thing as you.
Niggas who think they the biggest star in the room don’t look at the sky.
Got to give them a shooting star for them to notice.
Nobody’s doing what Charlie does. She’ll make them notice, and you’ll keep their focus once she sets the tone.
Besides, Demi owns half of this company.
If you used your head a little more, instead of being jealous of every artist you see as competition, you’d see it as a smart move to hitch your cart to Charlie’s horse.
Charlie’s performance will have the highest budget, her tours the most support, and her promotion will have no limit.
If you’re co-headliners, you reap the benefit of his love for her. ”
He could see the idea blossoming in her simple mind.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” she said, yielding.
“And we’re going together, right? I still need that look, Day.
” Her persistence was exhausting. “We were vibing, and then all of a sudden, we fell off, and you were out with these other bitches that ain’t got shit on me.
” She huffed her displeasure. “And I really, really miss the dick.”
Day hit the blunt. Did he miss her? He couldn’t say he did.
Day was never alone long enough to miss anyone.
Women were everywhere in his life. His phone was full of first-round draft pics that most niggas would kill to be in contact with, including Kiara Da’vi, but Day had become immune to their beauty.
He required a little more to keep him tuned in.