8. Detroit Hearts, New York State of Mind
Music filled the space, a smooth mix of throwbacks and new hits playing through the speaker. Cutwater lemon drop martinis filled their red plastic cups. Dominoes slapped against the kitchen table. The girls teamed up against the guys, and it immediately became competitive.
“Oh, y’all about to lose,” Kyra laughed, lining up her dominoes. “Give me twenty-five,” Kira said as Jazz kept score.
“Aye, Dame,” Sincere called out to his homeboy. “Make sure Jazz ain’t over there cheating, B.”
“I got you, bro,” he replied.
Dame was someone Sincere had gone to high school with, a business partner, and also a close friend.
He stood about 6’2”, tall with caramel-colored skin and a fresh fade.
A New York fitted cap rested slightly over his brown eyes, paired with fitted jeans and a clean pair of wheat Timberlands.
Everything about him looked crisp and put together, the kind of man who took pride in how he carried himself.
When Kira texted, him, saying she missed him, he asked if Jazz would mind if he stopped by and brought a friend along.
After all, the weekend was supposed to be just about her and Jazz, but she didn’t mind.
She actually wanted to meet someone new and have a distraction from the earlier conversation she had with Chill. So, it all worked out.
“So, Jazz,” Dame asked with a half-smile, “you digging New York so far? Harlem treating you right?”
“I mean, it’s cool,” Jazz said with a smile. “I’m enjoying myself. But it still ain’t better than the D. I am glad I met you though.”
“You bugging, yo,” Dame laughed. “But I got you though.”
For a brief moment, the conversation paused before the others at the table burst into laughter, breaking the sudden tension between them.
The chemistry between Jazz and Dame was undeniable.
And after the women claimed their victory in the game, the group slowly began drifting into their own corners.
Without saying it out loud, Jazz and Dame both knew the same thing.
They wanted a little time alone. Dame was definitely was feeling Jazz.
To him she was a little hood, a little rough around the edges, but it wasn’t anything that intimidated him.
If anything, it made her more interesting.
She spoke her mind, laughed loud, and carried herself with confidence that didn’t need approval.
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, curiosity guiding them as they shared pieces of their lives and learned more about one another.
Dame had a way of looking at Jazz that made her feel seen.
Not the quick kind of glance men usually gave her.
Not the kind that only measured her body or her attitude.
When he looked at her, it was slower. Intentional.
Like he was searching for something. His eyes held hers in a way that made Jazz feel like he saw something deep within her, something she had never even taken the time to discover about herself.
He wasn’t the surface-level kind of guy.
Dame believed the real person lived beneath the mask people wore for the world, hidden behind the trauma and wounds they were often too ashamed to reveal.
Dame wanted to know everything about her.
How she grew up. What kind of life shaped her.
What she wanted out of this world. Her goals.
Her dreams. Where she saw herself five years from now.
And when Jazz listened to him talk about his life, a quiet comparison started forming in her mind.
Dame already owned a barber shop. Aside from his business dealings with Sincere.
Something he built for himself. On top of that, he was still in school, continuing his education in engineering, pushing himself toward something even greater. And then there was her.
When she measured her life against his, she suddenly felt small.
Like she didn’t measure up. Like she wasn’t good enough to stand in the same space as him.
He was good and was also educated. Structured.
Focused. Disciplined. Nothing like the men she had dated before.
Most of them barely had a plan for tomorrow.
They didn’t know anything beyond hood politics, but she couldn’t blame them for that.
Instead, she blamed herself for being drawn to those kinds of men, holding herself accountable for the patterns she had allowed in her life.
Dame, on the other hand, looked like a man who already had the next five years mapped out.
And then reality crept in. He didn’t have any children.
She did. A whole life came with her. Responsibilities.
History. A baby father who still found ways to bring drama into her world when she least expected it.
Jazz knew she came with a lot. Sometimes it felt like too much.
And as Dame continued talking, genuinely interested in who she was, Jazz found herself wondering why would a man like him want someone like me?
Comparison was her downfall, the thief of joy.
It made her overlook the blessings that were already in her hands.
Instead of seeing her own growth, her own beauty, and her own path, she kept measuring herself against someone else’s highlight reel.
What she didn’t realize at the time was that comparison creates an illusion.
It convinces you that someone else’s life is fuller, easier, or more meaningful, while blinding you to the value of your own.
And the longer she stayed trapped in that mindset, the more joy slipped through her fingers.
“To be honest with you, Dame… I don’t know what I want to do,” she admitted quietly. “I really don’t. For so many years I’ve felt stuck.” She looked down at her hands for a moment, collecting her thoughts.
“I think I spent too much time chasing love. Love that never really seemed to find me. I over give. I give everything I have and somehow it still doesn’t work out.” She paused, her voice softening.
“And I have a child to think about now.” Dame listened without interrupting, his eyes steady on her. After a moment he asked,
“Well, what do you like to do for fun? What drives you? What’s something that makes you light up inside?” Jazz thought about it for a second.
“I like to draw,” she said. “I used to draw all the time. I used to color. I used to paint.” A small, sad smile touched her lips.
“I think that part of me… the kid in me that loved doing that… I think she kind of died.” Dame shook his head.
“Well, that’s a start,” he said. “Start drawing again. Start becoming yourself again. Start reconnecting with that inner child.” His voice was calm, but firm.
“When you start doing the things that make you feel alive, everything else will come. It will happen naturally.” Jazz looked up at him as he continued.
“Focus on who you want to become,” he said.
“Focus on what you want your life to look like.” Then he gave her a small smile.
“And don’t chase what’s already meant for you.
” For the first time in a long time, Jazz felt something shift inside her.
Not pressure or expectation. Just the quiet possibility that maybe she hadn’t lost herself after all.
Maybe she had just forgotten where to look.
And that was deep inside. She thought for a moment, before she spoke again.
“I love children too,” Jazz added after a moment. “I always thought that maybe one day I could have a daycare or something. Or even be a teacher.” Dame looked at her for a second, like the pieces had just clicked together.
“You, see?” he said with a small smile. “You might’ve just said it without realizing it. Jazz looked at him curiously.
“You could become an art teacher,” Dame continued.
“Think about it. You love drawing. You love painting. And you love kids. That might be your vision right there.” Jazz blinked, the idea settling into her mind in a way she had never considered before.
Dame leaned back slightly, his tone still calm but encouraging.
“Whatever you decide to do, if you ever need encouragement, advice, or somebody to hold you accountable and keep you pushing forward, you got my number.” He gave her a reassuring nod.
“I like that you’ve at least thought about it.
That means there’s something there.” Jazz smiled softly.
She had never thought about being an art teacher before.
But the more she sat with the idea, the more it started to make sense.
It actually fit her. Her creativity. Her energy.
Her vibrant personality. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel so hopeless.
As the night came to an end, Jazz had already fallen asleep on the couch.
Dame had left earlier, saying his goodbyes before the night fully settled down.
Now it was just Sincere and Kira moving quietly around the apartment, cleaning up the empty cups and cans from the night.
Sincere tied up a garbage bag before glancing over at her.
“So… what you think about my homeboy Dame?” he asked. Kira shrugged lightly.
“I think he’s cool. He seems like a good guy. From what I could tell, my girl Jazz was definitely feeling him.” She paused for a moment before smiling.
“But honestly, I don’t know too much about him. I wasn’t really paying attention to him.” She tilted her head slightly. “I was too busy paying attention to you.” Sincere chuckled under his breath, tossing a few cans into the garbage.
“I see… I see. I like that,” he said. Kira leaned against the counter, watching him move around the kitchen.
“I guess we’ll find out more in the morning,” she continued. “But I’m pretty sure she likes him.” She folded her arms gently across her chest.
“But you know… I just want to say thank you. For everything you did this weekend. You really showed up for me, Jazz, and Wynter. You didn’t have to do any of that.” Her voice softened.