3. Gemini Black
Gemini Black
It’s been about an hour since we’ve been on the road.
Amina was chilling. She wasn’t fuckin with me, and I wasn’t fuckin with her.
All her time had been going into the book that she was reading.
Every blue moon, I would glance over at her, just to see if she’d dozed off or anything, but she was still up.
I placed a bet with myself, predicting that we would be going at it with each other at least the first five minutes in the truck, but we hadn’t.
She was so quiet that a few times, I forgot that she was even over there.
I wanted to be respectful of her reading, so I didn’t have the music turned up as loud as I usually would. It was loud enough though. Loud enough for me to bob my head to the lyrics, as I cruised on Florida’s turnpike.
Future’s album was playing. It was his Monster album.
One of my favorite albums by him. The song Throw Away was playing.
The song was about halfway through when I heard Amina suck her teeth.
Hearing that, I turned my head to look at her.
Shit, I thought that she might have gotten to a certain scene in her book that annoyed her or something, but when I turned to look at her, it was me that she was giving this annoyed look to.
She was looking at me like I did something to her.
“What you got going on, man?” I asked. These were the first words that I’ve spoken to her in the past hour.
“These songs is what I have going on, Gemini. I’m in your space.
I get that I’m a visitor here, which is why I didn’t say anything earlier, but damn!
Are these rappers supposed to be romantic?
Like, do women really sit and listen to the lyrics of these songs and think that the things these men are saying about us is okay?
” she asked me. I loved a good debate, but she was coming at me, taking frustrations out on me, as if I wrote the fuckin lyrics.
“It’s lyrics. Lyrics that I didn’t write. I’m just vibing to the shit,” I shot.
“It’s trash, Gemini. The kind of music that you keep playing is the kind of music that make women out to be disposable.
Every word that comes out of these rappers mouths is bitch this, hoe that.
Suck my dick, fuck you till you die, like what the hell, Gemini.
Why is this the kind of music that you choose to listen to?
You can’t put on some R&B?” she wanted to know.
“If I wanted to put on R&B, I would have put on R&B, love,” I said to her.
When I said it, I turned my head to look at her for a second because I wanted to see her reaction.
She had an intense look in her eyes, as if she wanted to keep the debate going, but she probably was replaying my sisters words in her head, where Gianna told us not to get on the road arguing.
I could tell Amina liked to argue. Shit, she met her match with me because a nigga liked to argue to. It was my specialty.
“Go ahead. Let me hear your next argument. I know you have one,” I went on to say.
“No. I actually don’t have one. Well, I do but I’ll keep it to myself. Gianna already told me that you get off by arguing with people, and challenging everyone’s opinion, so I won’t feed into your ego,” she spat, and hearing that, it caused me to suck my teeth.
“How is me challenging your opinion feeding into my ego?” I wanted to know.
“Because you would love the opportunity to hear yourself talk. I know the kind of guy that you are, Gemini. I get the impression from you that every disagreement feels like a competition with you. That’s why I said that I’m not going to feed into your ego,” she finished.
“You don’t know shit about me, love. I haven’t seen you in well over fifteen years.
The last version you have of me is the version of me at seventeen.
Having a little back and forth about my choice of music is not you feeding into my ego.
I’m just curious to hear what your next argument was going to be.
I know you have one, and I would just like to hear you say it,” I kept pressing.
I took my eyes off the road again, so that I could glance over at her.
When she folded the page at the top of the book, and she closed the book, turned her body a little bit so that she could look over in my direction, I knew that she was getting ready to tell me what her next argument was. I was prepared for that shit too.
“I feel like people are reflections of the things that they consume. I’m sure you’ll ask me to elaborate on that, so I’ll go ahead and do it.
I already told you that every song that you’ve played has spoken piss poor about women.
The lyrics are hella degrading. With that, you’ve been nodding your head to it, rapping the lyrics, and on some parts, you even turned the music up a little louder.
If that’s what you’re constantly listening to, constantly consuming, it leaves me to believe that you more than likely think piss poor about women,” when she finished with that bullshit, I had to take another glance at her just to see if she was dead ass or just talking to hear herself speak.
“You say all that bullshit as if I wasn’t raised by a black woman.
You say that as if I don’t have a little sister in my life that I would knock a nigga’s shit loose over if things ever got out of line.
I have all kind of women in my life that I love dearly.
With all that being said, how the hell you get from my choice of music that I think piss poor when it comes to women?
That shit is just music,” I started out.
“And your choice of music says a lot about you,” she kept saying that goofy ass shit. To keep from spazzing, I just laughed, while shaking my head.
“No, it doesn’t. It says a lot about the artists.
You act like I’m taking these lyrics and studying these niggas lifestyles.
I don’t know shit about these niggas other than the lyrics that they put out.
Look at the shit you reading. What that say?
The dead body? What’s the synopsis on this motha fucka?
” I asked, reaching over, so that I could take the book out of her lap.
On the cover, you could see specs of blood, a knife, and a shadow figure off in the distance. I even flipped the book over, so that I could skim through the synopsis that was on the back.
“Umm, can you keep your eyes on the road please? Before you fuckin kill us!” she yelled, reaching over, so that she could take the book out of my hands.
“Ay, I got this! When it comes to driving, I don’t need no direction.
Plus, I got this shit in cruise control anyways.
Back to the point that I was making. That book that you’re so tuned into has blood on the cover.
A knife. It’s a figure standing in the background, and he probably got some bodies stored away at his crib somewhere.
Skimming over the synopsis, I saw words on the back like missing, killer, bodies, and thigs like that.
Although I didn’t get a chance to read the synopsis in its entirety, I think it’s safe to say that you reading a book about a man killing folk.
According to your logic, that’s the shit that you’re consuming, right?
You’re a reflection of what you consume, correct?
That’s what you just told me. Should I take my gun from above me, and drive with it in my lap, since I’m sitting next to a murderer?
” I threw her goofy ass logic back on her and it was just like a woman for her to sit there looking dumbfounded, as if her own logic didn’t apply to her.
“That doesn’t apply though. Like, it’s literally not the same.
The music that you’re listening to is glorifying treating women like shit.
Yes, this book talks about murder, but it isn’t glorifying it.
Murder isn’t being celebrated in this book.
For your information, the man in this book becomes obsessed with this woman that he meets at a lounge.
She gave him a chance, but there were red flags about him, so she decided to end things.
He started stalking her. I haven’t gotten to the end yet, but I know that he’s going to kill her in the end.
There’s a message in this story. It’s showing how sometimes men can’t handle rejection, and they go out to do crazy things like this.
What’s the message with the music that you listen to, Gemini?
Aside from talking about women as if we’re just objects, and calling us bitches and hoes,” she wanted to know.
Call me crazy, but I loved a woman that could talk her shit too. A woman that didn’t back down. I still didn’t see where she was coming from, but I fucked with the fact that she knew how to hold her own. That was dope.
“You can dress that shit up to sound as nice as you want it to. Your logic still applies to the book that you’re reading.
All of a sudden, when I fire back at your ass, using your own logic against you, now shit changes.
Now, you want to start talking about powerful messages and shit, but when a nigga play Future, it’s no powerful message, symbolism, and themes.
Keep that same energy, love. You consuming yourself with murder, so you probably a murderer.
I know now that I gotta watch your ass,” I finished, taking one last look at her.
She fought hard as hell to keep that smile to herself. I could see the fight in her eyes. It crept in for a little bit, but just as quickly as she smiled, is as quickly as the smile disappeared.
“Whatever. You still didn’t prove me wrong,” I let her get the last word.
She tended back to her murdering ass book, while I tended back to my trap music. After that, she didn’t say anything else to me, and I didn’t say anything else to her. I tended to the drive.