Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Eli
Two Months Later
“Make sure you keep your energy up.”
“Why you always gotta sing these slow ass songs?”
“Don’t be out there looking bored.”
“That’s what you’re wearing?”
“Tell them you appreciate them coming out after every few songs.”
“I’ma start looking into getting you some features from some rappers.”
“You done gained some weight? You looking a little plump in the face.”
“Plug your brother’s new deal with that electrolyte company.”
“Move around the stage. Don’t be looking all stiff.”
“I’on like your hair pinned up like that. It makes you look too old.”
“How much these tickets cost? I bet you let them rob you with these sales.”
“Have you smoked today? I hope not. That raspy shit only works for like two songs.”
“We need to get you some background dancers and turn this into a real show.”
“All you gon’ have is the guitar and some candles?”
“Have them cut the lights up so the audience can see you.”
“Why you got so much of that pink makeup on ya face?”
“I’ma set up a pre-show meet and greet. We gon’ charge these folks a thousand dollars to meet you and take pictures before the next show. You ain’t capitalizing on your platform enough for me.”
Senior’s mouth had been going nonstop. No exaggeration.
From the moment he came into my chill room, he’d been commenting on one thing, and another, and another.
It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if this wasn’t the first time I’d seen and heard from him in three months.
He’d always meet up with his son for dinner, or drinks, or to watch or play sports, but it never crossed his mind to invite or spend time with me.
If Isaac didn’t let me know they were having dinner or going to the country club, I’d get no invite.
I used to just pull up and try to enjoy my father any way I could.
Lately, I’d stopped trying. And without me trying, I hadn’t seen my father in three fucking months.
Senior didn’t give a damn about talking to me on a regular basis, but he was going to show up for every show and play the proud father role.
For whatever reason, he treated my shows like Isaac’s games and tried to coach me, which only made me more anxious.
When I couldn’t take any more, I yelled, “Senior, please!”
His and Isaac’s heads snapped in my direction.
“The hell wrong with you yelling like that, lil girl?”
“Will you please be quiet so I can focus? I need to be as calm as possible before my show. If you can’t be quiet, please get out.”
He scoffed and shook his head. “Wow. This is how you talk to me after I came back here to help you?”
“I don’t need your help, Senior,” I said, and my voice sounded just as tired as my spirit felt. “I only need your support. If you can’t give me that, you can leave.”
“I am supporting you. I’m here, ain’t I?”
“You’re not supporting me. You’re critiquing me. You’ve been doing it since you got here. You’ve complained about literally every fucking thing—my hair and makeup, my outfit. My voice. My energy. Me. My show. My ideas. Everything.”
“Look. I haven’t been critiquing you. I’ve been supporting you by letting you know what needs to change.”
Chuckling, I shook my head and released a shaky breath. I stood from the plush sofa and walked over to the vanity where I’d just finished getting my makeup done.
“Okay, Senior,” was all I said, feeling like it was pointless to try and explain the difference between supporting and critiquing to a grown ass man.
“See, that’s why I rarely come around. You always complaining about what I say and do. It’s never enough for you, L. Can’t you give me some credit for some’?”
“Aye, why you just sitting there letting this mane talk to her like that?” At the sound of Falcon’s voice, my eyes closed and shoulders relaxed in relief. “Eli is about to go on stage and perform. She doesn’t need this shit right now. Both of y’all need to get the fuck out.”
“Nigga, who the fuck you think you talking to?” Isaac asked as he stood. “You don’t run shit when it comes to my sister.”
“For the next two months, I’m her man, so I do. It’s my job to protect her, even if that means from you. I usually let you handle ya pops, but you ain’t saying shit like you don’t hear how he’s talking to her.”
“What’s wrong with how he’s talking to her? He’s trying to help.”
“That’s not the kind of help she needs. I stood out there for a good minute and listened to him going in, waiting for you to say something.
We ain’t in the locker room getting ready for a game.
She’s a woman getting ready to serenade a room full of lovers.
If y’all can’t handle her softly and gently with love, you’re doing her more harm than good.
So I’ma say it again, but this will be the last time. Get out and leave Eli alone.”
With a huff, Isaac walked over to me and kissed my forehead, but it didn’t soften me the way it usually would.
He was usually my protector, but there were times he’d agree with what our father was saying and doing, which would lead to an argument between us.
Or, he’d act like Senior didn’t favor him and ignore me, which would piss me off.
I shifted away from him slightly as he gently squeezed my shoulder.
“Sorry, baby love. I guess sometimes I forget we gotta handle you differently. My bad.”
All I did was lick the corner of my mouth before swallowing back my emotion.
I literally had no energy to respond to him.
Senior stood at the door, staring at me.
It was as if he expected me to ask him to stay.
When I didn’t, he chuckled and shook his head, grumbling about not showing up for me at my next show since I didn’t appreciate him, as he walked out.
And for some reason, the thought of him not coming filled me with relief, which was crazy because he was the main reason I was even doing this.
Falcon closed and locked the door behind them, then made his way over to me.
Kneeling, he cupped my thighs and looked up at me with love, tenderness, and concern in his eyes.
The stark difference in him versus the men who had just left the room was enough to make me cry.
Before I could stop them, tears were falling from my eyes.
He wasted no time standing, picking me up, sitting in the seat, and resting me on his lap.
“It’s okay, bae. I got you,” he assured me against my ear before kissing it.
His arms wrapped around me tighter as he rocked us back and forth.
“Am I crazy? Am I wrong? Is this how all fathers treat their daughters?” I sobbed.
“The man has never even told me he loves me or that he’s proud of me.
That he cares about me. I don’t even know if he likes me.
He acts like I don’t exist most of the time, and when he does acknowledge me, it’s to either complain about my music and life or give me compliments when I do something that he believes is right.
And here I am trying my hardest to please him and get closer to him, and he really don’t give a fuck. I give up.”
My body shook as I cried harder. I didn’t care about my makeup, the show, nothing.
I was mentally and emotionally tired, and it was starting to affect me physically.
The last thing I wanted to do was go on that stage and sing, but I was going to give my fans the show they’d paid for—the show they deserved.
Falcon waited until I was all cried out to use the towel on the vanity and wipe my face.
“What did I tell you about your life? Your career?” he asked softly before placing a tender kiss to my neck. “Hmm?”
Sniffling, I released a long exhale. “That I can’t live for him. I have to live for myself. That life is short, but it’s too long to be miserable.”
“I know that’s ya pops, but if you don’t like the way he talks to and treats you, cut him off.
I know you’re softhearted, so if you want to talk to him about it first, do that.
If he can’t or is unwilling to understand and change, cut that mane outta your life.
I don’t give a fuck who it is. You don’t let nobody treat you a way you’re uncomfortable with.
“You’re not a second son to him; you’re his daughter.
If he can’t treat you the way you want to be treated, remove his access to you.
Being in your life is a blessing. If he doesn’t appreciate it, cut him off.
” I nodded as my eyes dried. “And if you wanna stop doing music, stop doing music. Just do it for your pleasure again. Open your bookstore, have someone build your tree house, and live the life you want to live, bae. Please.”
Cupping the back of his neck, I rested my forehead against his. “I love you, and I’m so grateful for you, Falcon. Thank you.”
“I got you always. Regardless of how things play out between us this fall, I will always be here for you, aight?”
I nodded as a light tap against the door sounded.
It was Andrew letting me know it was almost time for me to head out.
With only five minutes to spare, I looked my face over, grateful that my makeup hadn’t budged.
After fluffing out my curls, I was about to reapply my lip gloss, but Falcon covered my hand and stopped me.
“Wait. Let me get a kiss first.”
His request made me smile for the first time in I didn’t know how long.
I happily obliged before reapplying my lip gloss and heading out.
With Falcon holding my hand, I passed the VIP room and noticed my brother and father were gone.
Knowing they were already seated in the audience was enough to make me anxious all over again, but with Falcon by my side, it didn’t bother me as much.
No man had ever stood up for me like that, mostly because they were too infatuated with my brother and wanted to stay in his good graces.
Falcon’s actions showed me that maybe . .
. just maybe . . . he would have chosen me over my brother.
And just the thought of that was enough to make me smile.
When I made it to the side of the stage, Falcon turned me to face him.
“I love you. You are so pure, raw, and authentic. You are love in human form. God is using you to remind the world of what matters most—love. Love in all forms, in all ways, for all people. Babies are gonna be conceived after your show tonight. Take pride in that, and fill these people with the emotion, intimacy, and love that only Eli Tate can.” He tilted my head and gave me a quick kiss.
“You’re going to do amazing, Smiley. Have a great show. ”
The crowd erupted just as he’d finished, and I was about to cry all over again.
This time for a different, better reason.
I gave him a lingering hug and kiss before making my way onto the stage.
As soon as I did, the crowd erupted and went even higher.
In that moment, my father didn’t matter.
My desire to please him didn’t matter. My frustration with our relationship didn’t matter.
All that mattered was my music, and my aura, and I was pouring every ounce of love I had onto this stage and directing it to the audience, but especially my man.