3. Ozyris Brentley
“Aye, y’all gotta dip.”
I heard a voice and opened my eyes slightly, looking up at my brother while squinting against the sun seeping through my huge floor-to-ceiling windows.
PB began shaking the women lying on either side of me. They slowly stirred, sucking their teeth, moaning, and groaning.
“Bruh, chill,” I managed to say, my voice low. I wasn’t in the mood for whatever the fuck he was on today.
I had been up late as hell, with whoever the hell these women were until the sun came up, so I hadn’t gotten much sleep. My body was sore as hell, my head was hurting, and my attitude was about to be on a hunnid if he didn’t get the fuck out.
“Come back later. A nigga sleepin’.”
He laughed. “Nah, they gotta go. Ladies, get y’all shit and hurry up.”
One of the girls sat up with her hair all over the place and mascara smudged under her eyes. “Damn, can we at least get some water or something before we go?”
“Yeah, chef gon’ fix you a to-go cup.” PB wasn’t playing. He was already snatching the covers back.
They quickly gathered their clothes and left, mumbling under their breath.
“Bruh, you a menace,” I mumbled.
“Nah, big bruh, that’s all you. Get up, though. Chef got breakfast ready, and we got shit to talk about.”
I sat up slowly. “What time is it?”
“Don’t worry ’bout that. Just get up.”
I threw on some sweats and headed for the bathroom. I had to piss bad. With my eyes still half-open, I handled my business, washed my face, brushed my teeth, then headed for the kitchen, yawning like a muthafucka.
Chef Marcus had the kitchen smelling good. Pancakes, turkey bacon, cheese eggs, and those little seasoned breakfast potatoes he always made. He was the best of the best, and the icing on the cake was that he was our uncle.
I believed in keeping it all in the family by any means necessary.
Unc was more like a father figure to us.
It wasn’t that our pops hadn’t been around.
Ozyris Sr. had been a good man when he was alive, but Unc stepped up and helped keep the family in line after we lost him.
I would’ve given Unc anything he wanted in a heartbeat, but he loved to cook and would rather work for it.
Who was I to turn down good food and good help?
Unc slid a coffee mug in front of me as soon as I sat down. PB was already sipping on his.
I wrapped both hands around the mug and breathed it in for a second before taking a sip. “Why the fuck you stroll yo’ dumbass in here, waking me up? It better be fucking important.”
PB smirked as he stirred the eggs around his plate, and I could tell something was weighing on him. PB didn’t get quiet for no reason.
“Reesie called me last night,” he finally said.
Just like that, the whole room felt different. My sister’s name always did that to me.
I sighed, taking a moment to gather my words. “The fuck she want now?”
“Money. She said she’s behind on rent, needs groceries.” He wasn’t looking at me. He just kept pushing his eggs around. “I don’t even know what to tell her no more, O.”
King, our nephew, was five years old now. He was the coolest little man you’d ever meet, with big eyes just like Reesie used to have before all that shit got ahold of her.
Reesie was on drugs bad. I had been giving her big lump sums of money in hopes that she’d do the right thing and get the help she needed.
I had even offered to take lil’ man while she went to rehab.
Each time, she’d agree and then never follow through, so talking to her was like talking to a fucking wall.
King’s father helped as much as he could, but even he was struggling to make ends meet.
Oftentimes, everything fell on Reesie. That was the only reason I still had sympathy for her.
Raising a small child alone couldn’t be easy, but damn.
She couldn’t try hard enough to get off that shit for her son?
“We paid for what, three programs now?” I set my mug down harder than I meant to. “She do good for a couple weeks, get herself together, then she right back at it.”
“I know.” PB rubbed his hand down his face. “I’m just tired. I got King asking me why his mama look sick all the time. What the fuck am I supposed to tell a five-year-old?”
I didn’t have an answer for that either. If it wasn’t for this voice God gave me, there was no telling where I would’ve ended up.
“I got too much on my plate for this right now, man. Real talk.” I shook my head.
“The contest, the label ridin’ my dick, and a new album on the way.
I love my sister to death, but I swear, bruh, I’m not ’bout to keep enabling her ass.
You know she always been good with numbers and shit.
I needed a real good accountant, and she turned down the position.
She don’t wanna work. She thinks because I am who I am, she can just keep holding her hand out, but I’m tired of her shit bruh. ”
PB didn’t say anything. He just nodded slowly because he felt the exact same way.
I glanced down when my phone vibrated on the table. The time illuminated across the screen, shocking the hell out of me. It was almost one o’clock.
“Hold up. They announced the winners already?”
PB laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, they picked the six. The team already sent the names over to Derez.”
I rubbed my temples. The whole thing had been Derez and the label’s idea in the first place. It wasn’t like a nigga wasn’t a people person, but I wasn’t in the mood for any of this shit.
I thought the situation with Gin would’ve been enough to “soften me up,” in the words of Derez, but he thought the contest would help with more damage control.
After a month of fans submitting videos, essays, and whatever the fuck else, talking about why they deserved to spend a weekend with me, the team had picked six winners out of the thousands who entered.
For three days, starting tomorrow, we’d be documenting the whole thing. I’m talking camera crews following us around and filming damn near everything since the label also thought it would be good to give the fans a documentary to go along with the new album.
I exhaled.
“Six people for three days,” I said, more to myself than him. “Derez better have somebody vetting these folks. I ain’t tryna wake up on no blog for cussing out somebody’s grandma.”
Unc laughed as he walked over and set a cup of orange juice in front of me. “That’s why they picking ’em carefully. Chill out, nephew.”
“Yeah, I hope so.” I stuffed a piece of bacon into my mouth.
PB looked at me over his mug and started cracking up out of nowhere. “That nigga got yo’ ass good last night.”
I sucked my teeth. “Yeah, but guess what? He somewhere mad, and he can’t make me unfuck his bitch. So, I’m still that nigga. Besides, he hit like he just learned to do that shit last week.”
PB’s laughter died down. “Yeah, aight.” There was a slight pause as he stuffed a spoonful of pancakes into his mouth. “But who were the women you had over here last night?” He nodded toward the hallway where the girls had just left.
“Man, I don’t even know their names for real.” I shrugged and went back to my plate.
PB shook his head, grinning. “You really need to settle down, bruh.”
“Nah. You know me. I ain’t on that and ain’t never gon’ be on that.”
“Man, you a trip.”
My phone buzzed again. Derez’s name lit up the screen, and I put the call on speaker.
“It’s official,” Derez said, getting straight to business like always.
“The six winners are locked in, contracts signed, NDAs handled, and everything is clean on our end. Tomorrow, we kick it off with a studio session, then dinner later that night. Saturday, we’ll get behind-the-scenes footage at your video shoot, and then you’ll be taking them with you to your club appearance.
Sunday, it’s brunch, and then we’ll be sending them on their way.
I need you locked in and on your best behavior for the entire three days.
That means being patient with these people, staying engaged, and having no attitude. Be humble and approachable, Ozy.”
I sucked my teeth, not tryna hear the same speech again. “I hear you, man. I got it.”
“I’m serious, Ozy. This could change the whole narrative surrounding you if it goes right. Be on time tomorrow, be present, and for the love of God, be nice.”
“I said I got you. Damn, nigga.”
We hung up, and PB stood, stretching as he checked his phone. “I gotta bounce. Got a meeting across town.”
He took a few steps before stopping and turning back toward me.
“Whatever we decide to do with Reesie, we can’t let King get caught up in her shit,” he said, his voice more serious than it had been all morning. “I know we tired, but that’s still our nephew.”
“I know that.”
“I’m just saying, O. Mama ain’t here to pick up the slack no more. It’s just us.”
That shit hit heavier than I wanted it to. Mama had always been the one to swoop in whenever Reesie fell apart. She’d grab King, pack him a bag, and keep him for however long it took for things to calm down. Now, there wasn’t anybody left to do that but me and PB.
Anytime I went on tour, we were both tied up, so neither of us had seen lil’ man in months, but we still talked and FaceTimed him when we could.
“No matter what happens with her, King ain’t gon’ go without.” I meant that.
PB stared at me for a second before nodding. “Aight. That’s all I needed to hear.”
I dapped him up, right before he headed out.
I sat there thinking about Reesie some more, even though I didn’t want to. I thought about us sharing a room growing up and how she used to sing background for me way before I ever had a deal. She had been good at it too, better than most people ever knew.
Before the drugs, Reesie had been the one pushing me to take music seriously.
She used to sit on the floor with a notebook in her lap, helping me fix lyrics and telling me which songs sounded like bullshit.
Somewhere along the way, I had become the one trying to save her, and I couldn’t figure out when everything had switched.
I pulled out my phone and sent her five thousand dollars through Zelle, then typed a message behind it.
ME: This needs to be the last time you ask for a handout. This goes toward rent, clothes, shoes, food, or whatever King needs. Get yourself together, Reesie. I mean it this time. I love you and need you to do better for your kid. I’ma try to come see y’all in a few days.
REESIE: I will. I swear. TY.
Some days, it felt like I was trying to hold water in my hands, when it came to her.
There wasn’t much left to do but keep praying on it.