Chapter Five #4
“Aye, if you don’t sign this nigga I am,” Czar whispered.
“You’re supposed to be a silent partner.” Rah stared at him.
“And I’m silently telling you to sign the nigga before I do it. How he do that shit with his voice?”
“Don’t know, let’s find out.” Rah brushed past him as the track ended. Logic wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead and exited the booth. He glanced at Al's goofy ass, who was giving him the thumbs up, then back at Rahlo and Czar.
“What you doing for the rest of the night?” Rah asked, breaking the silence.
“Shit,” Logic answered.
“Nah, we about to record. We’ll work out the logistics in the morning, but I wanna keep this momentum going…you in?”
“We in?” Logic peered over at Al, who was trying his best to keep his game face. In reality, he wanted to hug his best friend. Little did Logic know, asking Al what the move was meant the world to him.
“Fuck yea.” Al slapped palms with Logic. “Get yo ass back in the booth.”
???
It was after one in the morning when Rah let Logic take a break.
Al was sleeping on the couch, the engineer was fighting to keep his eyes open, but Rah and Czar were hype.
It was easy to tell they were really about that life.
Music ran through their veins and all they needed was a blunt and cold water to refuel.
Excusing himself, Logic exited the studio and walked toward the front for some fresh air.
When he bent the corner, he ran right into her.
Just like last time, she dropped her phone and stumbled back.
Quick on his feet, Logic caught her by the forearm.
“I’mma start charging you if I gotta keep saving you from busting your ass.” He bent down to pick up her phone.
“You,” Tyler snarled.
“The fuck that mean…you,” he mocked. “I think the words you’re looking for are thank you. I could’ve let your clumsy ass fall, but I’m a gentleman.”
“Are you stalking me?”
“Damn, first I’m a creep, now I’m stalking you?”
“I’m just saying. I go from not knowing you to seeing you everywhere I go.”
“Some would call that fate.”
“Others would call it stalking.”
“Climb off your high horse, shorty. I’m recording,” Logic gloated. Something about those two words made his chest stick out a little more.
“You’re a rapper?”
“Nah, I sing.”
“For real?” Tyler squinted. She didn’t take him for a singer, but then again, you couldn’t judge a book by its cover. Chris Brown looked like a singer, but the light-skinned nigga could rap his ass off.
“Nah, I’m fucking with you.” He grinned, displaying his pretty white teeth.
Tyler tried not to stare at his lips, but they were perfect.
Not too pink, but not too dark, and they looked so damn suckable.
Her eyes quickly captured his thick eyebrows, long lashes, and drowsy eyes.
When his jaw clenched, she could see the slight dimples in his cheeks.
The hair on top of his head was thick, and his facial hair could use a line-up, but the man was fine.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Logic ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “I’m a handsome ass nigga, huh?”
“W-what, no,” Tyler rushed out, feeling her cheeks warm as embarrassment flooded her being.
“I rap,” Logic admitted.
“Huh?”
“I was just fucking with you. I don’t sing, I rap.”
“Can you rap?” She squinted. “You don’t look like a rapper.”
“Can you sing?” he rebutted with furrowed eyebrows. “You don’t look like a singer.”
“I don’t know. According to you, I sound pitchy.” Tyler tooted her lips. “That’s what you said the day you bumped into me, right?”
“You did. Pitchy as fuck,” Logic reiterated, causing her mouth to drop open at his honesty. “But I know that you can really sing, so I took it as you having a bad day.”
“First of all, fuck you. My pitch was perfect, and second, you act like you listen to my music.”
“I do, well, more of your older music, back when you were on YouTube doing covers and shit.”
“Y-you listened to my YouTube channel?” Her heart skipped a beat.
Only her fans, her real day one fans, raved about her YouTube Channel.
Back then, she was a teen in her aunt’s basement singing about being free, happy, and safe.
She didn’t have a fancy microphone or laptop.
Tyler didn’t even know how to edit her videos back then.
All she did was sit the phone in the middle of the bed and sing her heart out.
There were a few times when she did covers, but mostly all of her songs were original. Back then, she had her own voice.
“Yea. I fuck with YouTube. Shit, I listen to those artists more than I do the mainstream artists. There’s a lot of undiscovered talent there.”
“And do you listen to my music now?” She wondered out loud, not sure why she even cared.
“Nah.” Logic stroked his chin. “All you sing about is being cheated on and I don’t like that shit. You’re too pretty to let a nigga play in your face.”
“I-uh,” Tyler stammered over words she couldn’t find.
She wanted to explain to him that she didn’t even write her own songs now.
The label had someone else writing her music because she didn’t do well with writing fuck that nigga songs.
The music she wanted to sing was scribbled in a notebook hidden in the back of her closet.
Carla and the label claimed no one wanted to listen to a bunch of sad ass songs, but for her, the songs were way more than that.
They told her story, they were her voice.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“I wasn’t, and for your information, I know I can sing. I don’t need you to validate anything for me.”
“Did I hurt your feelings?” Logic stared into her eyes, causing the butterflies that hid in her core to flutter.
“No,” Tyler lied, feeling nervous under his gaze.
The feeling confused her because she didn’t know this man from the bum that stood on the corner of I94.
His opinion should’ve been the last thing on her mind, but it wasn’t.
Tyler felt exposed. He listened to her YouTube songs. Dex didn’t even listen to those songs.
“Oh aight, because I was going to call you later so I can make it up to you.”
“Call me later? I’m not giving you my number. I-I have a boyfriend.”
Thumbing his nose, Logic stepped closer to her, closing the space between them. “That nigga not worried about you. Let me give you a little inspiration to change that tune. I’ll have you singing about getting your lick back.”
Before Tyler could respond, the door to studio one opened and Dex stumbled out.
It was clear to see he was drunk, which made him look weaker than normal.
Dex’s face frowned when his eyes landed on Logic.
He knew damn well the nigga wasn’t that bold after sneaking him outside the club.
Letting out a small laugh, Dex pulled up his pants and moved toward them.
“Damn lil nigga, every time I see you, you in my bitch face.” He stepped forward, roughly pushing Tyler behind him.
On any other day, she would’ve snapped on his ass, but being that he was drunk, the night wouldn’t end well.
Tyler learned a long time ago that arguing with a drunk person would only make you look stupid, so she kept her mouth shut.
“I mean I get that you’re a fan of the kid, but you can’t be panhandling in the studio, lil nigga,” Dex continued.
“A fan?” Logic questioned. “Nigga, I don’t like your music, and I promise you ain’t shit little about me.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Dexter, please don’t start no mess with this man.” Tyler tugged at his arm. “We were just talking,” she promised.
“Nigga you pushing up on my bitch?”
“Yea,” Logic smugly replied with a roll of his shoulders.
The hell, she thought, hating that her nipples hardened at his cockiness.
“W-what?” Dex stuttered, not expecting Logic to be truthful.
“I’m pushing up on your girl. She smells good as fuck, and I like her.” Logic menacingly sized Dex up.
Again, Tyler was floored. Never in her life had she met someone so bold, so fucking cocky. She wanted to be mad, but she wasn’t. Tyler was captivated by his deep voice, sunken cheeks, and crumpled eyebrows.
The door to Dexter’s studio opened, and men filed into the hallway, surrounding Logic. It wasn’t hard to see what was taking place, and a couple of them remembered Logic from the night of the concert. Dex squared his shoulders and held his head high.
“Say that shit again.” He thumbed his nose. This time, he had more confidence, but he didn’t know who he was fucking with. Logic was a street nigga and there wasn’t any bitch in his blood. Dex could have the force of the US Army behind him, and Logic was still going to stand on business.
“I’m feeling your girl and I’m going to take her from yo clown ass, now what?
” Logic closed the space between them. Dex let out a laugh right before he cocked back and punched Logic in the face on some sucker type shit.
Since he was drunk, the hit didn’t land the way it should’ve, and Dex stumbled.
Logic returned the favor and smashed his fist into the side of Dexter’s face, causing him to spin and fall like a ballerina.
From there, a brawl broke out. Logic didn’t know where Al came from, but he was right there putting niggas through glass windows he couldn’t pay for.
Pow pow!
A gun went off, causing everyone to freeze.
“Clear the fucking studio!” The lady from the front desk demanded, holding a gun in the air. “Dex, take your people back in the booth and I’ll be billing your team for the damages. You two need to leave.” She pointed at Al and Logic.
“Bottom of the barrel ass nigga,” Dex grunted, wiping the blood from his lip. “Ty, get yo ass in here.” He grabbed her arm.
“Stop grabbing on me, nigga.” She pushed him.
Logic turned his head in time to see Rah giving him a disapproving look before heading back into the studio.
Czar had his phone out recording them. He couldn’t wait to get home and show his wife the action he saw.
Czar was usually in the center of a fight, so to see someone else starting shit made him happy.
“Did I stutter?” The gun cocked. “Get out now!”
On the way back to the car, Al didn’t say anything. He, too, was disappointed. All he wanted to do was go piss but walked into a brawl with Logic at the center.
“One opportunity,” Al hissed. “One fucking opportunity.” He started the car and wildly pulled out of the parking lot.