Smoke Before the Release: Four20 Bae

Prologue

Fiery beginnings are rooted in smokey endings.

DeShawn

“Speak nowor forever hold your peace.”

“Oh shit,” I exclaimed loudly as the church doors closed behind me.

The slamming sound echoed through the massive cathedral, silence ensuing thereafter.

Perhaps I was still asleep in my bed, having a nightmare. Had to be, since that was the only explanation for the synchronized way the wedding guests turned to face me, one church pew at a time. I was that Black guy in the horror movie about to be killed by zombies, the only feeling to accurately describe my dread as their focus zoned in on me.

Surprise. Humor. Annoyance. Each reaction was depicted on their faces, depending on where I looked. Shutting my eyes like an idiot, I prayed to be back in my bedroom asleep. I had no such luck, though.

When I peered at the crowd, I could feel the beads of sweat building on the back of my neck. My palms grew clammier by the instant, the seconds clicking into minutes. In hindsight, I should have turned and walked out of the building, but instead the only thought on my mind was to leave the aisle as swiftly as possible.

Please move, lady!I silently yearned while trying to squeeze into the last pew in the church. I could scarcely make out the woman’s face, given her oversized hat and puffy dress hid the majority of her features beneath the fabric … also making it impossible to penetrate the row without her assistance.

“For the love of God, move over,” I urged.

“Oh, not the Lord,” she yelped, clutching the pearls on her neck. “You’re definitely not using the Lord.”

What?Who the heck is this ball of ruffles? And is she wearing fancy gloves in church … like we’re back in the fifties? The woman’s strange antics caused me failure in my pursuit to leave the aisle, half my ass still sticking out the damn pew.

“Do you see just cause why these two should not be wed, sir?” the priest questioned.

“He’s talking to you, darlin’,” I heard Miss Ruffles say, despite me still being unable to see her face.

“The hell he is,” I replied, my embarrassment palpable at this point. “Scoot over!”

The second time the priest asked the question, again solely directed at me, I couldn’t help but respond.

Mustering whatever dignity I still had, I replied “No,” catching the eye of a pissed off Titan Stone in the process.

That nigga is scary.No matter how many times I’d seen him over the course of the past two years since we’d met, I would never be relaxed in his company. And adding the fact that I’d just ruined his wedding ceremony to the list of other reasons he might not care for me had me nearly shitting my pants as the ceremony continued.

Damn, I hated making an entrance. My preference was to remain discreetly behind the scenes, proven by my career choice as a videographer. Don’t get me wrong, I loved film and everything about it. From movies and documentaries to commercials and YouTube videos, I could be found absorbing it all.

The result of cinematic pieces was evident, but also the process was incredible. The imagination required, along with the different angles and effects, led to the connection with the audience, which was the most important aspect. The ability to take ten people on completely different emotional journeys by showing them the same exact thing had always fascinated me, triggering me to crave nothing more than to be a part of that world … from behind the camera that is. Making this current form of attention nothing short of tortuous for me.

The priest announcing, “You many now kiss the bride,” was like music to my ears. I was genuinely happy for my friend, Solange, marrying the uptight man of her dreams, but my ass was most excited to get the hell out of that church and to the open bar at the reception. A feeling that was short lived when the wedding party proceeded down the aisle, Rezi Stone taking my breath away as she whisked past me without a word.

I’d contemplated seeing my ex again in person for the past eleven months, a mixture of questions and possibilities draining my unoccupied moments. Would we speak? What if she missed me? What if she wanted me back?

All questions were somewhat put to rest when she strutted past me without so much as a glance. She was as stunning as always, with her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, while the champagne-colored bridesmaid dress hugged her every curve. Her lips appeared just as full as I remembered, with a shade of brown I hadn’t seen her wear before. The way the shade had melted into her velvety skin, had my hands tightening in my pockets to keep them from leaping out and grabbing her.

Crap. I was excited to see her, I knew I would be. However, the ass I’d just made of myself in the most packed church I’d ever seen, had me yearning to erase the moment from her mind and go back to my silent world of what-ifs once more.

Get your shit together,I mutely commanded.

A half an hour, and multiple mental berating’s later, I stood in the middle of the reception scanning the room for a much-needed drink.

“Du-ude, that shit was out of a movie,” the fifth person to stop me at the reception laughed, clasping me on my shoulder. He was wearing a bright red suit and feathered fedora. “And the way you tried climbing over Cordelia’s dress to get in the row, while the priest was yelling at you, had me almost on the floor rollin’.”

Cordelia? So that was Miss Ruffles’ name.

“You better watch your back though, man,” he added. “Her husband, Caden, don’t play when it comes to her, and it looked like you got her shit a little dirty.”

He brushed the shoulders of his suit despite having nothing on them. “I know I’d kill your ass if you messed up my fly shit,” he finished.

“Damn, Hollis, give the man a break,” another guy interjected. The man was huge and grizzly looking.

“I mean, the shit was hilarious, but I’m sure it’s not the first time my man here has entertained people like that.” The other man’s words slightly echoed in the room, his dig being even worse than this Hollis guy’s. He talked as though I did this kind of embarrassing shit every damn day of my life.

“Then you almost fell into the aisle again at the end as Titan and Solange were proceeding out.” Hollis laughed. “You just made my fucking week.”

Shitiiit, I thought that fumble was only in my head.

“Cheers, brother,” the guys shouted as I excused myself and made a beeline for the exit.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched them clasp hands, in agreeance with one another’s assessment of the situation, before downing their drinks.

Fuck alcohol helping this situation, it’s time to leave, I thought inches from the door.

“Not so fast, Shawn,” a familiar voice said from behind. “Last one to arrive and first one to leave.” She smiled. “I thought we were better friends than that.”

After handing me a drink from a nearby waiter, she raised a glass. “To Shawn, for upstaging me at my own damn wedding.”

Smiling for the first time all day, I dropped my head while she took a sip of her champagne.

“Solange, I am so sorry,” I groaned.

“You know I’m just messing with you.” She smirked. “Honestly, I was dreading being the center of attention for four hundred people, so I appreciate you taking the spotlight.”

Her laugh seemed genuine and lighthearted, fully reminiscent of the Solange I knew and loved like a big sister.

“My bad, did you say four hundred people?” I choked, nearly spitting out the champagne I’d gulped. “As in there were four huuundred people present in the church earlier?”

My words dragged out slowly, hoping the facts would change the slower I said it.

“Yeah. Someone captured it on video, too. You’re already trending,” another stranger interjected, flashing her phone in my face.

Clearly, she was eavesdropping, but at this point I was beginning to expect every nearby person was.

Looking at the phone, I couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of my nose, as a piercing headache shot up out of nowhere. I was trending on social media in what had to be one of my most publicly embarrassing moments in my life. However, if it wasn’t for Miss Ruffles—Cordelia—I’m sure the shit wouldn’t have gone viral. Her look undoubtedly added to how insane the situation appeared.

“It’s okay,” Solange sighed, pulling me in for a hug. “It’ll blow over by tomorrow.”

I tried to let her words settle in while she got pulled away by another guest.

It’ll blow over. It’ll blow over,chanted in my mind. Literally shaking my body to try and shake off the moment, I pumped myself up. I was probably being a punk trying to run away anyways. Sure, it’d been a day, but the whole ordeal was far from the hardest thing I’d gone through, even this year alone. It was embarrassing, no denying that point, but if Solange wasn’t angry, then I could let it go, too.

Drawing in a deep breath, I traded my champagne for a whiskey neat at the nearest bar. I honestly preferred a sweet, fruity cocktail, but a gentleman’s drink felt right in the moment. My tastebuds, however, would take more convincing.

Just as I took another swig, the hairs on my arm stood to full attention. Despite struggling to sip my whiskey, I knew my body’s reaction had little to do with the alcohol. She was near me. She had to be.

“Shawn,” I heard barely above a whisper.

“Rezi,” I replied, facing her. “It’s good to see you.”

When she didn’t share the sentiment, I decided to continue. “How have you been?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her words sharp and to the point.

“Well, guess that means you’re not happy to see me?”

Her eyes darted down, before shooting back up to meet my gaze. My eyes squinted against her glare. I didn’t recall her being quite so cold. The expression on her face lacked any indication of emotion.

“Really, Ree, that’s how we are now?”

“We are not anything anymore.” Her tone once again cut. “Remember?”

As my focus traveled the length of her body, admiring her smooth, brown skin and hazel eyes, my mind struggled against the what-if questions that had plagued me. Though they were harsh, at least now I had realistic answers.

“Solange is my friend.” I shrugged, rubbing my hands down my black suit. “If you recall, you met her and me at the same time. Remember?”

My last remark dripped of sarcasm. I knew she remembered. We both did. The day we met, our fiery beginning before the smokey end. It was hard to forget. I’d met Titan Stone and his niece, Rezi, two years ago, but it felt like a lifetime. That’s how the Stones worked. They got under your skin, and the next second you were a goner. However, just like their namesake, when they were done with you, they could be hard as rock. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Unforgettable. A hell of a dangerous combination.

The side of my mouth twitched, a slanted smile escaping while I dropped my head, my own thoughts overtaking the moment.

“I didn’t think this would be easy,” I huffed. “But you’re just determined to make it hard as shit, huh?”

“You never could handle the heat,” she spat, a comment that my Rezi would have never spoken.

When we met, she was nothing except beauty and light, brightening every space she entered. The woman in front of me, though, didn’t resemble any of that. She was a fucking stranger. We were together one year, being inseparable from the first day we met. Still, it was now eerily apparent that I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.

“So, you admit you’re pissed?” I stated. “That’s progress.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy,” she pleaded. “You ended things … or did you forget?”

When I stepped toward her, she stumbled backwards. Catching her arm, I steadied her against my chest. Having her close, even with her tough demeanor, still felt right. Same struggle I had every time I’d been near her in the past, even at the end of our relationship. Holding her never felt wrong.

“Shawn, just leave,” she replied, pushing away. “Hasn’t today been embarrassing enough for you?”

Her words were still exacting, but her appearance changed. Sadness was reflected in her eyes with unshed tears building in their reflection. If there was one thing I couldn’t take, it was her crying, and despite Solange being a good friend of mine, Titan was Rezi’s family. She belonged here … and I guess I didn’t.

“Alright, Ree, you win. I’m gone.”

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. I’d rushed my last video assignment to make it back to the city in time to come to this wedding … to see her. Turned out it was all for nothing.

I exited the ballroom, my voice barely above a whisper when I recited, “I’m fine. It’s good. I’ll live.”

That night I found myself lying in bed, lighting a joint one of my boys had left for me. I wasn’t much of a smoker, but after today nothing seemed better to help me relax. Rezi didn’t want shit to do with me anymore, and fuck did that hurt.