Chapter 2 #2
"Sure, we can do a picture and I'm working on a few things.
I hope to have something out soon." Samari's smile was genuine, even if her words weren't and her heart ached because of the lie.
No she wouldn't have anything out soon. The label wouldn't allow it.
They had her contractually enslaved to them and it was causing a mild depression.
They took three shots. The cashier asked Samari's opinion on which to post and she told her any of them.
After paying for her groceries, Samari left the store with three stuffed reusable grocery bags clasped in her hand and a heavy heart.
This was her life and it fucking sucked.
She had been home for a few hours and immersed in her writing when she was forced into a break. There weren't a lot of people who could pull her away from her music, and per her Sound Beats smartwatch, one of those people was reaching out.
It had been a little over two weeks since she had seen her friend and a day since they’d shared a conversation. It was about time for her to check in so Samari smiled, closing her notebook and reaching for her phone.
"You always know the exact moment to call and fuck up my vibe, don't you?" Samari’s cheeks hiked as she flipped from her stomach to her back. The spot her body filled on the sofa was where she had been since she’d made it home and put her groceries away.
Music was therapy. Her solace and her hiding place. She needed that today, so the second she was home, she grabbed her notebook and let the words flow. Samari hummed tunes in her head until it all made sense, and before she knew it, a song took flight.
"Of course I do. It’s what I do best and you won’t say shit about it because you love me."
Samari felt her cheeks rise a little more as she held her hand in front of her face.
Her natural nails needed a manicure and she would handle that later.
She was extremely low maintenance and refused to waste money she wasn’t sure she could replace.
Not even when she was riding the highs did she indulge in things most women created routines for—hair, makeup, lashes, and nails. It wasn't her vibe.
"Strong like most days. Let’s not go overboard, Ree."
"You don't love me, Mari?"
She didn't respond right away, so Sheree yelled her name again.
"Mari?"
"Fine, you're aight."
"No hoe, tell me you love me."
"Okay, I love you, Ree Ree baby."
"You're damn right you do and guess who has a hall pass to hang out tonight?"
"Oh God, no. Whatever you're thinking, no. I'm not in the mood and you know I don't hang out."
"Exactly and neither do I. I'm old, married, and boring.
I need a night out, Mari. Cantor only trusts me with you.
Your ass is just as boring as me, so he thinks you're safe.
Please can we go out? I want to go to a crowded club, drink watered down drinks while wearing clothes I have no business wearing, dance my ass off, then go home and ride my husband while I think about all the fine ass men I danced with. "
"Ree!" Samari choked out a laugh while her eyes stretched wide.
"What?"
"Did you hear what you just said? Why would you say that?"
"Because I've been married for far too long, and as much as I love my husband and no matter how fine he is, I still have the right to explore a little eye candy."
"No you absolutely do not. What happens if you like what you see a little too much? That can't be healthy."
"I will never cheat on my husband. I love him with my whole heart. I just want to go out and have a little fun. Hell, he goes to strip clubs with his boys. Why is this any different?"
She had a point, but Samari still wasn't going to a club.
"Just watch some porn. That's safer."
"Mari, hell no. I don't want sex, just sexy men who smile a little too hard, buy me drinks, and make me feel like I’ve still got it. Having a kid plays with your self-esteem."
Samari rolled her eyes. Her girl was beautiful and her body was amazing.
Having a baby had enhanced that with a little extra weight and curves Samari was envious of.
She knew for certain that Sheree’s husband worshipped the ground she walked on.
Samari had witnessed it more times than she cared to admit.
They were adorably in love and he made sure to tell Sheree all the time how beautiful she was.
"Your self-esteem is fine. No."
"Samari, please. I need it. You're my best friend. My only friend and I need this. I miss you. I miss us. You went and got famous on me. I got married and had a baby and now we're just out of touch."
"Ree, I talk to you daily and I see you all the time."
"But we don't kick it like we used to. One night. That's all I want, and if you deny me, you don't love me."
"Are you really going to pull that card? Are you going to guilt me into going out with you?"
"Is it working?"
"Yes."
"Good, I have the place already picked out. I'll be at your apartment by ten. My hall pass expires at six in the morning and I'm using every minute of it."
"Six, what the hell?" Samari laughed at the thought because there was a little too much detail connected to this s- called hall pass.
"Okay, so maybe he wasn't that specific, but the club closes at three. That gives us time for a really greasy breakfast before I have to be home and resume my boring ass life."
"I'm not staying at no damn club until three in the morning, Ree."
"Ten. I'll see you at ten and dress sexy. My version of sexy, Mari, not yours. You're long overdue for something long and hard."
"No, that is not what this is…"
"Love you. Ten. Be ready by ten." Sheree cut Samari off and ended the call.
Samari groaned through her frustration and anxiety.
She hated clubs with a passion. She hated everything they represented and they reminded her of what she was missing most in her life.
Every shitty ass, auto-tuned track that played clashed with her soul, taunting her because the talentless individuals they kept in rotation had something that had been snatched away from her.
The one good thing about a club was it would be dark and crowded. She would blend with the sea of bodies and faces undetected. She could keep a low profile, drink, dance, and just be with her girl. She needed it. Samari needed something, so she was partially looking forward to it.