Chapter 5
Five
Dy
“ Y ou sleep?”
Brick’s chest vibrated against my head, and I lifted it to see him laughing with closed eyes. I grinned.
“I woke you up, huh?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since our last love session, but I had woken up about fifteen minutes ago and couldn’t find my way back to sleep. My mind was racing with thoughts of the man who was holding me, and I was ready to hear his voice again.
He opened his eyes, lowered his head slightly, and kissed my forehead before resting it on his pillow again.
“Nah, you good. What’s up?” he asked, making me smile.
“What do you think our lives would have been like if I never moved away?”
“We would be married wit’ a kid by now,” he said without missing a beat. I felt the urge to hide my blush behind my hands, but he had already established how much he hated that.
Instead, I lay back on his chest and asked, “You think so?”
“I know so. I never wanted anybody as bad as I’ve always wanted you. The only things that kept us apart were distance, age, and money.”
“Distance and age, I understand. What does money have to do with it?”
“I was a broke ass kid. If I had paper, I woulda ran away from home to be with your ass. Real shit.”
I burst out laughing, and Brick kissed his teeth. “What’s funny? I’m serious, Dy.”
I nodded. “I know, and I believe you,” I said, sitting up. Brick remained lying down, and we fell into a comfortable silence as we stared into each other’s eyes.
“So, Maria Striten, huh?”
I couldn’t help the grimace as I nodded. Just the mention of my boss’s name made me tense.
“Why do you hate your job so much?”
I was shocked by his question until I remembered that he had admitted to eavesdropping at the airport.
I sighed and folded my legs. “Because I’m overworked and underappreciated.
I’m basically the glue that holds Maria’s life together, and she treats me like shit.
I mean, I make a decent living, but I never have time to enjoy my money because I’m always with her.
I am sick of always being with her, and it isn’t even what I signed up for,” I said honestly.
I usually tried to put up a happy facade when talking to people about my job. The only person who really knew how I felt was Wilder. Everyone else thought I was so lucky to be working for a superstar.
Brick placed a large hand on my thigh, causing my body to shiver involuntarily. “What did you sign up for?”
“To be a talent agent. I majored in public relations in college and gained a lot of experience and relationships in the entertainment industry through my internships. When I came across Maria, she wasn’t a star, but I knew she could be.
I knew that if she got in front of the right people, she would be.
So we basically took a chance on each other, and it worked out for her.
“My former boss at my record label internship agreed to hear her sing, and as soon as he did, he was sold.”
“So she is where she is because you gave her the time of day? She should be worshipping the ground you walk on, Doll,” Brick said. The seriousness in his expression and anger in his voice made me smile. He really does love me .
“Well, that’s not the case. I had no clue that Maria was the type to let fame and money go to her head, but she definitely is.
To make matters worse, she has trust issues and refuses to hire an entire team, which meant that I quickly fell into every role that needed to be filled.
I’m her manager, agent, assistant, and therapist all wrapped into one.
She pays me well for my services, and because she’s the only thing on my resume post-college, I feel like I’m stuck with her. ”
We were both silent for a while.
“I’ve been feelin’ a lil stuck myself lately,” Brick finally said.
I glanced at him. “In your career?”
He nodded. “I make a lotta bread writing for artists, but the work is startin’ to feel soulless. I just got a check for writing a hit for a nigga I’on even respect. It don’t sit right with me, I can’t lie.”
I observed him silently. He was now staring blankly at the wall, and he looked deep in thought. After a while, I spoke up. “What would you like to be doin’ instead?”
He glanced at me. “I’on know what I would do if I wasn’t writin’. I love it.”
I nodded. “You just want it to matter again.”
His brow creased momentarily, and his head tilted as he continued to stare at me. Lightly, Brick grasped my waist and pulled me back down to his chest. I adjusted my body until it was flush against his, and he kissed me.
“That’s exactly it, Doll. I just want my shit to mean something, and not just because a label says it’s a hit. I miss writin’ real shit that felt like therapy, . . . like church.”
I lifted slightly and kissed his chin.
“That’s what ‘Sweetest Regret’ sounds like. Do you ever get to write things like that anymore?”
“All the time. They just don’t get released ’cause I don’t have anybody to give ’em to. Everybody is in the market for club hits nowadays. Niggas ain’t tryna hear what I gotta say.”
I sat up again and swung my legs over the side of the bed before hopping off it.
“Where the hell you goin’, Dy?” Brixton asked as I hurried out of the room.
“Hold on!” I called as I went back to the other bedroom where he had placed my bags.
I opened my carry-on suitcase and went straight to the bottom of it, retrieving the worn, black binder that I rarely went anywhere without.
Brushing a hand across it, I smiled a little before taking it back into Brick’s bedroom and climbing on the bed beside him.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I said, opening the binder. “But I take this thing with me anytime I’m leaving home for a while. Some people smoke, drink, or listen to music when they get in their feelings, but I read this. It always makes me feel better.”
I handed him the binder, and he started reading the first page. It only took a second for understanding to wash over his face.
“The fuck would I laugh for, Dy? You kept these because you love a nigga. That shit got me feelin’ good as hell.”
I chuckled but said nothing as he continued to flip through it. The binder was full of everything he ever wrote me from elementary school up until the day I moved away.
They were more like poetry—or songs —but he used to call them letters. The man always had a way with words, and he always used them to make my days better.
He continued flipping through the book until he made it to the back.
My heart fluttered as I watched him admire it.
There was a plastic page protector with a photo of us in it.
We were in front of the funnel cake booth at the town fair.
It was the only real date he ever took me on because my mother was hella strict.
It was actually more of a group outing with some of our friends, so my mother knew nothing about my fast tail trying to be romantic with my man.
Above the picture was the letter he gave me on our date. With his eyes on the page, he began reading it out loud.
“You smile like the sun knows your name , like light was made just to follow your face. When you laugh, the world feels warmer , like spring bloomed early just in case.
“I call you doll ’cause you’re too perfect not to—not just ’cause you’re pretty, though that’s real too. It’s the way you care and the way you dream, how you make small things feel brand new.
“I’on got much, just this pen and a heart that beats kinda fast when you get close. But I’d write you a sky full of stars if I thought you’d read it and know what I meant most.”
He looked up at me and spoke the last lines without reading.
“ For now , I’ma give you these words instead, while I carry the truth close to my chest. You make me wanna be better; you make silence feel like musi c, and I’on know what love is yet, but I swear—you might be it.”
He glanced at the page again.
“You know what’s crazy?” he asked, still looking at the paper.
“What?”
He chuckled. “This shit is terrible, but after you left me, I thought I wouldn’t write anything as good as this again. It wasn’t until I started writin’ about how much I missed you that I felt like I had something worth reading. I always wrote my best shit when I was writin’ about you.”
I bit down on my lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to swallow my face. This moment was supposed to be about him and his pen, not me wanting to jump his bones again .
Placing a hand on his bare chest, I said, “First of all, don’t call one of my favorite things in the whole world terrible.
Second, . . . Brick, you don’t have to give your words to anybody.
You were the best rapper on our block when we were coming up.
With all the connections you’ve made in the industry, I know people have recognized your talent.
I’m sure somebody out here is just waiting to sign you. ”
He chuckled. “Yeah, my man Siah thinks I should take my own music career seriously, but I ain’t for the spotlight, Doll. You know that.”
“I think you say that, but it’s only because you believe you’d be required to change something about yourself for the fame.
I think the world would love you , and putting your own stuff out there would make you happy.
No industry gimmicks, no filters, just Brick .
Even if you didn’t go the rap route, Brick, you could write a book.
Either way, your words should be out in the world, with your name on them. It’s only right.”
Silently, his eyes scanned the page a few more times before he replied in a low tone, “Maybe you’re on to somethin’, Doll.”
I smiled brightly. “I definitely am.”
“But you gotta take your own advice, though.”
I frowned. “What you mean?”
“You gotta do what makes you happy, too. Clearly, that’s not workin’ for Maria Striten. Maybe it’s time for both of us to find our way back to what we love.”
I bit my lip and frowned. With a voice I knew was filled with uncertainty, I asked, “You think so?”
He nodded. “I do.” He then closed the binder and placed it on the nightstand and pulled me to him before covering us both with the plush comforter.
“Take ya ass back to sleep. We’ll figure the rest out in a few hours.”
I closed my eyes and was surprised by how quickly I was able to relax. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, I felt that tomorrow might actually bring something good.