A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles (4 page)

“I tell you what, I bet I’ll be a better mother to you than she was. Melissa, you can stay with us as long as you want, baby. Fuck your fake-ass mother.”

“Thank you so much,” I replied, feeling a sense of joy running
through every inch of my body. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a blessing in disguise. I had always asked God to make my mother more down-to-earth like Mrs. Tarsha. At times, I had flat-out asked God why Mrs. Tarsha wasn’t my mother, and now I would actually get the chance to live with her. With my parents off my back and out of my business, nothing can stop me from accomplishing my goal of being a big star. I have the talent, an excellent manager, and now the freedom. Goodbye and so long choir rehearsal. Melissa James is on her way to Hollywood!

Now that all the secrets were finally out of the bag, I was free to go after my music career full force. I began to do things that I had always wanted to do, like join the hip-hop dance class at school. The majority of R&B singers are also dancers, so I made it my business to learn the fundamentals of choreography. I also went full steam ahead with my writing. I wrote at least one song per day for the group, and with Shawn still pushing us tracks, our album was done in no time. Mrs. Tarsha and her husband began to shop our demo around like crackheads selling a hot TV. Pretty in Pink soon became very popular in Pennsylvania and many surrounding states. Our songs were even playing on all the local radio stations, and for the first time in my life, my dreams were within my reach.

Mrs. Tarsha’s only rule in the house was “Thou shall not steal.” As long as you didn’t steal from her pocketbook or closet, she pretty much turned a blind eye to everything else and did her own thing. Half the time, she wasn’t even home. Although I had lost my virginity before I moved in, I had many first-time experiences while living in that house. I had my first threesome and then some with Jasmine’s two brothers, Dylan and Michael. Shit, I had my first bisexual experience with Jasmine, which might I add was very hot. That girl taught me things that I never knew existed. I was still sleeping with Shawn, but with Jasmine joining in; he pretty much took care of all my production and financial needs.
My list of sexual partners soon climbed into the double digits. It was more about rebelling against my parents than anything. I had my first, second, and third abortions, and probably would have been on my fourth if someone hadn’t put me on to birth control pills. I didn’t know what to do with my newfound freedom, so I chose to do it all. I was certainly living a life that would have caused my parents to die of shame if they found out about it. The way I looked at it was, if they hadn’t put me out, I would still have had a drop of innocence somewhere left in my body. But as you can see, my innocence became nonexistent after moving in with Jasmine.

Before I knew it, two years had passed and I was still on my grind. I graduated from high school and enrolled in “Fuck ’Em University.” Rather than attend college, I continued to focus on my music career. I even saved up some money Shawn gave me and bought a little Honda. It was nothing fancy, but it got me where I wanted to go, and for once in my life I felt like an adult.

Mrs. Tarsha and her husband, George, walked into the studio one night on cloud nine and told everyone to gather in the waiting room area. I was wondering what the hell was going on because they were very excited and pumped up. After Tiffany, Jasmine, and I walked in and sat down she said, “Girls, I have some news that’s going to knock your socks off. As you know, I’ve been shopping your demos like crazy and it finally paid off. Next week we’re flying out to New York to meet with some A&R executives from Sony Music Group.”

I was hearing her words in real time but it took a minute for them to register in my brain. Did she just say that we were going to New York to meet A&Rs from Sony? Oh, my God, is it finally going to happen for me? All my hard work and sacrifice were finally going to pay off. We were all so happy that night. I remember us just hugging each other and falling to the floor with tears in our eyes. It was a feeling I’ll always remember.

Then Mrs. Tarsha said, “There have to be some changes made before we meet with them next week, though. You girls have to get your styles together and make some minor adjustments to the album.”

She then went into details of all the changes, which I found very interesting. Right away, when she discussed the direction she wanted us to go in regard to our looks, I noticed that Tiffany and I were going to have average styles while Jasmine’s sounded flashy and hot. “Melissa and Tiffany, we’re going to give you both new looks. I think you both need to cut your hair and rock nice short hairdos. Jasmine, I think you would look nice wearing something more dramatic, like a full lace-front weave down your back. That would be hot!” I stood there not saying a word but I had a lot to say. Next she was removing songs from the CD that featured all of us and adding songs where Jasmine sang a majority of the leads. Then she dropped a bomb on us, saying that the group’s name would change from Pretty in Pink to Jazzy Girls. “Pretty in Pink sounds too innocent, and I want you girls to target a more mature audience. Jazzy Girls sounds better, and will grab much more attention!”

The more she talked, the more I heard Jasmine’s name being mentioned and ours being taken away. She even said that we had a photo shoot in the morning and told us that the CD cover was being changed. And, as you might have guessed, she stressed that we were going to take many pictures with Jasmine standing in the middle because it would look better for the group
“heightwise.”
“Jasmine needs to stand in the middle when you guys are taking pictures because it looks better when everyone is positioned according to their height.” I was thinking, how could it look better for the group heightwise when I was taller than the other two girls? So it made perfect sense for me to be in the middle if anything.

“Oh, and by the way, Melissa, Jasmine is going to share some
of the writing credits with you because I want them to see that you can all write.” What the fuck? If that’s the case, then why wasn’t she adding Tiffany to the credits too? I wrote every song that we recorded all by myself, and I didn’t see why I should share my writer’s credits with someone who couldn’t write a decent song to save her fucking life. Not only did I write every song, but I also did our background vocals because I had the strongest voice. Without me, this group wouldn’t have taken its music to the level where it was, and I didn’t think these changes were fair. I didn’t want to cut my hair, and I didn’t want to share my writer’s credits.

I looked over at the other girls and Jasmine had this huge smile on her face. Of course she would be happy as shit; the ball was in her corner. Tiffany, however, looked tense and uneasy, just like I was feeling, but she had this awkward half smile on her face. I could tell she was faking being happy, and I for one wasn’t going to do that. I haven’t spoken to my parents in two years just to get an opportunity like this, and I wasn’t going to let Jasmine and her mother take it away from me.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Tarsha, can I talk to you in private?” I politely asked.

“No, you can talk to me right here in front of everyone, if it’s in regard to the group.” She was instantly on the defensive and I suspected that she knew exactly what I wanted to talk about.

“I was wondering why we have to change anything. If they like us enough to fly us out to New York, then they must like what they see. I don’t want to cut my hair, and I don’t have a problem with helping anyone out, but if Jasmine wants writer’s credits, then she should write some songs. I put in hard work writing, arranging, and recording all these songs, and I don’t think it’s fair that Jasmine gets to take credit for them.”

“Is that correct?” she casually asked while looking over at her husband. “You feel that I’m being unfair, huh?”

“Well, sort of,” I replied.

“Was I being unfair when I allowed you to join the group? Was I being unfair when I bought your clothes for the shows? Or better yet, was I being unfair when I took you in when you had nowhere to live? Let me tell you something, Melissa, you need to kiss the ground that not only I but my daughter walk on. If it wasn’t for us, you would be out on the street somewhere.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Mrs. Tarsha had this evil look on her face that I’d never seen before. “You know, I figured you’d do something like this. That’s why I covered my ass from the start.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She smiled as she looked over at Jasmine and her husband, who both had big grins on their faces. Mr. George then opened his briefcase, pulled out some papers that I had signed years ago, and handed me a copy. “That’s what I mean, little girl. You’re under a seven-year contract with me, and it basically says that I own rights to every song, which means that I can make any changes that I deem fit. You were paid for hire, and have no rights or claims to anything over here.”

“But I wrote everything and recorded the majority of the leads and background vocals. Shawn gave those tracks to me, not the group. You haven’t paid for anything in over three years except studio time. Why would you make me sign something like that? I would never have signed that if I knew what it meant.”

“Well, you should have had a lawyer look it over before you signed it,” Mrs. Tarsha said.

“But Mr. George is our lawyer, and when he explained the contract to me, he didn’t say anything about me signing over my rights. You knew what you were doing all along, didn’t you? You all used me to get a deal because you knew you wouldn’t get one without me. That’s why y’all insisted that I lie to my parents every day. That’s some fucked-up shady shit!”

Jasmine pushed her mother out of the way and forcefully jumped into my face. “Wait a minute, bitch, you can’t talk to my
mother like that!” I was amazed at how fast she turned on me. We were just in here recording and having fun and now that she saw that money was involved, she called me “bitch” like I was just going to take it? Forget that. I wasn’t taking this lying down.

“
Bitch
, I’m going to talk to you and your conniving mother any fucking way I please, because y’all are trying to rob me, and that’s not going to fly with me. I’m going to take you to court.”

“Well, we’ll be ready for that,” Mr. George said. “It’s going to cost you thousands of dollars that you don’t have just to draw up a case against us, and with this contract you signed, you might as well save yourself the time and money.”

“Then I refuse to be in this group. Let’s see what you’re going to do now. Who’s going to write and record the lead and background vocals from now on, huh?”

Again, the family began to laugh at me like I was doing stand-up comedy or something. “Well, we thought about this day coming, so we had a girl practicing every song that you recorded just in case you walked out of the group. As a matter of fact, it’s my niece Lisa, who’s more than ready to join Jazzy Girls, so you can leave the group tonight. And please leave our house as well.”

“With pleasure!” I yelled. “Fuck you all. You can have those stupid songs. I can write a million more, fifty times better. I’ll do my own solo thing, and when I make it, I’m going to tell the world about you bitches.” The only thing I heard was laughter as I stormed out. They were laughing at me!

I left the studio and headed over to Shawn’s house to tell him what had happened, but when I got there he had already heard Jasmine’s side of the story. They had called him and told him everything, and I mean
everything
! She told him about me having sex with her brothers and his homeboy Trey. She told him about the abortions that I had because I didn’t know who the fathers were. Shawn didn’t even open the door for me. He simply yelled through it and told me to get the fuck off his porch before he shot me. I
couldn’t believe this shit was happening to me tonight. Shawn was the only person besides Mrs. Tarsha whom I could turn to, and now I had neither one in my corner.

I drove back to Jasmine’s house to get my things, but when I pulled up I noticed my clothes and undergarments hanging on a post. The bitches had thrown everything I owned up and down the block. I wanted to kill them all but I was alone and knew it was a battle I couldn’t win so, humiliated, I got out of my car and retrieved my belongings, most of which were cut up and bleached. Why was this happening to me? What was I going to do from here on? I had no one to turn to. I was alone and homeless again. All I had was this unreliable car, the clothes on my back, and $300. My only valuable possession was my God-given talent and a dream of being successful, and I knew I had to use them both to survive.

I couldn’t let life get the best of me because I’ve sacrificed enough.
I may not be where I want to be right now, but I won’t sit here for long. There’s nothing in Pennsylvania for me anymore, and I knew exactly where I needed to go
. I packed everything I owned into the back of my car, even the cut-up and bleached clothes, and set out on a do-or-die road trip. God forbid my car got stolen or towed because everything in my whole life was in it. I had made this promise to Jasmine years ago, and I’m a woman of my word. Since Pennsylvania was not working out for me, I now have to make moves. Atlanta, Georgia, I sure hope you’re ready for Melissa James, because I’m on my way and I’m coming full force!

I
drove on I-95 for hours with my mind completely filled with thoughts of uncertainty. It was frightening to drive into an unknown
future, and I felt like, no matter how long I drove, I would never reach my destination simply because I had none. I didn’t have anywhere to go, no one to call, and nothing to look forward to. My family was gone, my friends were gone, and worst of all, my music and hard work were back in Pennsylvania with Pretty in Pink, which I bet by now had changed its name to Jazzy Girls. Most of my clothes were wrecked and drenched in bleach to the point that I had to wind my window down to avoid passing out from the strong fumes that filled my car, but they were all I had, so I couldn’t afford to throw them away. I was starving but wouldn’t even buy a value meal from McDonald’s because I needed to save my money for a rainy day, which could be anytime soon. I was living like a bum on the street, and for the first time in my life, I was completely alone with no one to turn to.