Read Drama 99 FM Online

Authors: Janine A. Morris

Drama 99 FM (18 page)

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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“I know. The Cîroc and lemonade is pretty damn good, if I must say so myself,” Madison said.
“Yeah, they have this Cîroc and strawberry juice drink. The waitress brought me two of those, and I downed them in, like, four gulps. I am definitely taking a cab home,” Tamika said.
Tamika had used to work at Drama 99, and she and Madison were pretty cool. She had left to get a marketing position at Bad Boy, but they had remained in touch and known each other for at least seven years. The industry was like a revolving door, people coming and going year after year. To have a friend for years was always something to be cherished in the music business. It was a cutthroat field—people were all about what you could do for them. Tamika was one of Madison's colleagues who Madison felt was a good friend, for real.
“Well, if you're leaving, I'm leaving, too,” Madison said. “I thought we were going by Cafeteria after this.”
“We can still go, I just don't want to stay here much longer. But no rush,” Tamika said.
“Did you guys notice Corey Cox?” Cathy asked out of the blue.
“Yeah, he did an interview at the station. He's a nice guy,” Madison said.
“Yes, he
is
a cutie,” Cathy said.
Madison and Tamika looked at her, shocked that she would say that. Cathy was an older white woman, and Corey was a younger black man. They just didn't think Corey would be her cup of tea.
“I love the Knicks, what can I say?” Cathy said when she noticed their surprised looks.
“Yeah, he's here with his assistant,” Madison said. “Nice guy.”
“His assistant—yeah, OK. We both know what that means,” Cathy added.
“Yeah. She's assisting him, alright. Assisting him on her knees,” Tamika said.
Madison and Cathy laughed at Tamika's comments. They knew it wasn't right to talk about folks, but everyone knew that was what these parties were all about. They were marketed as networking events, but very little networking was done. People usually ended up with people they already knew, and entry-level staff were too afraid to approach the business executives. As a result, the networking was minimal; people were too cool to look eager or ask someone for something. So these events usually ended up being about showing off status and getting gossip about who was with whom and who had left with whom. Industry events served very little purpose most times—that was why Madison didn't attend many. This one was cool, though, because she got to be sexy, and she enjoyed the free Cîroc.
After about three or four more generic conversations, Madison began to feel as though she had done her time. Cathy had gone to the bar to get another fruity Cîroc concoction, and Tamika was a few feet away talking to a VJ from Fuse. The room was still pretty filled; plenty of people had shown up since Madison had arrived. She could tell that the evening was nowhere near over, and the loft hadn't seen all its guests for the night just yet. Still, she was ready to call it a night—she still had to work in the morning, and she felt as though a true VIP should know to come late and leave early. She walked across the room to the other side of the floor, figuring she would finish the last few sips of her drink, place it by the bar, and then signal for Tamika to leave with her.
She leaned against the wall and fiddled with her straw. She knew it wouldn't be long before someone came over to talk with her—everyone wanted a chance to speak with a woman of her influence if they could get a moment alone. Realizing that she might get cornered by someone she really didn't want to talk to, she began to slowly roam along the wall. There were three big gentlemen standing a few steps away, so instead of walking around them, she decided to just take her last few sips there. Just as she lifted her head from her glass, she felt someone bump into her. When she turned around, it was one of the gentlemen in the group.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Excuse me,” she said as she reached out her arm to gain some room between them. Just as she stepped away, she recognized one of the other gentlemen in the group. Her head leaned to the side as she tried to register his face and remember where she knew him from. By the time the memory hit her, Polytics had stepped in front of him and was walking toward her. Just as she grasped that Polytics was coming, she also realized that the three gentlemen were his bodyguards.
“What's up?” he said.
“Hey there, Poly,” she said.
“Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?”
“Uh . . . I didn't know I had to check in with you,” she said.
“Oh, you being a smart ass, I see,” he replied.
“You know, I don't know where we crossed paths, but you seem to have some things twisted.”
“No, I think you have some things twisted. As I told you the other day, I am no little boy,” Polytics said.
His voice was raised by this time; people had turned around to look to see what was going on. As though his presence didn't draw enough attention, the sound of his raised voice and the sight of his angry face were not helping at all.
“Would you calm the hell down?” she said.
“No, I am tired of you trying to fucking play me,” he said.
Madison was in shock once again. She realized she might have a bona fide psycho on her hands. Who in a million years would've thought a street dude like himself, with this shiny new music career, would act like this? Madison was hoping to avoid a scene and turned to walk away. As she took a step, she felt a large, strong hand grab her arm. She tried to yank it free, but the grip was tighter than she thought. She turned around to see the look in his eyes, and she discreetly asked for the removal of his hand from her arm.
“Yo, come with me downstairs before you make me show my ass in here,” he said.
She looked at him, and he bucked his eyes back at her to send his message to her that he wasn't playing. Madison knew that if she did not comply, there was a very high possibility that he would only behave worse and embarrass the hell out of her. “I am not being escorted out of here. Let go of my arm, and I will walk with you,” she said.
He let go of her arm, and she began to walk. She glanced over her shoulder, and he was a step behind. From what she could tell, the security guards were only a few steps behind him, and although the five of them exiting at the same time seemed to be attracting all the eyes in that area of the loft, she preferred that the security and others would come with them. She was also kind of hoping that Tamika was close enough to see her leaving with him and would tag along, but for some reason she reached the elevator, and neither Cathy nor Tamika came running up to her asking where she was going. She was heavily contemplating each of her moves, and she quickly decided that trying to get Cathy or Tamika would only incite Polytics to say or do something stupid. She wanted to curse him out, but she couldn't afford to do it in that room with all those people watching. It was bad enough there would be rumors surfacing from the little scene he had caused; she wasn't trying to make it worse.
The elevator held just the five of them as they went down. The elevator operator stood stuffed in the corner, trying to squeeze in with these muscular men; he had asked one of them to stay behind when they were all getting on, but they had refused. Madison stood a few feet away from Polytics, from this artist who had seemed so charismatic and respectable in his music videos and in the public eye, but, as she was realizing, was not quite mentally stable.
The elevator doors opened, and they were back on the lobby floor. This time it wasn't as crowded as when Madison had arrived. They all trickled into the lobby. A few cameras went off—seemed to be some Web-site photographers and possibly some press. Madison couldn't tell at all because her main goal was trying not to be in the shot. Polytics didn't seem to realize that leaving the party with the program director of Drama 99 FM would make for a good news story on AllHipHop.com.
Once they made it outside, Polytics's Suburban was parked right in front. As much as Madison didn't want to be with him, she was happy to get in the truck, knowing no one could see them any longer or take any more pictures. They got in, and two of the security guards went to the Suburban across the street; one got in their front seat. Madison and Polytics were in the backseat.
“You just love drawing attention to yourself, don't you?” she asked.
Pow!
He suddenly smacked the shit out of her. Madison's head swung around. She instantly touched her face and looked at him, shocked. Her mouth was dropped open, and no words would come out.
“You got me twisted,” he said. “I am not one of these little artists that you play puppet with. I know who you are and what you do, but at the end of the day we are both not untouchable. You are not going to disrespect me as a man,” he said.
Madison sat quiet. She had never been hit by a man before, and she had no desire to be hit again. When she faced forward, the driver and security guard were faced forward as well, bopping along to the music on the stereo as they drove, or at least they were pretending to.
“So you not going to say anything?” he said.
“What do you want me to say, Clarence? I obviously don't know you very well, and to be quite honest, I don't know what to say to you.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It just means that I don't know what you want from me!” she said. She was hoping he couldn't hear the fear in her voice and think he should continue to intimidate her, but she was scared to death and knew it was probably obvious.
“All I want from you is your respect, Madison,” he said.
Madison couldn't help but think how he must be truly crazy; she wondered if he had a real psychological problem. She couldn't imagine that she had got caught up with the one deranged rapper in New York. What kind of luck was that?
“I respect you,” she said.
“When I met you, I wasn't flirting with you so you could play my record. I was really digging you,” he said.
“I understand,” she said.
“When we had sex in your office, I didn't want that to be the end of us. That was not all I wanted from you. I could get sex anywhere,” he said.
“I understand.”
“Stop saying you understand, yo! Say what you feel,” he said.
She could tell he was becoming a bit flustered. “Clarence, I am going to be honest with you. I have never slept with an artist before while I was in this position at the station. You were the first. It was something I did without thinking. You were attractive, and there was something about you I was feeling. I wasn't trying to play you, but I realized that if anyone found out about you and me, it could cost me my job and my relationship,” she said.
“Relationship?” he asked. “You never told me you were in a relationship.”
“Clarence, we barely had a chance to talk about our personal lives. I don't know, I assumed you had a girlfriend, too.”
“Well, I don't. I am single, and that's why I thought it was possible that things didn't have to end after that one night.”
“My man and I have been having a lot of problems—to be honest, I haven't been that happy with him. I wasn't trying to play you. You were definitely what I wanted and needed at that time. However, as flattered as I am that you wanted to be with me, even if I were single, due to my job, it wouldn't work,” she said.
“I could take care of both of us. My money is right,” he said.
“That's nice of you, Clarence, but it's not that simple.”
Madison had almost forgotten for a second that she had a red, throbbing cheek. Just hearing him open up and finally listen to what she was saying without going postal was alluring to her. She felt her phone vibrate through her purse. She pulled the bag open, flipped her phone over, and saw it was Tamika calling. She knew now wasn't the time to answer.
“Yeah, well. It can be worked out if you want it to be,” he said.
He sounded like a ten-year-old boy. She knew he was younger than her, but she never would have thought he would be the one catching feelings. It was sweet, she had to admit, but his dose of psycho behavior dampened all his charm. Hoping to keep him calm and not feeling “disrespected as a man,” Madison thought it was best to just keep the conversation at this level. She didn't want to seek an apology for his violence and invoke another outburst, and she didn't want to sound as if she weren't open to options and possibly upset him.
“I will think it through, Clarence, and we will talk about it next week, I promise. I just need some time to think about all this,” she said. “For now, can you just drop me up the street on Fourteenth? I am supposed to meet a friend.”
“Why can't I come? It's a guy friend?” he asked.
“No, it's a girl. I was at that party with her, but I left without her to talk to you,” she said.
He looked at her and then sat up and leaned forward.
BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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