Time to Shine (15 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: Time to Shine
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“That sounds good. Especially the Oreos.”
Gia smiles as she pulls on her shoes. “I know, right?”
As Gia grabs her purse and opens the door, I say, “Gia . . .”
“What's up? You want me to bring back something else?”
I shake my head. “No. I want to say thank you.”
Her smile spreads even farther. “You're welcome, sister!”
15
I
can barely keep my eyes open as Dreya belts out the hook that I sent to Sam last night. Gia and I didn't go to bed until five this morning. Gia even missed her morning class, but she said that it was okay; she'd borrow Piper's notes later.
At any rate, I've only had a few hours of sleep, but I still made it to my studio session. And why would Evan decide to pick this one time to show up? Every time I nod off he looks at me like I'm crazy.
“Looks like Sunday needs to lay off the frat parties, huh?” Evan says as I drift off once more.
“I did my part,” I say as I wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth. “The song is written. The track is done. Dreya just has to sing it like she means it.”
“I am singing it like I mean it.”
Sam shakes his head. “No, you're not. This song is perfect for you. You think the entire world is hating on you, so this is your anthem.”
Dreya rolls her eyes. “Sometimes it feels like the entire world
is
hating on me.”
“That! That's it,” Big D says. “That attitude you just gave Sam. That's how you need to sing on this track. Take all that anger and get in the booth. We are about to do this right now.”
Dreya gives Big D a little grin and then follows his instructions. I'm so glad she's in the booth. That's one song down, and four more to go.
“Where did this song come from?” Evan asks. “I don't think I've heard it before.”
“You haven't,” I reply. “I just wrote it yesterday. Dreya is not satisfied with her track listing.”
“So we're spending more time and resources on a record that's already done?” Evan asks.
“I'm not charging her any extra for songs she doesn't use,” I say. “She wants her album to go number one on the week it's released.”
Evan shakes his head and sits down next to Big D. “I would love for her to have a number-one record, but Epsilon is pulling back the marketing dollars. She can have the best record in the country, but if no one knows about it, it won't go to number one.”
“Why would they pull back dollars now on this project? Bethany is near platinum, and we've got a collaboration on here with Sunday and Bethany. This record is set to be a moneymaker.”
“Y'all really don't know?” Evan asks. “Sunday, your girl Mystique is whispering in their ears over at Epsilon. They desperately want to sign her to another contract after this next record, and she's playing hardball. She doesn't want them putting any money behind Dreya's project.”
“She has that much power,” Sam says. “I've seen everyone in a room scramble when she comes in, even Zac. They all want to give her exactly what she wants.”
“Exactly,” Evan says. “And she blames Dreya for that fiasco at her wedding. I wish I hadn't told Dreya about Zac's love child. I feel like it's my fault.”
“You're the one who told her?” I ask. “Then it is your fault. And you need to fix it. How are you gonna make her record a number-one hit without any marketing money. You did it before Epsilon, now do it again.”
The guys all look at me with strange expressions, like they don't understand why I'm so passionate about this. But they don't know Dreya's plans like I know them. If she only could have a number-one record, she might not try to saddle herself with Evan's love child. She wants so badly to have fame and fortune that she's in desperation mode. I don't want her there. I want her to enjoy this thing instead of stressing over it.
Evan rubs his goatee and nods slowly. “We could . . . leak some of her tracks. The ones we're not planning to use. They're really good, and it could get people wanting to hear more music from her.”
“I don't like the idea of bootlegging my own music,” Sam says. “There just seems like there's something not right about that.”
I roll my eyes and laugh at Sam. He's got a sudden case of morality all of a sudden? Lying to his girlfriend and creeping in New York City didn't make it kick in, but uploading a few throwaway tracks has him up in arms. He needs to miss the entire world with that foolishness.
“The songs belong to us, so it's not bootlegging,” I say. “It's giving the fans a free gift. A gift that's gonna make them run out to buy Dreya's album on the day it's released.”
“And that's the gift that keeps on giving,” Evan says. “Because when they buy, y'all get paid.”
The gift that keeps on giving
. That's what Dreya called the baby she plans to have with Evan. This plan has got to work! My mom would agree, although Aunt Charlie would probably want Dreya to have the baby.
“What y'all talking about out there?” Dreya asks through the microphone. “Y'all on my time, so it better be about me.”
Evan smiles and presses the button to send his voice back to the booth. “We are talking about you. Your ears must be burning. We're talking about how to make you a star.”
“I'm already a star. Let's do this.”
Big D starts the track playing. Dreya closes her eyes and grabs the microphone like it's the last piece of chicken in the bucket and she hasn't eaten in days. This time, she sings the heck out of my song. She surprises me, really. I've never heard her sing this well.
Evan has a shocked, far-away expression on his face. That coupled with his wistful smile tells me that maybe he hasn't given up on Dreya, even if the heads of Epsilon Records have. This gives me a glimmer of hope that maybe my cousin can make her fortune on the mic and not by pushing a baby stroller.
After she's done singing, Sam gives Dreya a two-thumbs-up signal, and then speaks over the intercom. “That was hot, Drama. Come out here and listen to the playback. Rest your voice.”
Dreya sashays out of the recording booth looking more than proud. She locks eyes with Evan and he reaches for her to pull her into his arms. He kisses her nose and then her mouth, and she beams. Is she in love with him?
“You
did
that,” Evan says. “You sound like the queen of Reign Records up in this piece.”
I clear my throat and poke my lips out. She ain't the queen at all.
Sam laughs. “You 'bout to start something up in here, Evan. Sunday looking real twisted right now.”
“You're both queens,” Evan says. “Bethany too. That's why we're Reign Records. We're taking over and running this industry. Every other label is gonna have to bow down.”
“What about Mystique?” Dreya asks. “Is she gonna have to bow down too?”
“It's only a matter of time,” Evan says. “If I don't do anything else in this industry, I'm gonna make sure that diva kisses your ring.”
This causes Dreya to burst into a flurry of giggles. I don't join in on the laughter. I can't see myself at odds with my mentor, the one who gave me a career. This is not how I wanted this thing to turn out. Why can't we all be queens? Why does anyone have to bow down?
Sam walks over to the keyboard bench where I'm sitting, and he crowds my space by plopping down next to me. My first thought is that I should jump up and run to the other side of the room, but he smells so good. I know he's purposely wearing my favorite cologne, just to mess with me. I notice he's got a new tattoo on his neck. A tiny treble clef.
“You got a new tat,” I say. “Please don't tell me you're gonna be one of those dudes covered in ink.”
He stares at me with an intense gaze. No smile anywhere to be found. It makes me uncomfortable, and my heart races a little.
“Nah,” he finally replies. “I won't get covered with ink, but I do have one I think you'll like.”
He rolls up his shirt sleeve and shows me the writing on his (bulging) bicep. It says, in tiny script,
Muse
.
Muse? I am his muse . . . so he says. So is that supposed to be for me? I swallow even though my mouth is bone dry. I will not let him get to me.
“When did you get that?” I ask.
“The week before the Grammys.”
I don't comment on what I know it means. “Yep. You're already starting down that road. Next thing you'll have one of those Mike Tyson tats on your face.”
“It would be an improvement,” Dreya says. She high-fives me as we burst into laughter.
Big D says, “That was a straight-up hater move.”
“I got my cousin's back,” Dreya says. “Speaking of which, how did you like my present?”
“Um . . . thanks but no thanks. I don't need that.”
“Don't need what?” Evan asks.
“Nothing. It's between us,” Dreya says. “We're cousins. We're allowed to have secrets. Isn't that right, Sunday?”
Dreya winks at me to let me know that she's talking about
all
of our secrets, including her ridiculous baby-making plan. Guess I haven't convinced her yet that she doesn't need to do this.
I respond to Dreya's wink with a gigantic sigh and (my mom would be happy to hear this) a tiny, silent prayer.
16
“C
offee. Just a cup of coffee.” I close the IHOP menu and hand it to the waiter. After I got back in from the studio last night, Gia was up and ready to work on my paper with me. We worked all night long!
Gia, who is sitting across the table from me, frowns. “Is that all you're going to have for breakfast?”
“I'm too tired to eat,” I moan. “I just want to turn in this paper and go to bed for twenty-four hours. For real.”
“Why don't you do just that? After class you should just get some rest. Turn off your phone and go to sleep. Not for twenty-four hours though.”
Piper walks into the restaurant and slides into the booth next to Gia. “Did y'all order yet?”
Gia nods. “We just did. I got the strawberry crepes, but Sunday only got coffee.”
“Ewwww. You need a coffee detox. As soon as you finish Dreya's album, I think you should go on a raw diet with me.”
“Raw diet?” I ask.
“Yep. All of the foods will be in their natural state. We can do some juicing and soak oats in water for breakfast. We'll have raw granola and fruit for snacks.”
This sounds nasty. “No thank you, Piper. I know you mean well, but I am so not interested in doing that.”
“Suit yourself. When you start getting wrinkles and laugh lines you'll wish you'd listened to me.”
I laugh out loud. “Gia, will you tell this girl something? Black don't crack.”
“That is true, Piper. Black women age well. We don't start getting laugh lines and stuff until we're in our forties.”
Piper laughs and shakes her head. “Really? Well, enjoy your disgusting coffee then.”
“It's delicious. It's black gold,” I say.
But Piper isn't looking at me anymore. She's staring at the door of the restaurant with her mouth hanging open. I turn around in my seat to see where she's looking, and I see Meagan walk in the door with another girl and two guys.
“Oh, look,” Gia says. “Meagan is here. Wave her over so we can finally meet her boyfriend!”
“I-I . . .” Piper can't seem to open her mouth, so Gia waves her arms in the air.
“Meagan!” Gia yells. “Over here!”
Meagan smiles and waves. Then she grabs one of the guys' hand and walks over to the table. I guess that this is Linden, and he is fine! But, wait. Why is he looking at Piper like he's just seen a ghost?
“Hey, you guys!” Meagan says. “So finally, I guess I'll let you all meet my boyfriend, Linden. So . . . girls this is Linden, and Linden this is Gia, Piper, and Sunday, who I'm sure you already know from television.”
“When you introduced yourself to me,” Piper says, “you told me your name was James. And that everyone calls you L.J.”
“James is my middle name. And my friends back home call me L.J.”
Meagan has a confused look on her face. “L.J.? Your
boyfriend
L.J.?”
“Yes. It looks like we're sharing a Morehouse man.”
“Linden!” Meagan cries. “What is she talking about?”
“Meagan, babe, I can explain. I met both of you around the same time. I didn't know that she was your friend, and of course we weren't exclusive at first.”
Meagan snatches her hand away from Linden. “W-when did you find out?”
“Just last week. I've been trying to break it off with her ever since we decided to be exclusive.”
Piper cocks her head to one side angrily, and whips out her cell phone. “Is this how you break up with someone? You send them a text that says, ‘What are you wearing beautiful? Can't wait to see you.' That doesn't sound like breaking up to me. Does it sound like breaking up to you, Gia?”
Gia's eyes widen. I don't think she wants to get in this conversation, because she doesn't say anything.
“What you think, Sunday? Huh? Does that sound like breaking it off?”
I touch Piper's hand. “Piper, don't. Let's talk this out later, not here in public.”
“But he's right here, Sunday. We're all together. He won't let this happen again.” Piper has black eyeliner-tinted tears streaming down her face and the hand that I'm holding is shaking.
“So, you've been seeing her this whole time?” Meagan asks. I find it strange that she won't speak at all to Piper. She won't even look at her.
“Not really. I've been out with her a couple of times. Once I found out you were roommates, I wanted to let her down easy. I didn't want to come between the two of you.”
“Well, you were doing the right thing,” Meagan says. “Because now, I can't see myself being her roommate anymore. It'll be strange with me dating someone she obviously likes.”
“You're going to keep dating him?” Piper asks. “How could you?”
Meagan says, “We just got serious, Piper. I don't expect a guy to be exclusive until we're exclusive. And I'm not mad at you. You didn't know. But it won't really be fair to you for us to be roommates anymore. I'll talk to our resident advisor.”
Piper jumps up from the table and gets right in Meagan's face. “You would choose a guy over me. That is so like you.”
“Well, we really just met this year. It's not like we go way back or anything like that. We hardly know one another.”
Linden or James, or whatever the heck his name is, puts his hand around Meagan's waist and pulls her close. She tosses her straight hair over her shoulder and lets him kiss her bare neck.
“I'm so sorry you had to find out like this,” Linden says. “Sorry, Piper. I didn't mean to hurt you.”
Piper storms out of the restaurant, leaving the rest of us with the uncomfortable situation.
“That was crazy,” Meagan says echoing my thoughts. “Come on, Linden. I'm starved, and we've left our other friends waiting.”
I watch in shock as Linden and Meagan walk away . . . hand in hand.
“What just happened?” Gia asks me.
“I have no idea. I was just about to ask you that.”
Gia looks behind her at Meagan laughing and joking with the Gamma Phi Gamma crew. “So, she's okay with this?”
“She's probably just keeping her cool,” I say. “I'm sure she just wants to confront him in private.”
But then, Meagan shoots that theory totally out of the water by throwing her arms around Linden's neck and kissing him sweetly on the cheek.
“Yep. She's confronting him all right,” Gia says.
“We should go after Piper and make sure she's all right.” I stand up from the table and don't wait for Gia to answer. It's not even necessary, because I already know she's going to follow.
On our way out of the restaurant, Meagan calls to us. “I'll drop by your room later, okay?”
“I think we'll already have company, Meagan,” I say. “Maybe you should keep hanging with your future sorors.”
“We're hoping that you too will consider Gamma Phi Gamma,” Peony, head of the Gamma clique says.
“I hadn't really considered it. Don't know if I'm the sorority type.”
Peony lets out a shrill giggle. “Every girl is the sorority type. They either get chosen or they don't.”
My only response to this is a half-smile. Gia says nothing at all either, and we leave IHOP together.
“You still thinking about pledging Gamma Phi Gamma?” I ask Gia as we get into the car.
“Nope. I think we should start our own sorority.”
“What would we call it?”
“Beta Kappa Fly!”
“That's what's up!” I say with a laugh. “Let's go find our other soror before she gets another tattoo, or busts some windows out of somebody's car.”
Gia and I burst into laughter, trying to laugh really hard about something that's not funny at all. I haven't forgotten how my girls sat up all night long with me when I had a broken heart over Sam. Now it's time for me to repay the favor.

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