33
EPSILON RECORDING ARTIST DRAMA GETS BEAT-DOWN IN THE HOOD
(pictures inside).
I blink rapidly as I read the
Mediatakeout.com
headline. I'm afraid to click the link. How could they have pictures? Who would do that?
But curiosity gets the best of me and I do click the link. The picture is bad. It's really, really bad. It had to have been taken right after those girls jumped on Dreya. And the only place she went was to the police station.
The story reads:
Epsilon Recording artist Drama was jacked outside her Atlanta apartment two weeks ago. Snitches say that it is related to her ongoing beef with ex-boyfriend Truth, who was dropped from Epsilon Records after one album releaseâ for mysterious reasons. The pictures were sent to us from an anonymous e-mail account with a message for Drama.
Epsilon money can't protect you every day of your life. Watch your back, Drama. . . . We coming for you.
If anyone has any information on the goons that did this to one of our favorite new artists, please call the Atlanta police department. And we're praying for you, Ma!
Before I can read the article a second time my cell phone rings.
“Hello.”
“Did you see it?” It's Mystique.
“Yeah, I saw it. It's bad. Dreya looks a mess in that picture.”
Mystique says, “I know. She's gonna have a coronary.”
“What should she do? Should she respond? Should she stay quiet? And what about the threat? Do you think that's real?” I ask a flurry of questions that suddenly occur to me.
“I think the threat is fake,” Mystique says. “No matter how mad Truth is, he knows he can't mess up in the industry. There could be a lot of reasons why he got dropped from Epsilon. Nobody knows it's because Zac requested it.”
“Zac got him dropped? Wow. I didn't know he liked Dreya all that much.”
Mystique says, “I think it was more about Dilly than Dreya. He thinks that Dilly can go far, but that Epsilon needs to put more money behind him. Plus, Truth's album sales were just okay. The only hit song on the record was the one with your hook. It had a lukewarm response.”
“So, just like that? One bad album release and you're out the door?”
“Yeah, Sunday. You didn't know? You're only as hot as your next project. If your first project sucks, then there won't be a number two. It's called a one-hit wonder.”
“That's messed up.”
“But you don't have to worry about that.”
“Really? Why don't I?”
“Your SoundScan numbers for your first-week sales were 578,000. You went gold your first week! And your album debuted at number three on the
Billboard
pop chart!”
I almost drop the phone! “Get the heck out of here! So, I'm a millionaire!”
“Pretty much, baby! Welcome to the club!”
My mother and her prayers are like a powerful weapon. I mean, she carries those prayers around with her like the stuff Batman carries in that little fanny pack around his waist! She's prayed up a gold record and over a half million records sold!
OMG.
“Sunday! Are you there?” Mystique says.
“I'm here! I am. I just can't believe this is happening. Every time something new comes up, I just can't believe it!”
Mystique giggles. “You better start believing it, girl! I told you that you are more than a one-hit wonder. You're set to be an icon!”
This makes me think of the future. A future of living a fabulous life! A future of getting my mother off of her job, out of this neighborhood, and into a gated community. A future of my little cousin Manny going to private schools and getting the best education his little grown self can handle.
But there's no way I can visualize the future without putting Sam in the picture!
34
“I
can't believe it's finally here! My first day of college.” I'm having a confessional right on the Spelman campus. There's a whole camera crew and not just our regular camera dude. I think they want to get a lot of shots of the school and students, to make this episode really pro-education.
“It's ironic, because I wouldn't even be in this music industry thing if it wasn't for me trying to get to college. And now, I'm finally here.”
“How are you feeling about Sam not being here in ATL with you?” the producer asks.
“Well, it's hard not having my best friend here with me. We were planning to have a lot of fun off-campus. But he's getting his grind on, and I can't hate him for that. It's all about the come up.”
The camera crew follows me as I try to make heads or tails of this campus map. My mom was going to take off work to come with me, but she has a fear of being on TV. She thinks that the TV makes her look fatter than she really is. I keep telling her that all those pots of spaghetti are making her look fatter, but anyway.
I'm staying in the Stewart Living & Learning Center! It's the only residence hall with upperclassmen too. And it's for all of us extra-smart honors students. Score!
“Here it is!” I say out loud although I'm not talking to anyone in particular.
The other girls on campus are staring at me, or maybe at the crew of cameramen that are following me. This is gonna be a little bit weird, I think. But as soon as I'm able to ditch the cameras, I think it'll be easier.
I walk into the residence hall and find my room, which is on the second floor. It's a double-occupancy room, so I get a roommate! I'm looking forward to this. I hope she'll be cool, smart, and funny, and I hope she doesn't mind having to share a room with a pop star.
I use my key card to open the door, and I squeal at how the room has been decorated. There's not a stitch of Ikea furniture in here! This is all top of the line. My bed has a huge purple comforter with fringes and white pom poms. It's totally something my mom would've picked for me, even though I'm not a girly girl.
My roommate is here too. She's looking me up and down with a little smile on her face.
“Are you kidding me? I got the reality star?” she says.
It takes a half second for me to realize that she's kidding, and we both burst into laughter. “Hi, I'm Sunday Tolliver,” I say.
“Well everyone knows who you are! I'm Gia Stokes. Nice to meet you.”
Gia looks like she's gonna be a buttload of fun. She's got this huge afro with a butterfly clip holding it up on the side. She's super tall and thinâmodel thin. And even though she doesn't have on a stitch of makeup she looks camera ready.
She's gorgeous. I hate her! Just kidding.
“I guess having an interior designer is one of the perks of having a star for a roommate. Are there any other ones?” Gia asks. She motions to the cameras. “Are
they
one of the perks?”
I laugh out loud. “No. They'll be gone after today.”
“Cool, cool. Well, I'll let you settle in. Do you want something to eat? I'm going to grab something from Jack in the Crack.”
“Sure! A burger would be great.”
I watch Gia sashay past the cameras with her heeled sandals on. Strut, girl! But then she stumbles and nearly falls. She catches herself, and then turns to look at the cameraman.
“Make sure that doesn't wind up on TV. I'm trying to preserve my pretty-girl swag.”
I crack up laughing. This chick is hilarious! I already can tell we are going to be great friends. She leaves the room and closes the door behind her.
Then two seconds later, she pops her head back in. “Spelman, baby!” she yells.
This makes me burst into a full-on belly laugh. Yeah, this year is gonna be great. College is so going to rock. And I'm doin' it big-money, college-pimpin' style!
Spelman, baby!
Don't miss Nikki Carter's
All the Wrong Moves
,
available now wherever books are sold!
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“C
ome on, Sunday. Give it your all. I know you can push this song out.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Maybe it's the fact that I'm recording my very first single on my very first album that's got me totally twisted.
Maybe it's the fact that mega-super R & B star Mystique is producing the song and is my mentor! Her words of encouragement are not helping, even though she has a smile on her face.
Mystique continues, “Sunday, I know you've got it in you. I've heard you sing the mess out of this song. Do you need me to leave?”
I shake my head no.
“Do you want me to come in the booth with you?”
I cock my head to one side and shrug. I don't know if that will help, but at this point I'm willing to try anything because I'm tired, hungry, and thirsty.
Sam, the recording engineer and my sort-of crush says over the microphone, “I'm taking a break. Y'all let me know when you're ready.”
I feel the tension leave my body when Sam walks out of the recording room. Oh no! That's it! Sam is the reason I can't get this song right.
“Talk to me, mama,” Mystique says as she steps into the tiny recording booth. “You seem a little stressed today.”
I play with my ponytail nervously. “I-I don't know what it is.”
Mystique smiles. “I think you know what it is, and you don't want to tell me.”
“Okay . . . maybe you're right.”
“Does it have anything to do with that video on YouTube?”
I sigh at the thought of that video. It was the night of rapper Truth's release party at Club Pyramids, here in Atlanta. It was a hot mess of an evening.
Sam was pissed because I wouldn't be his “official girl,” so he was tripping and dancing all crazy on some groupie chicks. Truth, who goes out with my cousin Dreya, took that as his opportunity to push up on me yet again, even though I'd told him no a hundred times. But since Sam was acting a fool with the groupies, I acted an even bigger fool and danced with Truth, knowing that Sam would flip the heck out.
And he definitely flipped out.
He bloodied Truth's face up right before his show, and although the concert went on, the fight was the biggest news of the night. Somebody had used the video camera on his phone to capture the whole thing.
It was on YouTube before we even got home that night.
Ever since then, I've been trying to make it up to Sam. We're supposed to be going to prom together, but it's in three weeks and Sam still isn't speaking to me.
“I guess it has a little bit to do with the video,” I admit to Mystique.
“Listen. You guys can't let that stuff get to you. If I got upset about everything that's on the Internet about me and my man, I'd never get any sleep.”
“Yeah, but the blogs only have rumors about you! They don't have anything concrete. They've got video of me.”
Mystique places a hand on my arm. “It's just your first lesson in being in the limelight. Just remember that someone is always watching.”
“That's the problem! I don't know if I want that! I just want to be a normal teenager.”
“There are pros and cons to being a celebrity. But I wouldn't trade it for anything, Sunday! I've traveled the world, met the president, and I have millions of fans who care about me. Do you know I got three hundred thousand birthday cards?”
I laugh out loud. “Wow! Really?”
“Yes. And you'll have the same thing. You're so talented, and I know you can do this.”
“But this song . . . it's about a girl having a crush on a guy. It's just hard to do with Sam out there mean mugging me.”
“Yeah, guys have pretty fragile egos. He's just hurt right now, I guess.”
“But why the double standard? I didn't trip about his groupie chicks.”
Mystique chuckles. “From what I heard you did trip! You danced with Truth? Girl, you know that was messy.”
“It was messy, wasn't it?”
“Just talk to Sam. Admit you were wrong, and then maybe y'all can get back to being friends again.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, but I need you to do it quickly, so we can record this single.”
Sam walks back into the studio and says over the mic, “You ready, Sunday?”
I glance at Mystique, and she nods. “Sam, I need to make a phone call. Can you hold on a sec?” she asks.
She winks at me on the way out of the booth and mouths, “Talk to him.”
I bite my lip as I try to get up the courage to talk to Sam. He seems to be deep in thought as he plays what sounds like random notes on the keyboard. I know him, though, so it's not random. He's got a melody in his head.
I step out of the booth and ask, “Working on something new?”
“What? Oh, naw. Not feeling inspired too much.”
“Lost your muse?” I ask.
That was an inside joke, but Sam doesn't laugh. We worked so well together writing the songs on Dreya's album that he'd started calling me his muse.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replies.
I clear my throat, trying to think of a way to start this conversation. “Y'all video got twenty thousand hits on YouTube.”
Sam gives me a crazy look. Why in the world did I say that? OMG! Open mouth and insert foot.
“Twenty thousand people saw me puttin' work in on Truth. Sweet.”
“You're such a guy.”
“Yeah. I am.”
“You did kinda put a beat-down on him, though.”
Sam frowns. “Wish I hadn't done it, though. It wasn't worth it.”
“I wasn't worth fighting for?” I ask. “Wow.”
“Well, why should I be fighting over a girl who doesn't want to be with me? That doesn't make a lot of sense.”
“Sam, I never said I didn't want to be your girl.”
“You never said you did.”
This conversation is going in circles. “So, are we not friends anymore now? 'Cause I still want us to be friends, Sam.”
“I guess we can be friends, but you're gonna have to give me a while to get over the whole thing with Truth. When I see him, I just want to punch him again.”
“You can't do that! I need . . . I mean we need you on the tour.”
“Y'all don't need me. I'm the studio engineer and producer. I can stay here over the summer.”
I touch Sam's shoulder and feel him flinch. “Sam, can you imagine how crazy that's gonna be for me if I have to be on tour with Dreya, Truth, and Bethany, without you? As a matter of fact, I'm gonna pull out if you don't go.”
“Are you crazy? You can't pull out of the tour. Mystique and Epsilon Records would trip.”
“I'm not going unless you go.”
“It's not that serious, Sunday.”
“Yes, it is.”
He sighs. “All right, cool. I'll go.”
“Yay!” I kiss Sam on the cheek, and he flinches again.
“Don't . . .”
“Friends don't kiss each other on the cheek?”
“I don't want your lips on me.”
I give him a smart-aleck smirk. “That's not true. You soooo want my lips on you.”
“Sunday, don't play with my emotions.”
“Okay, I'll stop. But can I ask you one more thing?”
“What?”
“Are we still going to prom together?”
Sam puffs his cheeks with air and taps a few notes on the keyboard. I can tell he's trying to think of an answer.
“I mean, it's okay if you don't . . .” I say.
“It's not that I don't want to, but I got so angry with you that I asked another girl at my school to go to my prom.”
“Oh.” I blink a few times because I refuse to let a tear drop. He asked someone else? He could've told me before he did that. I thought we were better than that. I guess I was wrong.
“You didn't ask someone else?” he asks.
“No. I thought we'd make up by the time prom came.”
“Do you still want me to go to your prom with you?”
I shrug. “If you want to, I guess. I don't have a date.”
Sam flashes a bright smile. “Okay. We can go as friends.”
“Right. As friends.”
Mystique comes back into the recording room. “Are we ready to record now?”
“Yes,” I reply. “Let's do this.”