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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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Chapter 4
“W
hy is it that you seem to think everything is always about you?” Madison asked.
“Whatever—I'm not in the mood for this right now,” Jamahl replied.
“When are you ever in the mood to discuss anything serious? All you want to do is soar by all our issues.”
“Whatever. I'm watching television. Can you please go back to whatever you were doing?”
Madison began to walk away and then turned back.
“No, you aren't just going to dismiss me like I'm some child. I'm talking to you, and I'd appreciate it if you would listen.”
“And I would appreciate it if you didn't talk to me right now.”
Madison could feel her stomach tying in knots from the frustration. She hated when Jamahl put up this wall; because he was so damn stubborn, it was hell trying to break it down.
“So you are just going to sit here and magnify the situation by ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you, and you are the one magnifying the situation. All I said is I don't want to go to some stupid event with you, and you are turning this into me being a selfish partner and thinking everything is about me. This is you making a big deal out of nothing.”
“There you go, saying it's nothing. It
is
selfish of you because it's a work event, and I would really like you to attend with me, and you are saying no without a reason.”
“I do have a reason: I don't want to go, and I would really like it if you stopped pressuring me about it. So I think that makes you a selfish partner because you keep bothering me about it.”
Madison couldn't take it anymore. When Jamahl got like this, there was no talking to him. He was determined to be difficult and not see things from her point of view, so she just figured she would save herself any more aggravation and go back to the bedroom where she'd been before she'd brought all this up again.
Jamahl didn't say anything when he saw that Madison had gotten fed up and walked out of the living room. He just readjusted himself in his seat and turned the volume up some. Madison didn't turn back this time; she continued into the bedroom.
She was cuddled up reading a book, with a recorded
Tyra
show on mute, when she began to want to go back into the living room and ask Jamahl yet again why he couldn't join her at the
MTV Video Music Awards
preshow dinner the following week.
The only explanation he had given thus far was that he wasn't interested in dealing with a bunch of fake industry people all night—whereas most people would die for the chance to go to the award show or any of the star-studded events surrounding it. Still, since he had said no a few days ago, there had been a bit of tension between them. Instead of going into the living room, though, she pulled the covers back over her legs, realizing that her badgering didn't help at all—technically, she just made it worse.
Jamahl chuckled loudly at something on television. Just hearing his contentment while she was feeling pure aggravation annoyed Madison even more. She truly felt disgust in her veins; she was through trying to make her fiancé into the perfect mate. She kept telling herself to either accept him for who he was or walk out the door, but for some reason she couldn't do either of the two. She just couldn't seem to build a tolerance for his non–Prince Charming attributes, yet she wasn't prepared to walk away from all she had built with him. It was definitely a catch-22, no matter how she sliced it.
Madison suddenly decided she was going to get out of the house and go to the mall, one of the few things that put her in a good mood. She threw on some black leggings, with a tan shirt that was long enough to cover her butt, and then pulled on her UGG boots. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and although she wasn't spruced up, she looked cute without trying. She said nothing as she passed Jamahl, who was still stationed on the couch. She noticed that he looked at her while she was putting on her coat, but she knew he had too much pride to ask where she was going.
It was a Saturday afternoon, which meant it might be a bit crowded at the mall, but the way she was feeling, she figured it would beat sitting alone indoors. She was hoping Jamahl thought she was running off to meet her secret lover. At times, she really wished deep down that she had a lover. Her midnight-blue BMW was sitting in the driveway in desperate need of a wash, and Madison jumped right in. She put on her seatbelt and drove off, waving to her gorgeous neighbor Mitchell as she passed.
Damn, if he wasn't married and I didn't live down the street from him with Jamahl
. . . she told herself again for the millionth time.
She was only five blocks away when she realized she had left her cell phone at home. She sat at the stop sign for a whole minute, wondering if she should go back, but she decided against it. As though she weren't addicted to her CrackBerry, Madison kept driving. It took everything in her to keep going, but she wasn't in the mood to go back to that house and see Jamahl's happy-go-lucky expression. He had this ability when they fought, to carry on like there was nothing wrong; meanwhile she would be smoking out of her ears. By the time she reached the mall, and stepped inside to her shopping heaven, she forgot about her phone. She walked right toward Nordstrom, ready to get lost in the scent of new clothes, shoes, and accessories.
Madison perused the floor and looked at the different racks of clothes. She had her eye on all things bright, it seemed—her last few shopping trips, she had brought home colors that stood out. Madison was ordinarily a black, white, gray, and navy girl, but lately she was loving bright colors from the whole Crayon box. It was actually making her enjoy shopping even more because she knew she wasn't buying things the same or similar to something she already owned, and even if the item
was
similar to something she owned, she knew she didn't have it in that color. She walked around the racks and took her time pulling things off to get a better look. It didn't take long before the sight of a pine-green shoe and another paisley shoe caught her eye. She went straight to the woman behind the register to ask for both shoes in her size and then sat down to wait.
She looked around the mall at all the people whisking by. There were mothers with their strollers, and young girls with their friends and other ladies with their husbands. For a split second, Madison got lost in their joy. She wondered to herself which she would rather be: a mother, a young girl, or a wife. She was a thirty-six-year-old woman, and still there was so much she hadn't experienced. Some days she felt left out—behind in life. She often felt regret that she had chosen a career over motherhood and a more settled lifestyle. Motherhood was pretty much out of the question; the job was so demanding she felt she would be a horrible mother. Her career definitely called for some sacrifice. Yet Jamahl wasn't looking to marry someone who couldn't commit to their home, let alone him. Madison knew exactly what she wanted on most days, but others, she didn't.
She was thinking about how great she would feel as a mother or a wife. She thought about what she was missing in her own life. It wasn't until the lady returned with her shoes that she remembered that being any of those ladies would likely not afford her the opportunity to just come to the mall on a lovely Saturday afternoon with no kids in tow, like she could, and shop without any regard for someone else or the “responsibilities of life.” So, at that moment, she realized that she would rather be just who she was—a young, single, not lonely, successful woman with no children just yet. She knew that with all great things comes sacrifice, and she had chosen hers long ago. And when she tried on that pine-green shoe and strutted across the floor to the mirror, she was that much more assured that she was living the right life for her.
Madison had both pairs of shoes in a shopping bag and was making her way out of Nordstrom and on to the next store when she started to feel better about everything, including the tiff with Jamahl. All the women passing her appeared miserable suddenly. They were either struggling to look at something while watching their child or they were trying to hurry as their husbands rushed them along. Madison, on the other hand, was taking her precious time trying on everything she felt would look great on her at her high-powered job.
Chapter 5
H
e was taller than he looked on television, and his smile and flawless skin weren't the result of airbrushing for the magazines: he was gorgeous. As soon as Madison looked up and saw him walking toward her, along with two familiar faces and two strange ones, she put on her friendly face.
“Hey, Maddie, this is Johnny Polytics, our new artist on Intheloop Records. Johnny, this is Madison, the program director,” Kristin, the Intheloop rep, said.
Madison was dressed in dark blue, fitted skinny jeans and a navy-blue-and-white Akademiks T-shirt.
“Hello, there,” Madison said as she reached out to shake Polytics's hand.
“Nice to meet you. I really go by Polytics,” he replied.
“Nice to meet you as well,” Madison said.
“Thank you for supporting the new record so heavily,” he said.
“Thank
you
for making a hit—that's what we play here at Drama Ninety-Nine, so it's my pleasure.”
“Well, thanks for considering a hit so early on before the rest of America caught on.”
“Again, no problem. I've been doing this for quite some time. I know a hit when I hear one.”
“Well, that's good to know. I may have to find a way to get you on my payroll to have you sit with me in the studio and pick my hits.”
“Whoa,” Kristin interrupted. “Let's not make those jokes, especially not in public or so loud.”
The three of them giggled, but Polytics didn't take his eyes off Madison, not even for a second.
Polytics had the hottest single on the East Coast airwaves. There was no secret that all his prior success on the street underground level was about to pay off big-time. Every time you opened a magazine or turned on your television, you saw his face or something about him—never mind that one of his songs was played on the radio every thirty minutes. He was large in stature, and his celebrity status had escalated overnight. It was no coincidence that one of his first stops as an established success would be Drama 99 FM. This radio station was where all artists wanted to be if they could.
Everyone passing Madison's office recognized him instantly but tried not to stare. Not that you couldn't notice him—he had an attention-grabbing physique and aura, and the fact that he was dripped in diamonds didn't make him any more low key. Madison didn't feel that comfortable as he eyeballed her, and decided she should put an end to their powwow. He was fine, and under different circumstances, she would have turned on her flirtometer, but this wasn't the time nor the place . . . or the person.
“So you are going to do an interview with our afternoon radio queen?” she jumped in.
“I thought you were doing the interview,” Polytics said with a grin.
“Oh, no, not me. I sit back here and run things, and the talented Miss Ivy does the interviews.”
“Oh, that's too bad. I thought we were going to get the chance to chat it up and get to know each other better.”
“Well, we will have plenty of chances for that behind the scenes,” Madison said.
“I'd like that,” Polytics said.
“Well, off the air, rather,” Madison said, realizing that “behind the scenes” didn't sound so great.
“Gotcha,” he said.
People from the department were walking around not too far away from them, picking up faxes and going from office to office, but it was as though Polytics didn't even notice. He was totally giving Madison his undivided attention. Kristin cut her eyes back and forth between the two of them to see if she could pick up a vibe, and Madison noticed that her own responses weren't helping the matter any. She almost couldn't help it. His charm and swagger were turned up to the trillions, and she didn't want to back down. She had to force herself to snap out of it and just begin to walk away.
“Well, first things first. We need to take care of business, and you guys have to be on air in less than five minutes, so how about you go back to the studio and get settled?” she said as she headed back into her office.
She didn't even look back at Polytics, and she hadn't given any fair warning that she was about to make an exit. She had to take control of the situation. She knew Kristin would get the hint and know where to take him.
“OK, we'll see you in a few,” Kristin said.
Kristin and Polytics headed back to the studio together. A few of the station staff were in their path and quickly moved out of the way. If there was one music business rule most of the staff grasped and lived by, it was the “don't be a groupie” rule. It didn't matter how much you loved the person's music or talents, you were not to stare and be a nuisance to the celebrities. So to avoid looking like they were paying Mr. Polytics any mind, they scurried out of his way, almost pretending they didn't even know who he was.
Once he walked away, Alexis looked at Madison and then looked away.
“What?” Madison laughed with a full-fledged smile on her face.
“Nothing,” Alexis replied with an equally obvious grin.
“Whatever,” Madison said. “Y'all folks need to get your minds out of the gutter.”
“I didn't say anything,” Alexis said as she turned away and began typing on her computer.
Alexis wasn't sure if Madison was joking or a bit upset—it was hard to tell with her. Madison was moody; at certain times in the day she was mad cool, and then at others she was just an absolute bitch. Alexis decided to act like she hadn't seen any of that flirtation because the last thing she wanted was her name in the middle of any he-said-she-said.
The “industry,” as it was often referred to, had an unspoken code. The code was that everything was to be kept a secret, especially from those not in the industry. As Jay-Z stated in one of his hit songs, “It's a secret society, all we ask is trust, and within a week, watch your arm freeze up.” Most people obeyed because it was the world they were privy to; it was a privilege to be appreciated. People dreamed and died to be a part of the music business, so, for most, once you were in, you weren't to take it for granted. Yet there was more than enough gossip to go around—way more than what actually became public knowledge. The industry was filled with sex, drugs, and rock and roll—literally. There really was no code of conduct, and that was why there was a scandal every way you turned—enough to write a book.
Alexis wondered if the people on the outside knew that the industry wasn't all it seemed, if they would still want in so bad. If they knew that hanging with the stars and having access to some of entertainment's most glamorous events meant nothing at the end of the day, would they still envy her for being in the industry? If they knew that dealing with a bunch of egos and the fraternity mentality of the industry could make you want to stab someone, would they still spend their entire careers trying to get a job among the business?
Madison was back in her office by the time Polytics got off air, and she was hoping he and his escorts wouldn't make their way back into programming, because she didn't want another awkward moment. She was able to roll with the punches, but not in the middle of her department in front of her staff. Behind closed doors, she could show him she wasn't one of the little girls he was used to impressing. Moments passed, and there was still no sign of Polytics, so she figured he had gone ahead to his next business stop. She continued looking through the
Billboard
magazine to see what songs were climbing the charts and didn't notice at all that Jocelyn, the new music director, had stepped in.
“Maddie,” she said.
“Yes,” she said as she looked up.
“We are going to have a little problem. Trait's record is number one on the
106 & Park
countdown, and it's playing heavy on the station down the dial.”
“So what's the problem?”
“We may have to get on this record, but if we put it in now, are we going to look late?”
“Who said we have to put it in because other people are playing it? We are Drama Ninety-Nine—we play what we play, and we decide what's a hit.”
From the look on Jocelyn's face, Madison could tell she wanted to say something else but was hesitant to challenge her.
“Listen, Jocelyn, that is not a problem. If we decide to play it because we think our audience will like it, we will play it.”
“OK,” she said as she began to head out of the office.
Madison felt a little bad that she'd been a little rough on her, but she knew she had to teach her how things worked in the New York market. Jocelyn had only been there for a couple months and was still caught up in the glitz and glamour of the New York market. She was talented and knew radio, but Madison had been trying to get her to see it was not going to be as easy as it had been in Philadelphia. Prior to her being hired, the acting music director, Keith, had been keeping things in order for Madison, but he hadn't been completely ready to take on all the responsibilities of the job, so Madison had brought Jocelyn on board. So although she didn't mean to come off like a witch, she knew she had to keep grooming her. Besides, Madison hated that she called her Maddie—she was her staff, and she didn't want her getting that comfortable.
One thing Madison's position called for was leadership and management skill, but as a woman it also called for fear. As a woman she was tested way more than the men in her position were, so Madison had to constantly keep her law laid down so people knew not to mess with her. She didn't like to always be labeled the ball breaker, but she knew that was how she kept her staff under control. The fact that Polytics had made her vulnerable in front of everyone didn't help, so she had to quickly erase those thoughts; a little ball busting was a quick and easy way to do so.

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