On the Flip Side (11 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: On the Flip Side
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“That's an interesting term ... pimp.”
“Yes, that's what he does. Evan lets these artists spend more money than they have so that they're always in debt to the record company. Once they start living a certain lifestyle, they can't stop. It's like they're addicted to it, but his artists never earned the money to have that life.”
“That will never be me!”
“I hope not, sweetie, because that's a sad situation,” Ms. Layla says. “I've seen it too many times.”
Making it big and losing it all is definitely not how I roll. I didn't come this far to end up broke. My mama taught me well. I don't need a Mystique, a Ms. Layla, or an Evan to keep me on the right path.
It's kind of amazing that Dreya and I grew up together, but turned out so differently.
15
“M
om, do you want to go to the American Music Awards with us?” I ask my mother as I lay stretched out on her living room couch. This was always one of my favorite places to lounge, because there is a direct line of sight from the couch to the TV.
My mother wipes her flour covered hands on her apron. She's making my favorite, fried chicken and waffles.
“No, I don't think so. That's next weekend right?”
I nod. “I didn't think you'd want to go, but Dreya is bringing Aunt Charlie, so I just wanted to make sure you weren't mad at me.”
“Going to an awards show with a bunch of artists would not be my thing, but your aunt ... well, I'm sure she'll enjoy herself.”
“And embarrass everybody too! Aunt Charlie gets on my nerves.”
“Oh, I think she's planning to be really classy this time. She and Dreya went shopping for some platinum-blond weave.”
I shake my head and change the channel on the TV. My mom is just saying this to get on my nerves. She knows that I hate Aunt Charlie's colorful weaves.
“I wish that just once, Aunt Charlie would buy hair in a color that grows naturally from humans' heads.”
This makes my mother laugh. “Charlie is just trying to stay young. Y'all growing up is making us feel old.”
“Excuse me!” My baby cousin, Manny, is tapping on my foot with an action figure of some sort. I look up at him and he's got a really stank expression on his face.
“I want to go to the America Awards!” Manny says.
“You can't go, lil' man! This is just for grown people.”
“Then why you going? You ain't grown. I just heard my mama telling Dreya the other day that her name
ain't
Drama and she ain't grown. Since my sister is older than you that means you ain't grown either!”
My mom says, “Sunday goes to college. Doesn't that make her all grown up?”
“Nope, 'cause she still be over here eating our food. And she don't have a job!”
I hit Manny with a little pillow from the couch and he jabs the action figure into my leg. “You little monster! I do have a job. I am a singer, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. You and Dreya be going on tour and stuff. But when you gone get a check? People who be on TV is not supposed to be living with roaches.”
“Manny, we do not have roaches,” my mother says.
“For real? I thought I saw one in my oatmeal this morning. That's why I ain't eat it.”
“Boy, that was a raisin!” my mother says as she chases Manny out of the room.
As much as I'm enjoying college life and the dorm, I miss Manny's little self. Always eating my food, falling asleep in my bed, and then peeing on himself and wetting up my sheets. Wait a minute. What the heck am I saying? I do not miss this at all!
“Are you going to be back home for Thanksgiving? All of this traveling to California and whatnot is taking place right around the holidays.”
“It is. But the awards show is on November twenty-first. We'll be back home in plenty of time to eat your turkey, dressing, and macaroni and cheese.”
“Who's we? Is Sam going to come to our Thanksgiving feast?”
“He probably will.”
“How's my Sam?” my mother asks. “How's he doing in school?”
“He dropped out, Mom! Can you believe that?”
“I'm sure he had a good reason. The last time I spoke to his mother she said he was making almost a six-figure salary.”
“You talk to Sam's mother?” This is somewhat annoying. I don't know if I want my mother all up in my mix, calling my boyfriend's mother like she's checking up on me. Parents are nosy as what!
“I saw her at the steppers ball.”
“What in the world is a steppers ball? Sounds like some old people party.”
“It's a party where we play our music and do our dances. Stepping.”
“So why were you two talking about me and Sam?”
My mother laughs out loud. “We can talk about you if we want! He's paying some of his mother's bills and she's happy about that. But she doesn't like him living all the way in New York City.”
“Me either.”
“It must be nice for her, though, getting some of those bills paid.”
I have to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud. My mother is hinting at getting her bills paid, which is absolutely a given when I finally get a royalty check.
“Mom, when I get my money, you know I'm gonna hook you up!”
“Dreya got an advance check. You didn't get one of those and didn't tell me, did you?”
“No, Mom! I took a small advance to pay for my tuition. I don't want to borrow against my earnings. I want to be shocked when I hold that check in my hand. Mystique says it's going to be pretty large.”
“We'll get an accountant and plan it out before you spend one dime. I don't want you to look up and still not have enough money for school. Not after all of this.”
“Me either, because finishing school is like my prime directive right now. That's why I don't understand what's up with Sam.”
“Maybe you'll find that it's hard to keep up with both as well. I mean, you're going to an award show in the middle of your semester. How can you concentrate on your studies with all of this going on?”
“It's hard. But I don't want to quit.”
“Just know that whatever you do, I'll support you one hundred percent. But I don't want to see you burn out.”
“I will stop doing music before I drop out of school.”
My mother moves my legs out of the way and sits down next to me. “You know, every decision is not black and white. Some things are kind of hazy.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm just saying that I don't want you to be so dead set on one decision that you miss a blessing from God.”
“You think God wants me to drop out of college?”
My mother shrugs. “I'm not sure, but He'll give you a sign about it, that I do know.”
I lay back on the couch and gaze at the ceiling, trying to digest my mother's words of wisdom. I would think that if
anyone
wanted me to stay at Spelman, it would be my mom. Everyone's doubting me before they give me a chance to succeed.
I'm going to show them. My mother, Sam, Mystique, Evan ... all of them. I can and will do this: school and the music. I will be the exception to the rule. I'm going to be the one to prove everyone wrong.
16
“I
'm Jessica Barnes from
Younggiftedandrich.com
and I'm coming to you live and direct from the red carpet of the American Music Awards, at the Nokia Theatre in beautiful Los Angeles. They say that it never rains in Southern California, but we're getting a few raindrops this evening. But a little bit of rain is not keeping the stars from shining bright. I've got Sunday Tolliver, rising star and princess of Reign Records. Tell us who designed your fabulous geisha-inspired gown.”
I inhale deeply and exhale. I realize this is going to be on the Internet in front of thousands of people and I feel my nerves getting the best of me.
“Thank you! It was designed by none other than Ms. Layla.”
“Now, Ms. Layla is Mystique's mother, right?”
“Yes, and she designs wonderful clothes.”
“Did she outfit everyone here from Reign Records tonight?”
“Not everyone, but quite a few.”
Actually, she designed clothes for everyone except Dreya, but I'm not going to say that to the interviewer for this very, very popular blog. They get close to a million hits a day and the last thing I want is to be quoted starting drama.
“Sooo ... this is Sam, your boyfriend, right?”
A big smile on my face as Sam puts his arm around me. He says, “I'm the executive producer on her album. We wrote every song together.”
Jessica giggles. “Well, you make very beautiful music together.”
“Thank you,” I say, before we're pushed forward on the red carpet, and Jessica attacks some other more popular celebrities.
I whisper to Sam, “Did you see? That was Patti La-Belle. I want to meet her later.”
“I want to meet Lauryn Hill. Maybe she'll ask me to work on her next project. That would be hot!”
“Ooh! Look! There's Alicia Keys and Beyoncé! I wonder what they're talking about.”
“Beyoncé? Hmm ... she just reminds me so much of Mystique. I don't know.”
Sam and I make our way to the doors of the building, stopping periodically to take pictures. Sam is cracking me up! He makes sure he's got his arm around my waist on every picture. He just wants everyone to know that we're together.
When we get inside the auditorium Sam and I are led to seats close to the stage. There are little tags on each seat, and I notice that every seat in our row is a Reign Records or Epsilon Records artist. I'm sitting between Dreya and Sam.
A distraught-looking usher leads Dreya and Dilly to their seats. Dreya looks beautiful in her red and black (I guess she liked the colors, just not Ms. Layla's dress), but I think I can almost see the steam rising from her head.
“Do you know they would not let my mother onto the red carpet?” Dreya fusses.
I chuckle at the thought of Aunt Charlie posing on the red carpet and talking to bloggers. I know Dreya doesn't like it, but it was really for the best that Aunt Charlie was not allowed her moment to shine.
“It's okay, Dreya. Auntie is not a celebrity.”
“But they not gonna disrespect my mother, Sunday. You would've been tripping if that was Auntie Shawn.”
Actually, my mother wouldn't want to come anywhere near a red carpet. She didn't even want her face shown on our reality show. My mom is kind of low-key, so I guess that's where I get it from. Dreya ... well, she's definitely a lot like her mother!
Dreya starts to say something else, but then she clutches my arm. “What is
he
doing here? I didn't think he'd show up!”
The “he” that Dreya is referring to is her ex-boyfriend, and American Music Award–nominated rapper, Truth. I don't know why she didn't think he'd show up, just because he got dropped from Epsilon Records. He still does music, so it makes perfect sense for him to be here.
His long locks are tied neatly in the back and he's wearing a suit. I don't think I've ever seen him dressed up. He's got not one, but two video chicks escorting him, like he's some sort of don. He actually looks quite ridiculous.
“I told Evan that we should've come together,” Dreya hisses as Truth's girls pose for pictures with him right in the auditorium.
“You don't have to prove anything to him. Don't worry about it,” I say.
I feel Sam jab me in my back. I know he wants an explanation about Dreya and Evan, but I can't give it to him right now, so I just jab him back.
Dilly says, “You want me to pretend to be your date. I won't try to feel you up or anything.”
“Ewww! Get away from me, boy. You wish I'd let you pretend to be my date.”
More and more celebrities come into the auditorium and I'm in awe of how glamorous everyone looks. Big D comes in with Shelly, and her dress reminds me of colored Saran wrap. She's working it though, with her bling and her fabulous shoes.
Big D and Shelly are sitting in the row behind us, and Shelly kisses me on the cheek when they locate their seats. “Ain't seen you in a few days, Sunday. Come over next week and I'll make you some fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”
“That's what's up!”
Sam taps his chest. “What about me? I still like chicken! I still like mac and cheese.”
Shelly laughs and gives Sam a friendly kiss on his forehead like an old lady would give a little boy. “Are you going to even be in Atlanta next week?”
“Yes, I am. So you can just save me some of that food, Shelly. I'm not playing.”
A loud amount of chatter in the room starts when Mystique, Zac, Evan, and some random girl walk into the auditorium. Evan is clearly coupled up with the girl. She's definitely not an artist, but not your regular garden-variety groupie either. She looks like a model type, and Dreya is not happy.
She's furious.
“I cannot believe him!” she fusses under her breath.
One thing about Dreya is that she does not know how to hide her feelings. At all. So while she doesn't say anything to Evan, the icy glare she gives him lets him know that something is going on.
Surprisingly she doesn't explode. This is typically the kind of venue where Dreya likes to show her behind.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to her as we sit down for the show's opening.
“I'm fine. I'm not going to let a groupie ruin my career.”
For the first hour of the show we watch singers, rappers, and actors take the stage distributing and receiving awards. Mystique wins for Best R & B Artist.
Dreya stands up to join Mystique, and Mystique gives her an evil expression, like she wants to punch her in the face. So, I guess it's safe to say that Mystique is ignoring her own decree about all of the Reign Records artists coming on stage for all of the awards.
I listen to her speech. She thanks just about everyone in our camp, from Evan down to Big D and of course Zac.
“... and I want to give a very special thank you to some very gifted songwriters, Sunday Tolliver, Sam Wilkins, Jayquon X, and Selena Bryant. I wouldn't have had such great hit songs without your tremendous talent.”
I glance down the row at Evan and his mouth forms a grim line across his face. He's clearly not happy, and I know it has to do with the fact that Mystique didn't invite all of us up on stage with her. Not even the groupie fawning all over Evan seems to be making him feel better.
After the first hour of the show, we go backstage to prepare for our performance. It's the first time I've seen my friends all night. Gia and Piper have huge grins on their faces and everybody looks excited.
Gia runs up and gives me a hug. “Girl, you were fly as what on the red carpet! We watched you from back here. Also, do you know how many celebrities we met back here! My autograph book is full and Piper got a date.”
“With who?”
“Some rapper in Truth's entourage. They invited her to an after-party... .”
I walk away from Gia midsentence, stride over to Piper, and grab her by the arm. “Piper. Truth's crew is bad news. Seriously. You can go with us, after the show. We're going to an after-party too.”
“Sunday, I'm cool. I can take care of myself. I might not even go with them! I didn't say yes, I just took the guy's cell phone number. Don't stress about it.”
Piper snatches her arm away from me and gives me a look of sheer irritation. Maybe I overstepped the boundaries of our friendship. I mean, I've only known her for a couple of months and now I'm trying to tell her who she should or shouldn't kick it with.
“My bad, Piper. I was just worried about you. That's all.”
“I got this. I've been taking care of me since I was five years old.”
Piper walks away, and I don't follow her even though I feel like I should say something else. I don't know what that would be, though. I guess I'm so used to being the one person in my circle with any common sense. Dealing with Dreya and Bethany left me feeling that way.
Speaking of Bethany, even though she's not in my routine, she's backstage and talking to Evan. She's dressed similarly to the other dancers in my group, so I'm wondering if she's coming out on stage with us. I wouldn't care, but I know she didn't learn the routine. Dilly is on the opposite side of the dressing room, giving Bethany cautious glances.
I walk up to them and hug Bethany. “Hey, girl. What's going on?”
“Well ...”
Evan interjects, “Do you mind if she joins you onstage? She can lead the backup singers.”
“I know the song, Sunday,” Bethany adds.
“Sure, but I don't see the point. She's a solo artist. Why would she want to come out and sing backup with me on stage?”
Evan says, “It's the message we're sending about Reign Records. When they see all of you on stage together—you, Drama, Dilly, and Bethany—it will show that all past bad blood has been erased. Especially since Truth is no longer in the picture.”
I shrug. It actually sounds like a good idea, and since I don't really trust Evan, that's saying a lot for me.
Evan continues, “Mystique has shown that she's not down for the family, but we've got to make sure we still have a good showing for Reign Records tonight.”
Uh-oh. I knew that Evan was annoyed with Mystique about the whole coming on stage thing, but I didn't know he was
this
mad about it. Evan standing backstage dissing Mystique to a couple of newbies is not a good look.
A gossip blogger who's scammed her way backstage takes pictures of Evan as he talks to the other artists and dancers and she's recording him with her camera phone. He doesn't seem to care, but I do. I've got my eye on her. I don't want her anywhere near me.
I ask Bethany, “Did you and Dilly work everything out?”
“Girl, yeah. He thinks I'm gone over him.”
“Are you?”
“What? Be serious, Sunday. I thought you knew me better than that. I liked him and everything, and of course I wanted to know why he wanted to break up, but I'm straight.”
“So you're okay working with him?”
“Look at him! You should be asking him that question. He's been standing in the corner, terrified like a little punk since I got back here. He acts like I'm gonna do something to him. I'm trying to get this paper.”
I chuckle under my breath, because Bethany sounds just like me, talking about getting this paper. To look at her, you'd think she was straight Disney Channel with all that straight brown hair and blond highlights. Her makeup is all glittery and pink. She looks like an extra on the
Hannah Montana
show or something. But as soon as she opens her mouth it's straight hood.
“Okay, well, maybe you should tell him it's all good.”
Bethany laughs. “Nope. I'm actually enjoying this. That's what he gets for trying to play me with his young self. I should've known to not kick it with a high school senior.”
“Yeah, college boys are better,” I say.
“Or I could do like Dreya and get myself a grown man that's making paper. Forget boys altogether.”
I don't comment on this since Evan is at the awards show with a groupie. I don't know what's going through Dreya's mind on that topic, but I know it can't be good. She's never been one to share.
“You guys are on in ten minutes,” the production assistant says.
“Is everyone ready?” I ask.
“Everyone except you, Sunday,” Ms. Layla says. “You need to get into your stage costume.”
Ms. Layla has me dressed and made up in about four minutes flat. She's great at that whole quick-change operation thing.

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