Sky's The Limit

xxix

"They said, 'y'all ain't signed yet, mothafucka's! You don't get no good shit just yet!'" Will interjected before tearing open the crummiest packet, flakes of crackers exploding like confetti once the packaging was ripped.

Laughter ensued while he shoved crackers into his mouth.

I guess we know how Will's coping with his nerves right about now— eating.

I glanced around for my other crew members, finding every other black and brown face but theirs. I figured I'd find them eventually, brushing off the immediate urgency that my restlessness triggered... until there was a call for a crew named Mass Appeal.

I.V. was right after them, according to the setlist we were informed of upon arrival. The order was pretty standard for the most part— singing acts would break up the monotonous aggression of rappers, and the night would conclude with a countdown into the new year.

The new year would begin with a surprise guest. No one knew who, but there were rumors that it was somebody big. Guesses ranged from Janet Jackson to Onyx.

Part of me hoped it was an emcee by the name of King Ceezar.

He was out of Long Island, and blew up a few years back. He only became more popular and revered since then, even his B-sides being spun on the Stretch & Bobbito Show. He had a crazy flow, which disrupted the Kangol raps that reigned, when he initially debuted. And, now, he's only continued pushing hip-hop forward.

He was one of the reasons I started rhymin', if I was keepin' it G, and seein' the nigga live— even if I had to do so from the side of the stage— would probably be one of the biggest highlights of this year.

Now, my anticipation to perform expanded, knowing that once I.V. was done, we'd finally figure out who we were bringing the new year in with.

"Yo, where's Ice?" I asked Will, figuring that Tony wouldn't be far behind.

Will shrugged, continuing to crunch on them dry ass crackers.

"A'ight, well, be ready to make your way to the stage soon," I commanded before maneuvering my way out of the green room.

I popped into every dressing room, sending nods of acknowledgment to those I recognized and making quick connections with those I didn't.

There was one room that wasn't as filled as the rest, and in it were entourage members for an act I had yet to see arrive. I figured this would soon be the room for the mystery guest, and by the sight of such a rough crowd, I knew Janet Jackson was probably ruled out as an option.

I kissed my teeth, resuming my path through the labyrinth of the Palladium halls. I found myself drawing closer to the stage, the lighting becoming more and more dark as I started seeing more technical people and less entertainers.

The powerhouse vocals of a woman echoed, only growing louder as the sounds of an audience began drowning out the music that blared underneath the singer.

A sustained belt pushed forth cheers and screams from the audience. It was deafening, standing in the wings of the stage. My eyes found the source of such a captivating voice.

Standing under a single spotlight with extended arms and a head tilted to the sky, the woman gave all of herself as the music indicated a grand finale. With winding piano keys and cymbal rolls, she finished her song, and the crowd went wild.

She took a graceful bow just before the spotlight dimmed to darkness.

"Give it up, one more time for Deanna Saunders!" a male voice boomed as the full stage became illuminated. The woman grinned and waved to the crowd, accepting props from the host as she exited stage left.