The Come Up

Chapter 9 - Hoodies

The hood was loving Trev's song so much that people were blasting it in their cars as they drove past us, Trev began performing more of his music. We both went to different places in the city to do open mics, on top of that we were in the studio as much as we could be. Music had taken over our lives and it was perfect. When we were in the studio, I tried to focus on music and not what was going on with us personally, even though that became harder and harder as sex began to feel like the best thing in the world, along with Trev's touch and his body and ohh his kisses.

"Chanel?" Flex chants my name.

I look at him, coming back to reality.

"You are zoned out today. Everything alright?" He asks.

I nod quickly. "When am I not deep in thought?" I joke.

"True." Flex answers. I didn't sing today, Flex seemed to be working on mixing Trev's vocals. It was all about Trev recently, which was fine. Flex said it himself. He was more familiar with rappers. 

Okay. 

I can't lie. 

 I was a little jealous.

"Did you get back to Richard or Mac about the college you're going to?" Flex turns his spinning chair around to stare at me.

"Nope, not yet. But I got accepted to Harvington, right in the middle of Albany. I think i'm going to go." I say, flipping through some pages of my journal. It was hard to think about leaving everything we've started here. Most days I shunned it away from my mind completely. It was easier not to think about it at all.

"You MIGHT go? To Harvington? You MIGHT?" Flex exclaims as he gazes at me in disbelief. I make an odd face at him which he ignores.

 "One of the top Ivy league schools in the country and you're saying that you MIGHT attend?"

I smile sheepishly. "No big deal. I like what i'm doing here." I answer. I didn't tell anyone but a huge part of me kinda just wanted to stay and do music, but I knew that was unrealistic. 

"What you're doing here does not compare to how bright your future will be if you graduate from Harvington. You can graduate as a janitor and you will still be an inspiration to any of these kids on the block.

"I know. I just know they aint like us. The kids that go there. ..they probably stuck up and smart." I shrug and direct my gaze to the door of the studio.

"Good, you will fit right in!" Flex retorts. I roll my eyes and he laughs his throaty laugh. 

"Be happy and go to the school Chanel. You got ya studio and producer over there, very close by it seems, so you still gon be doing ya thing. When you get tired of the smart, stuck up people, go to Mac and record fire tracks. Problem solved."

I sigh and look up at Flex with puppy eyes. "What do I do when I miss you?" I ask childishly. 

"You bring ya smart, stuck up ass, right back here on that weekend." His voice is warm and gentle.

I smile and clutch my heart. He always knew what to say. Leaving Flex was hard enough. I stopped myself from thinking about leaving Trev and Trisha and Mom. I can always visit but it just wont be the same. I was homesick while still at home. Trev walked through the door with Pookie who had shaved his head into a high top with a fade. His baggy clothes and red book bag were signature to his style. Trev was wearing jeans and a black sweater with his song name across the chest and his logo that Pookie created.

"Yoooo Chanel!" Pookie always spoke loudly but he illuminated the room. Him and Trev both. It was a different energy when they walked in and everyone always felt it. "Wassup young Empress?" He says rolling the R's.