forty | crystal
There was a lot going on.
There was Yo! MTV, of course. Duh. But besides that!
We were in talks for our first video shoot. "Sugar Hill." We wanted to film it in Brooklyn, on the streets with the people. No traffic cones, no holdin' up life as we knew it. Just us, some cameras, and the borough.
But there were obstacles that came with that.
For one, 'Shaan had a self-imposed curfew, so any shots we wanted past sunset was an automatic no-go. It seemed like his paranoia was dimming his long-awaited yearning for the spotlight.
Two, we'd have to wait on permits to film on the streets— permits that the label should've already had, but whatever.
Three, we couldn't come to an agreement on the director. The label already had somebody lined up, but Will fought viciously for a vision that the slated director simply wouldn't be able to bring forth.
"If we can't get fuckin' Ralph McDaniels and fuckin' Classic Concepts then I might as well do the shit myself!" was Will's final word on the matter before we came to a standstill.
Since then, we've heard no word on a video. I was starting to think that the label wasn't fuckin' with us anymore because of that.
But with our televised interview still greenlit, my worries were appeased— at least for the moment. And as long as that was still happening, we had an understanding that the music would still be happening too.
So, once our obligation was fulfilled with MTV, the group consensus was that the summer would consist of a full studio lockdown.
No parties. No playin' around. No cypher-hopping. No nights off.
We were even making arrangements to sleep in the studio for the next two months.
Finishing the album was the number one priority.
But of course — of fucking course! — that would come with its own set of problems too.
But let's not get into that just yet because even as all this "Iron Vacation vs. Eudora Records" and "Iron Vacation vs. itself" bullshit mounted, it was my growing concern for home life that gnawed at the folds of my brain.
Maceo had been helping me figure out how to get Tiffany officially in my custody. However, after a brief sighting of Daniels and Cavelli, it became abundantly clear that the feds were closing in on Maceo.
Yet, it was like nobody knew it but me.
As much as I wanted to warn him, I could never get him alone long enough to do so. Whether it be Tiffany or work, something would always snatch my attention or my time. And, he was just as busy trying to stay afloat with his day-to-day life.
At this point, it would only be a matter of time. The unpredictability of life rendered me helpless.
Tiffany's excited squeal dragged me out of my thoughts. "Oooh, you're gonna be on TV, Cris!"
"It's crazy, right?" I shook my head.
"Stay still so I don't mess this up," she ordered with a meticulous hand shaping my finger waves.
"Is Xena coming over?" she asked.
"What— it ain't enough just to hang with me anymore?" I joked.
She giggled in response while I surfed the channels on my new television.
"She should be on her way though. She told me she'd be wrapping up recording around this time," I answered.
"What's she recording?"
"She got a gig singing background on somebody's record, and then after that, she went to Jersey to work on her demo with Ice," I explained before finally landing on a talk show.
"Who's Ice? You and Xena just be talkin' and mentionin' him like I'm supposed to know who that is," she scoffed.
"He's a producer in Jersey. He DJ'd at our showcase. You remember?" I reminded her.
"I wasn't there," she mumbled.
Awkwardness shifted the air as I glanced up at her. "What'chu mean?"
She nearly laughed. "Cris, I know you not finna get mad about some shit from almost six months ago."
"Who said I was finna get mad?" my face scrunched.
"I know how you get," she forced my head forward once again.
I was quiet only momentarily before poking at the issue further. "So, why you ain't come? It's not like 'Shaany ain't tell you about it."
"Mama wouldn't let me."
I rolled my eyes. "Mama wouldn't let you, but I bet you sneak out for any other thing."
"Every sixteen year old doesn't operate the same way you did, okay?" she sniped.
"Yeah, right. Mama was probably tipsy and too distracted with that D nigga to even notice you were gone. Why wouldn't you take advantage?"
"Because it would mean that I'd have to go from Queens all the way to Manhattan on New Year's Eve. I'm not walkin' to the subway in all that craziness," she scoffed.
"Vonny could've picked you up."
"Vonny doesn't care enough about you and your friends to cancel her plans and sit through a bunch of performances from people she doesn't know."
I nearly laughed. "Please. I know she would've dropped everything to see 'Shaany."
"She doesn't even like 'Shaany like that no more. That's history," she informed me.
"Oh, really?" I raised my eyebrow.
"Yeah, she got a whole boyfriend now. Besides, she learned the hard way that 'Shaany doesn't like her like that."
"What'chu mean the hard way?"
"We ran into him at the record store one time, and he straight played her."
"Damn," I almost shook my head but ceased at the reminder that my hair was being worked upon.
"Yeah."
"Well, it was probably for the best. You know how 'Shaany is."
"Hell yeah. Always entertainin' somebody," she giggled.
Applause roared from the television as a popular singer emerged from behind a curtain and waved to an excited audience.
"Girl, I didn't know Honey was gonna be on here today! Turn that up!" Tiffany ordered with excitement.
Honey, the crowned jewel of Eudora Records.
It was hard to believe that I could call her my labelmate. It still felt surreal, especially since the crew's been too preoccupied with our album to meet and hang with any of our new peers.
As Honey's conversation shifted from music to romance, Tiffany resumed our own topic. "How is he, by the way?"
"Shaan?"
"Yeah."
"Better. A little paranoid, but better."
"That's good. I wanted to check up on him, but I haven't seen him around."
"Yeah, and you know he got a new number now."
"Yeah."
"Have you talked to his moms lately?"
"Yeah. When I heard about what happened, I called her to tell her to send him my well wishes, but she hadn't talked to him in a while either."
"Did she know about what happened to him?"
"She suspected that it was him, but I guess me callin' was her confirmation," she elaborated.
"Damn... Imagine finding out some shit like that from the streets and from phone calls, not your own son."
Tiffany's voice shot up an octave. "Yeah! I thought the same thing!"
"Poor Mrs. Hughes."
"Yeah... He was always like a mama's boy too, so it's gotta be hard on her," Tiff shook her head. "Why they stop talkin'? I knew he was spending a lot of time in Brooklyn, but I thought that was on some rap shit, not no family shit."
"Yeah, he was in Brooklyn a lot, but it wasn't because of family shit, at first... but somethin' happened with his pops, and he hadn't looked back since."
"Well, what happened?" Tiffany's nosey self leaned into my peripheral.
"Girl, I can't say for sure, but he came in the day of our showcase audition with his voice fucked up. Then, he was sleepin' in the studio and at Will's crib for months, after we got our deal," I recounted.
"Whaaat?"
"Yes, girl. And one night, we were arguin', and I implied that his pops had fucked him up, and his face was on the floor! So... you can imagine what his beef is with Mr. Hughes, but I don't know what that has to do with his mom."
"Maybe she let it happen," Tiff mumbled.
"What'chu mean?"
"I don't know, like... 'Shaany wouldn't stay away from one person for the fear of another. I mean— even when him and Mace was beefin', he didn't stay away from you. So, why else would he stay away from his mother?"
I'd never thought about it. I'd never thought this in-depth about 'Shaany and his relationships, in general.
But maybe it'd be worthwhile to reach out and check on him.
Things haven't been the same between me and Ishaan in a grip, even with how well things've been going with the group.
Maybe this would be just the thing to get us back to how things were before rap became the only bridge between us.
The phone rang abruptly, kidnapping my attention.
I answered the call, thankful that the phone was already sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
"Hello?"
"What's up, mamas? What'chu up to?" Maceo's voice invaded the tunnel of my ear.
"Hey, Mace. Tiff's doin' my hair."
"Hey, Maceo!" Tiff shouted right in my ear.
I winced, glancing up at her with scrunched up facial features while Maceo shouted his greetings back. "Hey, T! How's my favorite little sister?"
"Boy, bye! You have Vonny. Do not be claiming my sister as yours," I said just as a series of knocks beat against the door of my apartment.
Tiffany got up before I even had to tell her to, leaving me to finally straighten my neck.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Maceo kissed his teeth.
"Uh-huh. Speakin' of my sister, what's the word? You said you was talkin' to a lawyer."
"Damn, baby. I can't get an 'I miss you' or nothin' first?"
I playfully rolled my eyes while he chuckled.
"I mean, come on. That's how you greet your man now? Just off-the-bat business?"
"My bad," I fought off a smile. "How are you? I missed you."
"That's more like it," he finished off his laughter before continuing. "I missed you too, shit. I'm doin' better now that I'm talkin' to you."
"Isn't that sweet?" I stood from the floor, watching Xena dance her way into my new home while Tiffany locked the door.
In her possession was a bottle cloaked in a brown paper bag.
"Hey, girl. What'chu got a bottle for?" I scoffed, meeting her hug halfway.
"To celebrate," she grinned.
"Who's celebrating?" Maceo asked in my opposite ear.
"Xena is. Hold on, Mace," the phone repelled my ear as we waltzed into my kitchen.
"What are we celebrating?" Tiffany inquired while leaning against a counter.
"My demo tape is officially done and ready to be shopped around," she unsheathed the champagne bottle.
"Congrats!" I smiled broadly.
"Now that's worth celebrating!" Tiffany ogled the champagne.
"Girl, you ain't drinkin' that!" I scolded.
"What'chu mean?" she whined. "It's barely alcohol!"
My eyebrow raised at her. "And how would you know that?"
"Uhhh," she didn't have a reasonable answer as I brought the phone receiver back to my ear.
"Maceo, you better tell Yvonne to stop gettin' my sister into shit she ain't got no business bein' in."
"What kinda' shit?"
"Drinkin' and shit!"
He kissed his teeth. "Come on, baby. You was drinkin' at her age too. You still got your fake I.D. right now."
"Anyways!" I immediately rerouted the conversation. "What'd the lawyer say?"
He laughed, refusing to respond until his tone fit his answer. "He said that you might not be able to be Tiff's guardian."
"Why not? I got a stable job, and I'm her damn sister."
My words took Tiffany's attention away from the bottle Xena was struggling to uncork.
"Yeah, but you'll also be going on tour once the album drops, right?"
"You can watch her or—"
"If she's just gonna be left to her own devices or passed onto the next person while she's in your custody, what's the point of you being her guardian? She might as well stay where she's at."
I sighed deeply. "So... what about emancipation? Is that still an option?"
"Yeah, but she has to prove that she's able to take care of herself. A job, enough money to buy a place, and her guardian has to sign off on a crib—"
"That's bullshit."
"That's the law, baby."
"Well... can't you pull a couple strings? Like how you got me my first spot?"
"Baby, we got that first spot because my name was on the lease. If I'm not her guardian or something like that, co-signing her shit will look weird in the eyes of the law."
"Is that what the lawyer said or just your negative thoughts?"
"I'm just considering all possible options and outcomes."
"I'm considering the fact that you really aren't trying as hard as you could, Maceo."
"Seriously, Cris?"
"Yeah."
"After lookin' for a lawyer, paying for his time just for a consultation, doin' all this research about—"
"I know you love recitin' lists and all that shit, but I'ma let you save your breath and just hang up the phone now."
"Cris—"
I ended the call as the cork finally popped.
Tiffany tried to act as if she wasn't fazed by what little she caught of Mace and I's conversation, but her disappointment was still apparent.
Shit, mine was too.
In fact, it fueled my sudden need for a glass, and after pouring up two glasses (and one cup of juice for Tiffany), our sadness was funneled into a different avenue. Our collective celebration for Xena commenced.
And the next morning marked I.V.'s very first television debut.
We were standing on the Brooklyn bridge. The skyline was the perfect backdrop, and I was grateful that we were able to make our first introduction to the world from a borough that'd become home for all of us.
If we had to sit in front of a bunch of cameras and studio lights, I don't even know how many ways my head would've been spinning.
A small camera crew accompanied the one and only Fab 5 Freddy as he greeted the four of us and gave us a rundown of how things were gonna go.
Our spot would only be about ten minutes in total. He'd do an intro by himself and then cut. After that, he'd formally introduce us to the world and ask some questions. We'd introduce a video. He'd ask some more questions, and if we had time, we could bust a quick freestyle with no cussing.
I was so anxious, knowing that freestyling wasn't a strength of mine.
It was a skill that I'd definitely improved upon over the last six months, but it definitely wasn't something I felt comfortable doing as I made my debut to the world.
Especially not under any time constraints.
"Yo, don't even trip," Will assured me with an arm around my shoulders.
"Who said I was trippin'?" I faked a smile.
"Nobody... but I know how you get," he said.
I rolled my eyes, thinking of how Tiffany echoed the same thing yesterday.
"Look, when in doubt... you can just use one of my rhymes. It's no big deal," he shrugged.
"Yes, it is, Will. Anything I spit, I want it to come from me."
"When you spit it, it is coming from you."
"You know what I mean," I kissed my teeth.
He chuckled, sliding his arm from around me and taking my hand into his. "I understand that you don't wanna feel like you're relying on anybody for rhymes. I respect that."
He continued, "But I also understand that you're nervous, and you don't think your skill is all that. Even though I think you need to stop selling yourself short, I know that you maaad in your head right now. So, just use somethin' from an old tape and keep it movin'."
"You sure?"
"Hell yeah. Ain't nobody gon' know but the people in Brooklyn," he scoffed.
My slight smile dropped. "Gee, Will, that comforts me more than you know."
He teetered at my sarcasm with that cheesy grin painting his face. "They're the only ones that remember those old tapes me and 'Shaan used to do. Shit, depending on how far back you go, you and 'Shaan will probably be the only ones who'll remember."
I was still apprehensive, but in true Will fashion, he knitted a blanket of comfort and wrapped me in it with just a smile.
I squinted up at him, not wanting to give in just yet. "Even if I did one of your rhymes, nobody can do it like you can."
"Nobody can do my rhymes like you can either. Just own that shit, baby. Change the delivery. Make it yours. You don't even gotta use the same flow, you know."
Oh so convincing and charismatic William McKay. It was hard to say no.
All I could say was, "We'll see what happens when the cameras start rollin'."
"We'll see, indeed," his eyebrows bounced as he flashed all thirty-two of his pearly whites.
Within mere moments, we would begin rolling.
I did a slight touch-up with a pocket mirror, inspecting my finger waves and making sure that I didn't still have imprinted lines from a durag tied too tight, the previous night.
With one last glimpse to ensure that I didn't have lipstick on my teeth, I was just about ready.
Ishaan was brushing his waves in silence.
He'd been quiet all day. Maybe he was getting in the zone of his rapstar persona. Maybe he was trying to take this all in. Maybe he just had a lot on his mind.
"You good?" I asked him.
He scoffed, not even bothering to answer, let alone look at me. My brow furrowed at him as I attempted to step into his line of vision.
"What's wrong wit'chu? Of all days, I thought this would be the one you'd be bouncin' off the walls for."
"I don't look excited to you?" he deadpanned.
"You never look any kind of way, to be honest, but I'd expect a smile or somethin'."
He flashed a closed-lipped smile before walking away to be alone with his thoughts and his wave brush again.
"Don't sweat that. He's just nervous," Tony approached before using me as an armrest.
"Shit, me too, but you don't see me being rude," I crossed my arms, fighting the urge to shrug him off of me.
"Well, we can't all be the ray of sunshine like you," he smiled reassuringly.
I playfully rolled my eyes, watching our interviewer make conversation with Will aside the camera.
Will was on a director's kick right now, especially since talks of our first video sprung up and subsequently fizzled out.
He already had so many ideas for both Sugar Hill and Need You Tonight, and he was adamant about seeing it through.
Although his ideas of smooth lavishness contradicted the so-called image of the group, they did seem to fit the sound of the songs rather nicely.
His vision just needed some tweaking, that's all.
"Alright, people. Let's get ready to roll," announced Freddy.
With that, things went just as he said they would. He prepped the world for what was to come, and within moments, we were grouped up in front of the camera and given mics.
"We're back, Yo! MTV Raps, and this group you're about to meet right now goes by the name Iron Vacation. What's up, yo?"
We introduced ourselves individually.
We (really just 'Shaan and Will) explained how the group got together—
Well, me and her lived in the same projects in Queens, and then we met him in school. Me and him ran the cyphers together. And then he was my mans from around the way —
Yada yada yada. Y'all know the story.
We introduced a video on the countdown— it was a new joint from Honey.
We came back from the countdown, detailing what it was like to be on the same label as Honey and what it was like comin' up in our respective boroughs.
We didn't disclose anything too deep but kept it real enough to be felt. Thank God for media training.
We talked about our upcoming album, "set to be in stores this fall, so stay on the lookout," I was sure to pair my advertisement with a smile.
"Oh, word? When can we expect to see y'all on the countdown?" The question was about a video.
Will didn't hesitate. "Yeah, we gettin' ready to shoot a video for our first single, in a couple of weeks matter'fact. The joint is called Sugar Hill, and it'll be comin' at your dome before you know it, word."
Eudora wasn't gonna be happy about that.
"No doubt," Tony co-signed.
They weren't gonna be happy about that either.
"A'ight, a'ight," Freddy nodded. "Well, check it, since we don't have a video from you all yet, how about you show the people just how you comin'?"
Damn, was it the end of the interview already?
Ishaan seized his moment first, and Tony followed. With Will always being our designated closer, I was next up to the plate.
Tony thankfully bought me a little time to catch my rhythm, giving more bars than the standard four Ishaan started off with. And with a hand on the small of my back, Tony gave gentle encouragement as he rounded off his rhymes.
And without hesitation, I snapped into my four bars.
"It's Cristal. Rappers prepare to meet their demise. I'm effective with protection when I say I got a surprise.. Open your eyes. No time to pray— goodbye. Countin money in chinchilla runnin' a chill up ya' spine."
"World is mine. Got all these people in a bind. It's stunnin'. See a fraud comin' even from behind," and Will was off to the races.
"Hundred miles and runnin'. Get the tools and start gunnin'. Let me tell you somethin'— you ain't sayin' nothin' wit' your fussin'. 'Bout to have me cussin'. Run 'em down like I'm rushin'. On a yard line when I'd rather bake you like a muffin, cousin...
"Iron Vacay... The steez is steel. We shine like 'Shaan, Tony, Cris, and keep it ill like Will."
And that was it.
I couldn't have put a more perfect bow on our debut.
We shoved each other around in pure excitement, Ishaan shaking Will himself as he continued talking shit to the camera.
"Live and direct, Yo! MTV. Iron Vacation keepin' it G. Shouts to Brooklyn, East New York, Queens!"
"No doubt, no doubt!" Freddy matched our energy. "Iron Vacation! Make sure y'all keep a look out for this group right here. Straight off Eudora Records."
Props were had. Freddy signed off.
Our collective celebration was short-lived.
Because once the adrenaline of live television dwindled down, we began to gear up for what would be the first week of our intensive studio quarantine.
Tonight would be our last night of freedom until we would finish the album.
So, I made the most of it.
I hit the club with Xena, getting recognized quite a few times throughout the night.
"You was on MTV earlier, right? Let me buy you a drink. Oh my gosh, can I take a picture wit'chu? Can I have an autograph?"
People didn't even know who I was yet, but they knew who I was destined to be... or maybe they just wanted to say they met somebody that was on TV.
Either way, I wasn't mad.
It was fun, getting to skip lines and get free drinks for me and my girl. I was finally starting to feel like the celebrity I dreamt myself up to be.
And the best part was that when I got home, I still got to be regular ol' Crystal, and I had a man waiting to give me such normalcy.
"Mace, what'chu doin' here?" I smiled, my keys jingling as I approached my apartment door. "You know you can't be camped out in the hallway. We are not in Brooklyn no more."
He laughed while holding up a VHS tape. "I saw you on TV, and I thought you'd wanna see yourself too."
"You taped it?"
"Yeah, of course," he chortled just as I popped open the door and entered my home.
"Wow, thanks. I don't even think Tiff taped it," I chuckled.
"Good thing I had a blank tape on hand," he followed me inside and locked the door.
My purse was slammed onto a counter as I hurriedly took off my heels.
"How was the club?"
"Baby, you should've seen it! 'You was just on Yo! MTV. Oh my God! Y'all's rap was fly. I bet you be kickin' it wit' Honey allll the time!'" I flung myself onto my sofa while he tended to the TV and VCR.
"Damn, they was jockin' you like that?" he grinned.
"Like that," I affirmed with a giggle.
"Well, I'm glad they recognize the skill. You know what I'm sayin'?"
"They ain't recognize shit but my face on their TV. They don't even know who I am."
"But they will. I mean— the album comes out in a few months. Y'all video is about to get shot."
"Yeah, if Eudora isn't pissed off by the stunt Will pulled."
"What stunt?"
"Blowin' up their spot like that! We ain't got shit comin', and now we probably never will since he said that we would."
"You might be trippin', mamas. If anything, it could've put pressure on the label to make somethin' happen. Will created a demand for y'all."
"Will created a problem for us."
Maceo found a spot on the couch, lifting my head before laying it on his thigh.
I kissed my teeth, turning onto my side so I could look at the TV. "Who puts a group on a video countdown show, when they ain't even got a video out anyway?"
Maceo laughed. "You ready to watch this or not?"
"Play it," I rolled my eyes, and soon enough, the title sequence of the show began.
Maceo fast forwarded until finally, the crew and I were centered.
Wow, look at us.
Look at me. Tiffany really did the hell out of my finger waves.
"Look at'chu," Maceo whispered in awe.
I gazed up at him, watching pride swell in his eyes.
It was almost odd.
So many times, I yearned to feel adequate. So many times, I felt like the only place I'd see my desires reflected would be in Will's eyes. And, here it was, coming from a man that was my greatest love and greatest heartache.
"Cristal, the Primadonna," he caressed my face with care. "I can't wait to see what the world has in store for you."
It was odd. It took me becoming a persona to get the very needs of my person met.
And, it's not even guaranteed that this source will be here for much longer. What a bittersweet moment.
"Mace... I saw Cavelli and Daniels, the last time you were here."
The pride dissolved within an instant. After a moment of closed eyes and slow breathing, his pupils were unveiled once again, this time with somber acceptance.
"I should've told you sooner—"
With a slight smile, he cut my sentence down with a query. "Is that why you've been pressing so hard about Tiff's situation? Because you feel like we don't have much time?"
I almost didn't want to admit it, but I did anyway.
"I wish you would've told me sooner," he said.
"I know."
"But it's okay. I know now, and that's all that matters."
His attention returned to the television just as Honey's latest video, a remix to a previous single, played. The remote raised as he hit the fast-forward button again.
"So, what are we gonna do?" I asked him as the tape winded.
"What else is there to do but to get my affairs in order, you know?"
"You don't wanna get out of the city? Or at least, lay low?"
"Baby, they came at you— what— almost a year ago? Been doin' sweeps all through the boroughs, and now they're poppin' up again? It's lookin' like it's a wrap."
"You gon' give up that easy?"
"I ain't got a way out, Cris, unless you want me dead instead."
"Don't talk like that," I mumbled, turning onto my side again.
"Sorry." The tape halted just as the camera resettled on me and my crew.
"I know this must be hard for you."
I folded my arms. "Yeah, it is hard for me, and you just actin' like this is nothin'."
"This was gonna end one way or another, Cris."
"There's always a way out, Mace."
"So, what I'ma do? Flip burgers? Go back to school? Work for Joe?"
Joe. Such a name hadn't entered my mind in what felt like centuries but the same bad taste settled on my tongue.
"We gotta be realistic, mamas. Even if I get out now, it's too late."
"So, what about us?" I couldn't even look at him right now, hoping that the longer I stared at myself on the screen, the easier it'd be to hold back tears.
"Crystal, please."
"What about us?" I repeated sternly.
"You tell me, baby. You know where I'll be waiting for you." He was defeated. Not in an exhausted all options way but in an I'm done talking about this way.
"You are unbelievable," I sat up and stormed into my bedroom.
He trailed me without hesitation.
"Cris, come on. It was only a matter of time, right? You knew what this shit came with."
"It's just not fair!"
"I know, baby."
"It isn't fair!" I repeated, finally turning to meet him head on.
He halted abruptly, seeming caught off guard by my quick change in direction. I marched up to him, urging him back as bittersweetness became just... bitter.
"I just started getting used to you being good to me, and now it's all being snatched away from me. It's not right."
He wanted to speak, but words were lost on him.
"All this fucking time! You had me on Greyhounds, bringing in work for you. You would beat me down in ways you don't even realize. You would make me feel so fuckin' small— so pathetic! And as soon as you find the decency to treat me the way I've begged you to for years... you're just ready to be whisked off to the pen?"
He started taking my hands into his, a futile attempt at comfort.
My eyes daggered into his, "You are not leaving me without a fight... otherwise, what was it all for?"
He sighed deeply, hanging his head as he avoided my gaze.
"What was it all for, Maceo? Huh?"
"I'm sorry I didn't make better use of our time, but all I can do now is try to make the most of the time we have left."
I scoffed. "You might as well go turn yourself in, since you just waitin' around for the other shoe to drop. What's holdin' you up?"
"You know the only way I'll ever leave you is by force, Crystal."
"Oh, please, Maceo," I almost laughed, ripping my hands from his.
"You know it's true."
I turned my back on him, beginning to feel like I needed to be alone with my thoughts.
"I love you, Cris... I love you enough not to put you through the bullshit of fighting a losing game."
"And yet here I am, doing just that!"
Silence danced around us, amplifying our emotions. The drinks I had earlier weren't helping either.
I was becoming just as defeated as he was, but in an emotionally spent way.
"Look... if you don't wanna see me anymore, I totally understand, and to be honest... we need to put as much distance between us as possible because if they don't get me soon, they'll be comin' to your doorstep again... and like you said, this ain't Brooklyn, so I don't think it'd be a good look to have detectives camping out in your hallway."
"Whatever," I murmured with folding arms.
He took slow steps toward me. His hands fell onto my shoulders, gripping them softly as I was pulled back against his chest.
A kiss of death was pressed against my temple, but it was the tears that really shoved the remnants of our love affair into a grave.
He escorted himself out after professing his love one last time.
And, that was the last time I saw him as a free man.
I threw myself into my work. Pages and pages and pages of rhymes written to never see the light of day.
Melancholy made me quiet as hard beats rocked the studio.
Even in the personable moments of the only men left in my life giving their half-assed condolences — I heard about what happened to ya' mans, yo. Sorry about that. Fifteen years ain't so bad though, right?— I was out of reach.
Tony seemed to be going through his own shit too— him and his baby mama broke up again— so Will was really the engine that kept things going in the beginning of our studio lockdown.
We were hard at work— well, the three of us were, but Ishaan was AWOL.
We were supposed to be locking in the world's first impression of us, but as a two-day absence turned into a two-and-a half-week one, it became clear that Ishaan was losing his judgment.
"Ishaan? Yeah, he's taking a break," was the only information I had on him, and that came from Will.
"A break? The fuck he need a break for?" I erupted, this being the first time since my scuffle with Ishaan that I raised my voice in the studio.
"My man just got sent to Riker's. I should be having a fucking break! How come he always gets to do what he wants? We all agreed that we would lock in for the next two months, and where the fuck is he? On a break!"
"Yo, chill—"
"William Mc-fucking-Kay, do not tell me to chill out. I swear to God, if those words come out of your mouth, I will deck you so hard in ya' face, you will feel it in ya' balls."
He didn't want to take his chances, so nothing else fled his lips.
"Didn't he just get back from a month-long break. I mean, what the fuck! He talkin' about how I be leavin' y'all in the dust, but look at him!"
All of the pent up anger of my situation— Maceo being gone, my inability to have Tiff in my custody, being abandoned by the same nigga that basically called me an egocentric bitch just off the thought of me doing what he's doing right now— was being funneled into nothing else but this so-called "break."
"Well, fuck it! I need a break too! Fuck it!" my rhyme book was slammed onto the soundboard before I left the studio to cool off.
I paced the alleyway, the growing heat of summer only keeping me at my boiling point.
I was only alone for a few minutes before I got some unrequested company.
Antonio.
"What? I'm actin' too emotional right now?" I scoffed.
He shook his head, leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his baggy shorts.
My pacing continued as he withdrew his hands and presented a blunt and a lighter.
"Smoke this wit' me," was his official peace offering.
With reluctance— fueled by my desire to remain mad— I accepted.
We sat in my Jeep, enjoying the breeze of an A/C while pushing herb back and forth.
"Stephen told you about the video?" he asked, relaxing in the reclined passenger seat.
"What about the video?"
"That they greenlit Will's idea, after seeing the Yo! MTV interview," he scoffed.
"No way," I almost laughed.
"Yeah," his dimples making an appearance even through the haze.
"Mace said that would happen," I shook my head.
"Word?"
"Yeah, he said that Will created a demand while puttin' pressure on the label."
"Yeah, well... one thing about Mace, he was pretty a'ight when it came to business and shit."
"I guess so," I shook my head.
"By the way... I'm sorry about—"
"Please don't," I already knew this was going to segue into condolences. "It was only a matter of time, right?"
"I mean... yeah, but it's still fucked up... like, that could've been me."
"Yeah, but you took your way out. He didn't."
"Maybe he didn't feel like he had one," he shrugged.
"Yeah, maybe."
"So, what's up? You went to see him yet?"
"No... not that it's any of your business."
"My bad... I just know it's hard for niggas that's bidding, especially in the beginning... Bein' away from their lady and all'at."
"Yeah, well... it's kinda hard visiting somebody that broke up wit'chu before you even got the chance to bid wit'em."
"Don't take it personal."
"What'chu mean? He broke up with me, Antonio!" I was fighting off a laugh. I'm not supposed to take a breakup personally? That sounded contradictory.
"He was probably protectin' you... I'd do the same shit."
"No one ever protects me, at least not when it counts."
"Maybe this is the one time it does."
"You're just gonna disagree with everything I say, huh?"
He laughed. "I like to think I'm makin' some pretty good points here."
"Whatever, yo... Got my Jeep smellin' like weed and shit. Where'd you even get that from? Smokin' is not your vice."
"But it's yours though, right?" He smiled.
I scoffed. "Look at'chu, actually bein' a friend and remembering details about your group mates."
"I've been workin' on my interpersonal people skills," he grinned with wiggling eyebrows.
I laughed. "Boy, get'cho high ass— come on, let's go."
My keys were pulled from the ignition, and we returned to the studio in high spirits.
Music was made. Video location permit requests were filed, and a date for the video was set.
I drafted my first letter to send to Maceo. It wasn't anything comparable to seeing him in person, but it was a start. Besides, I don't know if I was ready to physically see him in that circumstance yet.
Studio days ran together, especially once sleeping bags and blankets became a mainstay. We were gettin' real close to narrowing down songs while fleshing out the ones that were skeletons.
Will, always inspired, fell in love with a new beat that had no home.
It had a soft GAP Band sample and a bassline that made me feel the same way Sugar Hill did. Will even made a hook that proved to be prolific, one that he wanted Antonio to lay down.
Shit was shaping up for I.V.'s debut. We might not even need the entire summer, like we initially thought.
We were knocking out so many songs that we could put out a double album, if we really wanted to.
All the while, Ishaan was nowhere to be found, and we wouldn't find him until tragedy struck.
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author's note: the rhymes featured in their Yo! MTV Raps freestyle were inspired by and drawn from Busta Rhymes' verse on Leaders of the New School's "What's Next." Watch the music video below.