October 1997 :
Ava –
As we all hoped and prayed, we came out on top with our second album, True Story. It debuted at number one, and stayed at number one for a month and a half before we were bumped down to number three. That wasn't bad at all, considering our label had put nothing behind us on our initial release day. All that any of us could say was thank God the fans were listening when we announced the date, and thank God they came out and showed out in numbers.
And since we'd proven MCA wrong, once again, they had no choice but to up the ante on the promotional front. Commercials, more appearances and interviews, contests for fans, an extension to the tour we already had planned out, and so much more so that we could get every opportunity possible out of this go 'round. There were already big talks for awards we could take home once award season began, and of course MTV, BET, and other companies were reaching out to add us to their performance rosters for all shows they had coming up.
More guest appearances on TV for all of us, along with me doing the show I'd done the theme song for. Some big artists were asking us to join them on their national tours, there was no hip magazine that we weren't featured in, and of course we made our trip across seas to appear on Top Of The Pops and a few other English shows.
We were in high demand, and this time, for the first time, we got to move into having our own special merchandise outside of sweatshirts sold at shows, pictures, and tour books.
"I know I say it every day, but I'm so proud of you girls. Not only have you all been in the top ten and top five steadily since mid-August, not only are you all garnering positive reviews and accolades, the great amount of buzz about AMAs, Grammys, STAs, and so many other awards; you're all getting your own freaking dolls!"
We looked at Brandy and smiled. "Crazy how they want to create dolls out of us."
"Even crazier how they'll actually look like us; the representation. Man, I cannot wait to see little brown and black faces holding up a Troy doll and telling their mother or father how they love having something that looks like them. That was always something I wished I could do as a kid."
Torii laughed, agreeing with Troy. "Right. I mean, they were cool, and I loved all of my Barbies, but I wanted to see a sista from Malibu with a dope job, a 401k plan, a bomb ass ride and a nice house. Oh, and instead of Ken, she had a Malik by her side, handling business of his own as a highly respected African-American doctor or lawyer. Black dolls period were so rare, and I absolutely hated the ones that looked like they came straight out of the war eras, just thrown together to 'satisfy'."
Brandy looked among all of us. "I'm just glad somebody at Mattel is getting the bigger picture. You guys getting a doll, Brandy, and a few others. These will be collectors' items, I'm certain. I know for certain, I've got to get one of each before they sell out. You all plan on sending your personal dolls back home to your parents to keep, right?"
Torii and Troy both nodded, while Leann announced that she was going to keep hers with her in the apartment that she would be getting soon. I just shook my head. "What are you going to do with yours, Ava?"
I looked at Brandy, clearing my throat as my phone began ringing. "Definitely not sending it to my parents. Knowing my mother, she'd probably set it on fire and watch my face melt." I shrugged, standing and excusing myself as I pulled my Motorolla StarTAC 70 out of my pocket.
I preferred it over the larger mobile phones, thought it was cute how they finally came up with something small enough to fit in your pocket, but still efficient enough to dial and talk on. Not to mention, having my own line and not having to wait for someone else to finish talking or having to search all over for a payphone; it was a life saver, and definitely a great investment.
As I stepped out of the room where we were having our makeup done for our appearance on some random soap opera, as singers at a wedding; I smiled to myself, lowering my voice. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
Todd chuckled, and I could sense that he was smiling, shaking his head probably. "Kind of hard to focus when my mind is on you. I know you're busy, but I was just calling to hear your voice."
Leaning against a wall, I pushed my hair behind my ears and looked down at the floor for a few seconds. "You're acting like we didn't just see one another two nights ago."
"I know we did, and every time I think about it, I miss you more. I really don't know what it is about you Ava, don't know what this whole change in my personality is, the way that I feel now that you're in my life, but I love it."
"Still feel wrong about it?"
"A little, but what's done is done and I'm not going to act as if I want to take any of it back now. We're both grown, we know what's up."
"Yeah, we do. I miss you too Todd, and as soon as I get back to LA, you'll be the first to know. Maybe when we see one another, we can actually go out and do something productive with our time. I mean, I don't want to think that all we have together is sex with a few nice moments here and there. That's fine, but... well, it's no secret between you and I that I feel something a little deeper."
"You know it's so much more than that. And anything you want to do, Baby, I'm cool with. Call me when you get some free time, and I'll see you for sure when you get back."
I nodded, for my own benefit, saying goodbye before I hung up and sighed.
Once we got through recording our scene, we had to rush out of the CBS studios and head straight to San Diego for an impromptu performance that Chauncey purposefully forgot to tell us about just because he was mad at Brandy, for whatever reason.
Normally, we'd have time to change in a dressing room provided by the venue, but we didn't have that luxury this time. We struggled in the semi-small space between our bunks on the back of the tour bus, reaching over and passing by one another as we tried to find our correct clothing, shoes, and accessories. Troy, who'd decided that her backup plan for the future would be cosmetology, got our hair together before Torii hooked up our makeup, and in record time we dashed off the bus once we stopped and ran directly to the stage; making it just as they were about to begin our introductions.
Cutting it close was not the correct phrase for what we'd gone through, but they sure wouldn't be able to say that we failed to show up for or complete an obligation. We'd learned early on, on account of MCA and Chauncey's mistakes, that paying back for breaking a contract was not a hassle we needed in our lives more than once.
Walking on stage after we were announced, we all waved and took quick bows before stepping behind the microphones that they had set up for us. For the first fifteen minutes or so, things went along great, considering we had no time to do a sound check or warmup. In spite of a few technical difficulties with the microphones and sound, we did what we did best; giving our crowd a performance worth talking about. We sang a little louder when necessary, kicked up the energy when we felt the momentum dropping, due to those technical difficulties, and we even did some crowd participation to keep a good vibe between us and them.
And then, once another twenty minutes passed, something changed. Though she was on the right end of the stage, singing to a little boy that was being held up by his father; I could hear this small change in Troy's voice. It wasn't anything that made her sound terrible, but I knew it was something that she'd recognize herself and get mad over.
When I glanced in her direction, she was standing up straight, struggling a little, before she shook it off and went back to singing as flawlessly as she usually did. But, I heard it again when she tried to slip into her whistle, and before the rest of us could blink or think, Troy fell back. Thankfully, she was right next to Leann by this point.
Catching Troy, she quickly called for Kyrie while the band behind us stopped. The crowd was completely silent, watching as we all knelt beside Troy, trying to make sure she was okay. "What the hell happened?"
That was Chauncey, standing around and pacing back and forth as if he actually gave a damn about her wellbeing. "Sis, come on and stop playing. I know you're tired, but this ain't funny." When Troy didn't say anything, make any type of noise, blink or move; Torii grew more concerned. "Troy, come on and get up. Get up!"
Kyrie asked us all to step back and carefully took her into his arms, carrying her off stage as Chauncey made an apology for the delay. We were just about to run behind Kyrie, had made it off to the side of the stage when Chauncey cleared his throat and swiftly stepped in front of us. "Where are y'all going? You've got a show to finish."
Immediately, I could see the disgust in Torii's eyes. "Are you serious?! My sister just passed out, where the hell do you think I'm going?"
She brushed past him and he turned to us. "My God, I swear this girl is just out to ruin me."
"Chauncey, no one passes out or fakes passing out just to hurt you and whatever you got going on."
"Then what's wrong with her?!"
"If we knew, we would have been able to prevent this, don't you think? We'll pay the fine or whatever, but right now Troy is more important." Leann and I both stepped past him, running to catch up.
Leann -
Standing beside her, helping her to take sips of water, I smiled and lightly laughed at Troy and her frustration over being babied. Truthfully, I was just glad and thankful that she was feeling better, and going to be just fine. At least, that's what the doctors were saying.
Currently, we were watching the news, though she insisted that we turn to something else.
"And in entertainment news at the top of this hour; today in San Diego, lead singer of Fly Girl, Troy Mercier 'caused a bit of panic and concern among her bandmates, friends, and fans when she passed out mid-performance. Just hours before they'd been spotted in Studio City at the CBS studios, shooting for a guest spot on All My Children, and according to the actors on set, all seemed to be well. They said the girls, including Troy, were in pleasant spirits, full of energy. While no details have been given, some have suggested that perhaps exhaustion has finally caught up with her and her groupmates, and she's just the first to show signs that it's time for a well-deserved break. The teenage Grammy winners have been going nonstop since their debut in late 1995, and clearly, until today, they showed absolutely no signs of stopping or slowing down. From national and international tours, to numerous guest appearances on many of today's most popular sitcoms, dramas, and soap operas... along with promotion for their debut and sophomore albums... those girls have been working their butts off."
The anchor turned to her co-anchor and he nodded his head in agreement. "And they're all so tiny, Melissa. My daughters are fans and we've seen them live about four times; beautiful young ladies, excellent performers but they're so, so small so I've always had a little concern about whether or not they have someone around them helping to keep them on a good health regimen, one that will help them. I'm thinking exhaustion as well. As teenagers, they're still on that line of being kids and being adults, and there's a line and limit that entertainers overlook when trying to give their all to their fans. Add on the stresses of still trying to find themselves. School, which I believe Troy is currently a senior in high school, and whatever else goes on behind the scenes of creating what Fly Girl is; essentially, perfection and great models for teens... things such as this incident are sometimes bound to happen. Thankfully, when they happen, they give a chance for doctors to catch things early on. I'm not going to wish anything serious on her, I believe she's going to pull through fairly quickly, I just hope that she takes great care of herself, and they allow all four girls to get a bit more rest. While we love and appreciate them for what they do, my family and I always pray for their safety and health because that's what matters more than anything."
"I couldn't agree more, John, and you are so right. Prayers for a speedy recovery for Troy Mercier, and we'll be sure to keep you up to date as more details come our way. As it stands, the remainder of the Fly Girl show in San Diego has been postponed, with plans to reschedule, as her friends and groupmates have requested to sit by her side. I think that itself is wonderful. There's talks of their next two weeks of shows being postponed as well, but again, we will have full details for you as they come our way. We'll be right back."
"Please turn to Jeopardy or something else."
I smiled, sitting the glass of water down on her food tray after she pushed it away. "Are you tired, Troy?"
She looked at me for a second. "Yeah, but it's not from touring or anything." She sighed. "I don't know what happened, Leann. One moment I was fine, and then it felt like something got stuck in my throat while I was singing. I was fine again, but that second time I just felt my throat closing up and I couldn't breathe. My back started aching, and then my legs gave out. I don't know why I actually passed out though; that's what scares me. Not knowing."
"Maybe you're just overworked and now your body is telling you to calm down."
She looked at me again. "What do we do that could really tire me out though?"
"Girl, are you kidding? We have a whole routine where we dance for six minutes straight, and some nights we double it because certain crowds like the semi-techno and house music aspect of it. You're telling me that twelve minutes of dancing, along with two and half hours of performing... six, sometimes seven nights a week for eight weeks at a time doesn't wear you out?"
Troy shook her head. "It doesn't. I stay ready for it."
"Chile, you're good. I got tired breaking down the numbers for you."
She chuckled but I sighed, leaning over to hug her. "Just promise that whatever the doctors tell you after they review all of your tests, promise you'll take whatever it is seriously, and do whatever they ask."
"Sure, I would... if there was a guarantee that Chauncey wouldn't say screw the doctors and their orders, we've got shows. You know he's the second coming of Ike Turner." I covered my mouth, refusing to laugh once she started mocking him. "Now, now, now look-a here, we got... we got six shows, and you gon' get up on that stage and sing the way I told you. Ava, better get your Straight Outta Mexico lookin' ass together and hit them notes. Bet not miss one. And Leann, they should've named that New Orleans Wobble dance after you. Better get them legs straight and dance like you know how. You'll get fined or be on the first greyhound back to the West Bank, or whichever broke bank you came from." Tears were literally rolling down my face because she had Chauncey's somewhat high, yodel-ish voice mixed with Laurence Fishburne's Ike Turner voice down to legit perfection. "And Torii..." Torii looked up, wiping her own tears as she laughed silently from the chair she was sitting in. "Torii, you could go out there with that high yella fool on ya mind, but he gon' cost you your spot. I hope you know that. I hope you know. Better sing that shit the way I taught ya. I made ya, so I know how you supposed to sound. Better get that boy off ya mind, focus on them lyrics. And Troooooy," So much disgust dripped from the way she said her own name. At this point, I couldn't hold back. Bent over, I leaned against the small rail of her hospital bed, trying to catch my breath. "You know I hate your ass, but they won't get rid of you. You, you, y-you just better sing that damn song the right way. Don't think I won't fly on stage and snatch that mic from you and make you start over. I'll embarrass you. I'll do it."
"Please, stop. I can't take no more."
She smirked, coughing a little before she started speaking in her normal voice again. "But am I lying?"
I shook my head, feeling thankful for the knock on the door. Brandy walked in, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers. "Hey Sweetie, feeling better?"
Troy nodded, holding her left arm up as best as she could. "Whatever this is in this IV, it's got me feeling great. But really, I don't want y'all to fuss over me. It happened, and I'm fine. I'll be at a hundred percent and ready to go tomorrow."
Brandy shook her head, setting the flowers down before she stood on the other side of Troy's bed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't think so, Troy. It took your Dad convincing Chauncey and the heads of the label, since no one wants to listen to me, but you girls are all getting a three week break."
"For what? It's like they said on the news; exhaustion. I bet."
"Maybe so, but there could be something else, Troy. You all need a break anyway, and I promise that everyone will understand. Relax, for me?"
Troy nodded. "Fine. And thank you all so much for being here for me."
I smiled. "Of course Troy, that's what family is for." I took her hand in mine, sitting next to her on the bed once she let me know that it was okay to do so.
Once Troy was given the okay to go home, we made our way back to Los Angeles and set her up at the apartment. Since he'd taken off to fly in and see about her, Mr. Mercier insisted that we all, Torii included, get out and enjoy ourselves and our breaks. While being safe, of course.
He appreciated us all stepping up to sit around the apartment and get Troy whatever she needed, but he also wanted to be there for a good bit of the time to ensure that she actually rested, and to ensure that Chauncey didn't come around with his usual bull.
Since we'd been penciled in to begin working on the details and a few new tracks for the third album, since they wanted to ride the Fly Girl momentum, finally, I decided to go with Ava to the studio to get some of our ideas in early.
Once again, we were being give more creative control and direction, and I wanted to try my hand at arranging something. Just to see if I could do it. With Todd, thankfully, our studio time was always free so we could sit and play around for as long as we pleased. In the end, we always came out with something extra; whether we ended up sharing it, or keeping it to ourselves. There were always extra vocals and tracks from each and every session.
I was nodding my head to the beat of a song with an instrumental that I felt could be a part of a great interlude. Either in a sample, flipped, or using the actual instrumental itself as is. "What do you know about White Rabbit and Jefferson Airplane, Leann? I didn't take you for the Psychedelic and Rock type."
I looked at Todd, smirking for a second before I focused back on the song. "You'd be surprised at what all I actually like. Though, if you could possibly get the rights to White Rabbit and Jimi Hendrix's version of Hey Joe... man, I've got this idea for something that could be completely different from what we're known for."
"You think that would fly with MCA, and the fans."
"Maybe, maybe not. But I don't mean for a single. Just an interlude, or a song that's just on the album track list. Or, maybe a hidden track. I just got this idea and a good feeling about it." I turned my chair and looked directly at him as he nodded his head, mouthing the lyrics. "Didn't you tell us in the very beginning to always trust our instincts?"
"Sure, I did."
"Alright. Ava's instincts got us a Grammy. Two of Troy's got us Soul Train Award nominations. Torii's got us a song produced by Montel Jordan, and it got an open invitation to do a song with Keith Sweat. I've got a good feeling. And why shouldn't we branch out and try something different. We're still growing, and we have to get out of that teen vibe sooner or later. Why not inch out of it more and more with each album. By the time we put this one out, Troy will be nineteen, or nearing twenty, so why should we still be doing 90s version of bubble gum pop? The point is to move forward, not backwards. We want to keep doing better."
He stroked his chin, nodding his head. "Alright, you've got that. And I tell you what, you've got co-producing and writing credits when you come up with something. I'll see about securing the rights. Just make sure it's something that Chauncey will like."
"Yessss! Thanks Todd. This is why I love working with you."
"Ha, gotta give my girls what they want. That's how we make magic."
I nodded, saying a quick okay when he announced that he was stepping out for a smoke.
As time passed, I played around with the mixing console, eventually teaching myself how to remove vocals and tweak different parts of the beat. It was fun to see bits and pieces of my idea come to fruition, and I was beginning to understand why Raymond and Marliss enjoyed this aspect of working on the album more than they actually enjoyed singing and rapping.
While some always claimed it was stressful, I found it to be relaxing. Moving back and forth between my notebook and the console, I'd written a little interlude. Something we could either say or sing with a remixed version of the instrumental playing in the background. I knew for sure that I wanted Troy singing something like remember what your loved ones said... kind of like a little reminder to keep ourselves, and others listening focused. Of course, this was just a first draft, but I was beyond confident in my work and myself.
I jumped up, doing a little dance before I grabbed my pen and notebook and left the studio to go and find Todd so that I could show him.
Walking down the halls, I spoke to one of the janitors that was making his usual pit stop on the fifth floor and excused myself as I stepped around where he was sweeping. Passing other studio rooms, I could hear others singing, working on different things.
Making it to the end of the hall, when I saw that he hadn't stepped out on to the fifth floor balcony, I turned around and headed back, remembering quickly that he had an office he'd just started using when he'd bought the studio after moving back to the states to live fulltime while he worked with us. It was right next door to the studio, and that was probably where I should have checked first.
Stopping at the door, I knocked lightly, barely letting my knuckles tap the door because sometimes I could be heavy handed and go a little too far. I knocked again, this time a little harder, finally hearing something. Thinking that he gave me the okay to walk in, I opened the door, peeking my head in to see something I wish I hadn't.
Closing the door behind me, softly, before he or Ava could look up, I shook my head in total disbelief. Now I couldn't give two rats' asses what people do in their private lives, but I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that Ava would not only cheat on her husband, but to screw the producer. She could do as she pleases, I suppose, but I'm not here for favoritism if this is the type of crap that's about to begin.