(a week later)
DeVante.
We all sat in the studio, recording the last track of the Sista album which included Mary, K-Ci, and Virgina putting down some vocals.
Missy had written a song and told me she wanted to put it on the album so, here we were, working together to make it happen. As usual, she never disappoints me with her creativity. The track was phat.
La'Shawn and Mary had already done the first verse. Really, I only wanted Mary's ass on the track. I should've listened to Rhonda a while back when she was tryna' remove her stupid ass from the group. I shook my head at my thoughts, sitting at the soundboard as Missy stood inside of the booth, her body tense while she adjusted the headphones over her ears and cleared her throat. She gave me a nod to let me know she was ready so I played the track back and watched as she sung her part for the chorus.
"The feel of your lips, the touch of your hands, the warmth of our bodies. No one will understand."
She repeated it again, her eyes landing on me as she sang the second time around. Why the hell is she looking at me? Gon' make shit obvious. I cupped my chin within the purlicue of my right hand, growing agitated and feeling stares from Tornado and Tim but I ignored it, deciding to entertain her since she was carelessly showing interest in me.
Smirking slightly, I leaned back in my chair, shifting my lower half to get comfortable while thrusting my pelvis upward and running my tongue over my lips.
She quickly adverts her gaze to my lap as she started to go into the verse, "Come on, baby. Let me rub your skin. 'Cause tonight is the night true love begins. Imagine the love, that we could share. Now or an hour later, I won't care."
I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head while I turned around in my chair to look at Virginia, gesturing for her to go in next because the more Missy stayed in that booth singing to me, the more Tim would catch on to whatever the fuck was going on between us. Really it wasn't anything going on, but you know women. Always getting emotionally attached after one encounter and shit. I didn't mind it, though. I was used to getting that kind of attention from women, especially the ones I worked with.
Once Missy came out of the booth, we made brief eye contact before she walked past me to sit in Tim's lap. Typical. I whistled awkwardly, spinning back around in my chair before playing the track back for Virginia so that she could add her vocals on top of Missy's. All the while, I could hear mumbles beside me, assuming he was asking her about what whole staring ordeal. After all, she wasn't being discrete.
I sighed, seeing movement in my peripheral before feeling a tap on my shoulder, glancing up to see Tim standing beside me with his jaws clenched. Here we go.
"What the fuck goin' on, D?", he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, "Nothin'. Recordin' this track. What it look like?"
"You know what I mean", he replied dryly, clearly becoming annoyed with my sarcasm but I continued to act as if I didn't know what he was referring to.
I shook my head, "I really don't."
"Yes the fuck you do! And you gon' tell'em!", Tornado blurted out as he stepped from around Tim with his chest puffed out.
I dragged out a dry laugh while looking at the both of them before slowly rising from chair, kicking it so that it rolled backwards along the carpeted floors, no longer in the way as I stepped forward, my eyes focused on Tornado, "Look. I don't know who the fuck you think you talkin' to but you might wanna' be a bit more careful wit' how you approach me because right now, you crossin' the line, b."
"I'm talkin' to y—"
Before he could finish his sentence, I had raised my arm up and swung it downward, the back of my hand striking him against the side of his face, causing his head to jerk in the opposite direction in which the force came from. His skin turned red in an instant as he took in what just happened, his motions coming to a halt.
"Mothafucka", he said in almost a whisper while he rested his hand against the side of his face. Suddenly, he attempted to charge at me but was caught by Tim whose arm blocked him from coming any closer, holding him back.
"Calm down, calm down!", Tim yelled while everybody gathered around to see what was going on, Virginia no longer singing–just standing in the booth, staring at us in shock.
Missy had a hold on Tornado, too. Honestly, I wanted them to let him go. I been waiting to let out some frustration, anyway. A good fight could be what I needed.
Static walked over to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, "Breathe, man. Whatever went down ain't worth the crew splittin' up. Y'all need to cut this shit out. Apologize to each other or somethin'."
"Man, fuck this nigga. He can twirl his El Debarge lookin' ass at 30 mph until he's out of this damn studio. Kinda' name is Tornado anyway? You look like a fuckin' haboob. Dusty ass bitch'", I spat, the veins in my neck visible while Static kept one hand on my shoulder and another against my chest to keep me from stepping closer.
Mary sighed, looking at me with her arms folded over her chest, "What happened anyway?"
"He slapped me!", Tornado blurted before I could even answer, which pissed me off even more causing me to jump at him and he quickly stepped back while Tim stretched his free arm out between us but Tornado kept talking anyhow. "See! This nigga crazy!"
K-Ci smacked on his taco as he sat on the couch watching us, chiming in, "It's about time somebody slapped yo' ass."
Mary shot him a look and he shrugged, taking another bite of his taco, followed by chewing and the shaking of his head.
"D, you can't just go around slappin' people", Rolita said as she frowned a little, glancing over at a terrified Tornado.
I kissed my teeth, "And why hell not? He comin' at me crazy and I can't defend myself?"
"You can defend yourself without hittin' somebody", she replied, her eyes full of disappointment as she focused on me.
I wasn't in the mood to hear some long ass lecture so I just nodded my head, allowing them to think I agreed to anything they said.
"Man, aight. Whatever. We gon' finish the track or not?", I inquired, glancing around the room at everyone as they stared at me, speechless. I sighed, "Y'all niggas buggin'. I gotta' go make a run. Stat, you comin'?" He nodded, going to grab his hat and I grabbed my cellphone, pushing it into my front pocket before brushing past Rolita and Mary, "Excuse me."
"D, where you goin'?", Rolita asked as her eyes followed me, her face of concern. Why the fuck did she care so much?
I waited until I got to the door, not really answering her question, "I'll be back." And with that, I walked out, accompanied by Static who seemed to be the only one the crew who wasn't acting shady toward me.
***
With all the pressure that was on me, I had gone months without the proper amount of sleep along with meals. As much as I tried not to let it stress me out, it just wasn't working. I had to put the final touches on Sista's album, deciding that I would just let La'Shawn stay on this album but remove her from the group once it was over and done with. The legal shit was taking too long to finalize but hopefully it would be done by the time the album was released.
I arrived to Suge's label office to pick up my check, which I was supposed to get in March but never received. It was already bad enough that he was tryna' pressure me into removing my name from the credits of the soundtrack and now he was holding my money. I wasn't too sure how this was gonna' go but I wasn't about to sit back and get played like the rest of the niggas on his label. He was cool and all, but business wise, he wasn't professional nor fair for that matter. Worse than Puffy, to be honest and I never thought I'd say that. I wasn't surprised, though. He was Suge Knight. Which is the exact reason why I won't sign to Death Row. I allowed him to manage Jodeci the past few months and was really starting to regret it, wishing I would've stuck to my gut and had not even affiliated myself with him.
I took one last pull from my blunt as I sat inside my car, talking to Mike, who was in the backseat, listening to me rant.
"Man, I ain't never seen nobody do the shit Suge has done. That nigga is on a whole 'nother level of crazy. For real", I said, handing the blunt over to Static who just nodded in agreement.
Mike laughed a little, seeming unbothered by Suge's street credit and horror stories, "Even hood niggas got fears, DeVantè. Don't let him make you think he's invincible or some shit."
"You gotta' point", I admitted, just ready to get this shit over with. I knew getting Suge to give me my money wasn't going to be an easy process, which is why I brought Mike with me. Mike Tyson, that is. Static was just around because he wanted to be. For some reason, he really looked up to me. I noticed it back when I first met Playa in 91' and they sung Boyz II Men for me. I was feeling so type of way so I had them sing one of our songs, gave them my pager number, and they started blowing me up and breathing on my phone. It was all good, though. But since then, Static has always been a shadow of mine, following me wherever I go. I admit, at first it was annoying but I get it. He considers me his big brother. Shit, Dalvin does me the same way, so it is what it is.
"Y'all ready?", I inquired, glancing around the car at Mike and Static and they both nodded. I climbed out of the car along with Mike while Static put out the blunt, climbing out few seconds later. We walked toward the building and my heart was pounding, unsure of what could possibly happen once we make it inside.
With Suge, you never knew what to expect but always expect the worst.
We headed into the building, going directly to the lounge area where we saw him sitting down on the couch with a girl kneeled down in front of him, giving him oral. Usually I wouldn't be too distraught but the difference in this case was that he had a gun to the woman's head and she was crying, snot running from her nostrils as she peered over at us with a desire to ask for help. Sorry, bitch. We got our own problems with Suge.
I cleared my throat and he glanced over in my direction, smiling once he seen it was me, "Ay, lil' nigga. What's up?"
It was hard to even attempt to hold a conversion with him while he was still sitting there with her head in his lap as if he didn't have company. "Nothin' much, g. Just came to talk to you 'bout somethin'", I replied in more of a mumble, feeling awkward with my eyes focused on the female who looked like she wanted to run like hell even though she kept going down on him.
He followed my gaze, smirking as he chuckled, "Oh, you want some of this?" He gestured toward the woman with the hand that held the gun, causing her to flinch.
"Oh, nah! Nah, I'm–I'm straight. I got some this mornin'", I responded, knowing damn well that wasn't true. He ain't have to know that, though.
He nodded his head, sitting up, "Aight." Suddenly, he struck the woman across the temple with the gun and she cried out, falling over onto the carpet, "Move, bitch." He slowly stood up from the couch and we all turned our head in different directions to avoid getting a glimpse of his lower half. Once we heard his zipper, we exchanged looks with each other before looking at him. He buckled his belt, walking over toward us, "So, what's up? I see you brought company. Care to introduce me to ya' friends?"
"Oh! This is Static, one of my artists. You know him already. And of course you know Mike", I announced, gesturing toward them both. He nodded and they reluctantly shook his hand, unsure what kind of germs he had on them. "Listen, I came to pick up my check from the work I did on the soundtrack. I never received it. Decided to drop by while I was out makin' runs", I said, shoving my hands into my front pockets as I looked at him, intently watching his face. He furrowed his eyebrows like he wasn't sure what I was talking about so I played along, concealing my frustration, "The tracks I produced for H-Town and B-Rezell." He still looked confused. I kissed my teeth, sighing heavily, "Suge, you know what I'm talkin' about. I've done everything you asked me to do. What you holdin' on to my money for?"
"Holdin' on to what money? We already discussed the credits, D. What's the deal?", he inquired, his shoulders hunched and arms slightly stretched out with his palms facing upwards
I clenched my jaw, taking a deep breath to calm myself before speaking, "I never agreed to remove my name from the credits. You know that. So, what'chu talkin' about?"
"You don't have to agree. It's my decision and this is how business is ran at Death Row if you ain't notice. I suggest you get with the program or be removed, if you know what I mean", he said with a sly smirk on his face. Was this nigga threatenin' me?
Before I could say anything, Mike stepped forward, making intense eye contact with Suge, "Whoa, now. As far as this whole Death Row contract agreement, he ain't signed to you. I don't give a damn how you 'handle business', that ain't got shit to do with him. If he ain't agree to removin' his name then you ain't removin' his fuckin' name. Now, you may intimidate these young niggas but me?" He laughed, stepping closer, "Nah. I seen plenty of industry thugs like you comin' out of nowhere tryna' run people but guess what? DeVantè ain't one of 'em." By this time, he was directly in front of Suge, grilling him down, "So what's it gon' be? You gon' bring him his check or am I gon' have to handle it myself?"
"What you gon' do? Sue me? Take me to court?", Suge asked, laughing as he glanced over at me then back at Mike, soon raising the gun and pressing it against his head. "In case you ain't notice, we handle shit a lot different 'round here."
"Who said anything about gettin' the law involved?" Mike didn't flinch or blink, still keeping his gaze on Suge while he lifted his hand to the gun, taking the safety off, "If you gon' do it, do it. Mark ass nigga. But you better make a decision quick or I'm knockin' ya' fuckin' teeth out if you don't stop pointin' this shit at me. In 5...4...3...2..."
Suge put the safety back on, lowering the gun and releasing a nervous laugh, nodding his head, "Okay, so what? Now you his bodyguard?"
"I'll be whatever I need to be. Just know that if you cross him again or give him any kind of bullshit, I'ma pay you a visit. And next time, I won't be as nice", Mike said and Suge remained silent, slowly backing away before turning around to go into his office, coming back out with an envelope moments later and handing it over to Mike, who handed it back. "Do I look like DeVantè to you?"
With a tight smile, Suge walked over toward me, handing me the thick envelope and I took it.
"Check it to make sure it's all there", Mike said to me but he didn't break his gaze from Suge who was currently sweating bullets.
I just nodded, opening the envelope and counting the money, "It's all there."
"Aight. Then I guess we're done here. Pleasure doin' business with you", Mike said to Suge, nudging us toward the door and we complied, walking to the exit and he followed behind us, still looking over his shoulder to make sure Suge didn't try anything. Once we were outside, I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
"Yoo, did you see that? Mike got all Scarface on his ass. Had Suge shaking like a stripper", Static said with excitement, getting into car as did I and Mike, laughing at him.
Something told me that I wouldn't have to deal with Suge's bullshit anymore and it was one less stressor I had to deal with.
However, there were many more things I had to get in order. Like Swing Mob, for instance. Things around me were spiraling out of control. Honestly, I feel like I was, too. But I could only focus one issue at a time, and I was in no hurry to deal with my own demons.
Who ever is?
Author's note:
Carfax about Playa breathing on DeVante's phone. Lmao. It's the very last section. So weird. AKSKAKSKSKD.