𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐄 ❷ ⓿ ❷ ❷
The triangle french tip of her acrylic thumbnail tapped on the screen when she declined her boyfriend's incoming phone call for over fifty times and turned her phone on do not disturb as she pushed open the door of her Audi and grabbed the rolled handle of her Givenchy satchel. The chirping of the vehicle sounded when she pressed the lock button on her key-fob.
Her brown YSL-heel suede sandals clicked on the floor as she sauntered to the elevator and pressed the button. She waited patiently, rocking her slender body in a ruched long-sleeve top that she tucked in the cropped fit, chewed hem skinny leg jeans. The elevator doors opened, she stepped on, and rode up to the second floor. She found the specific door and walked right in to find the singer sitting in front of the screen...
"Hey beauty." her voice got Ariana Grande's attention.
The singer smiled widely, squealing as she hopped up from the chair and hugged her immediately. "Oh my God!" she reeled back, "I'm so happy you're here."
"You think I wouldn't show up for one of my favorite singers." She placed her satchel on the table and sent a smile to the engineer, "Where's Scooter?"
"Store run. Come listen." Ariana grabbed her hand and eagerly leaded her over to the computer screen. She pressed the space button and played the part of the song she recorded.
Anicia listened attentively to the the singer bringing the first chorus lyrics of what Anicia wrote to life. The brief recording stopped and Ariana looked to her for her opinion. "I love it; but you're only singing in a G₃ low note. You're known for the high notes. Let's add some D₅ high notes in there. Let's record over what you have."
A wide smile curled on the singer's lips. "This is why me and you make the perfect team."
"Yeah, now go in there and give me the Ariana I know."
The singer went into the booth while Anicia stepped forward to the soundboard beside the engineer. "Let's start at the second 'boy I'm tryna meet you mama'," she sung briefly to the male; he nodded and pressed button.
Anicia bobbed her head as she listened to the pop singer's buttery vocals record freely over the instrumental. Ariana followed the direction Anicia had given her. She would jump in to give the singer tips every so often when the door of the studio opened.
The white male with a full, low-trimmed brown beard and a Adidas baseball cap on his head stepped in carrying a sack. "What's up, Anicia?"
Anicia hugged the singer's manager briefly. "Hey, Scooter."
"How's our girl doing?" Scooter asked, staring at his client in the booth.
"You know; AG follows instructions amazingly." Anicia eyed the singer too. "I'm glad to work on this album since this will sadly be the last one I work on for a while."
"Last one?" Scooter reiterated, "the infamous Anicia Porter that's worked with some heavy-hitters is giving up on songwriting? You love this."
"Yeah, well," she took a deep breath, "I have a demanding mother that wants me to take over a business I know nothing about with my sister's. I declined, declined; until I gave in to give her a year. Only a year."
"There's no reason to do that when this is what you know—studios, writing music, and producing. This is what you love. This is your heart. Why give it up for any amount of time when it's not what you love?"
For the next two hours, she marinated on his words in the recording studio with Ariana until she left in route to her mother's spa. Everyone was telling her the same thing but she couldn't wait until she actually found the courage to open her mouth to her mother.
She was just getting out of the vehicle in front of her mothers spa when Lotus exited the shop sporting a cropped turtleneck and boyfriend jeans with one strap of her Fendi backpack hanging from her shoulder. Her natural hair was braided into two braids.
They both stopped suddenly when connecting gazes.
Lotus cleared her throat and started to walk down the sidewalk until Anicia spoke, "Can I talk to you?"
Lotus turned around as she pushed her the strap of her backpack up her shoulder. "Yes?"
"You said you know who I really am..." Anicia stared at the young adult, "What did you mean?"
"I grew up with persistent Dads that always told me about getting to know who my birth mother is at least know her name. So I did." Lotus sighed, "Anicia Porter. You may not have signed my birth certificate but I know who you are. You're my mother. And the way you've treated me knowing or at least having a clue that I am your daughter, the way you've been acting towards me I wish I never listened to him and pass up on college in New Jersey to come here and meet the woman that doesn't care about me."
Anicia's face screwed in confusion. "Him?"
"Mr Porter. He's the one I met first. Your father." she revealed which further confuses Anicia as the car pulled up for Lotus, "I have to go."
Watching the young adult hop into the pickup truck, she recognized the drivers face and remained wordless. The truck drove off and instead of going into her mother's shop, she hopped back in her Audi and head to the residence she had been staying at for the past few days and not home—the Beverly Hilton. .
She removed her ponytail and kicked off her heels as soon as she stepped into the one bedroom presidential suite then tossed her purse on the quilted sectional.
Everything she done was absentminded—stripping from her clothes, running herself a bubble bath, and pouring her a glass of wine. She sat in the soapy water with her knees pulled up to her chest and drinking the wine periodically.
Anicia drank the whole glass, sitting it beside the bathtub and laid her head on her knees. She stared out at the view the suite on the penthouse level overlooked. She stayed there, wordless, until the soap dissolved and water got cold. She washed up and got out, wrapping her body in her Victoria Secrets kimono robe and the tips of her tresses dripping water.
Anicia poured her another glass and checked her phone—several missed calls and texts from her mother, Landon, and her sister's. She bypassed all of them and sent her location to a completely different thread. She laid her phone face down on the kitchen counter and sauntered to the sectional sitting in the corner of the baby blue sofa.
Again, her eyes fell to the window and sunk deeply into her thoughts. .
A rhythmic knock on the suite's door is what pulled her back to reality, her wine glass still half full in her hand. She hopped up from the sectional, sitting it on the table, and strolled to the door. She opened it and immediately smelled the cologne. He stood in the corridor sporting a Nike fleece jogging suit and Nike Cortez shoes with a baseball cap on his head.
"Wussup baby?" the rich, baritone of his voice makes her smile softly as he pulled her into a an embrace and squeeze her body.
She reeled back, prolonging a kiss on his lips on her tiptoes and resting her forehead on his while rubbing the back of his neck. She finally stepped back, letting him in, as the door shut.
Toby could feel something was bothering her aura. "What's wrong? Why you stayin' hea'?"
"I needed to get away." Grabbing the wine glass, she returned on the couch with her legs underneath her, "I didn't want to be home."
Toby sat down beside her; arms on the back of the couch with his legs opened wide. "Ain't tryna be wit yo' boyfriend?"
"No," She drank from the wine glass. "I went to see him four days ago; when we got back and he done exactly what my mother done—judged what I wore, my hair in its natural stare; he cares too much about my parents opinion than me."
"How did you even meet 'em?" Toby wondered, "Like did you have to have yo' hair straightened and wearing heels all day, everyday to please 'em?"
"I had the tomboy style I did when I left California and the natural hair." She began, sipping more of the wine. "We met our freshman year at Howard. Every year my father's organization sends ten African American students to any college and Landon was apart of that. He knew my parents before he knew me. I don't know..."
"What don't you kno'?"
"Some part of me feels that my mother set us up to date somehow."
His eyebrows knitted. "Why you thinkin' that?"
"The overly caring too much about what and how my parents feel about this and that." She swallowed the rest of her wine, "I spent six years of my life in a relationship with him so of course I care for him. He kept a big... secret for me. I do love him but I'm not in love with him."
"Lemme get dis straight," he breathed deeply as he crossed his arms over his chest. "He don't wanna witness you bein' yo' self, rather please yo' parents than caring how it affects you, and you not tryna marry 'em or have his kids; why you wit 'em again?"
Anicia leaned forward, placing the wine glass on the table as Toby continued. "You ain't got nothin' bondin' you to homie. At dis point, you rather be in a unhappy situation just to please yo' peoples than at least be by yo' self for a minute to find yo' self again. At first I was feelin' sorry by yo' situation but now it's gettin' sad, baby."
Anicia stared at him instantly after hearing his blatantly honest words and he didn't stop it there, "In two years you gon' be forty and you still lettin' shit control you like you a child. You not no weak-ass woman, Nene. So why you actin' like it? You got everybody controllin' yo' life but you. And you kno' how I am; I give it raw and uncut. You gotta whole ass house but you here; hidin'. You gotta head full of natural curly ass hair but you straight it; hidin'. You gotta dope ass songwriting career going fa' you, workin' on som' body album right now but whatchu doin? Hidin'.
"Stop fuckin' hidin' from shit and actually getcho' backbone back like the beauty I knew back then and put yo' foot down." he voiced passionately as tears formed in her waterline, "You not weak. You strong. So be strong, pack yo' shit, and go home."
Anicia let her head fall onto his lap as he sighed and rubbed her back in comfort. She stared ahead and her starting the journey of being strong would've been telling him about their daughter. But she done what she always done; kept her mouth shut.
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