THIS IS THE BEST time of the day. Not necessarily because it's night, but because I’m alone in my room. Just my beats and me. Usually my grandmother’s in one ear and Symphony’s in the other, both yappin’ about something. If it ain’t that, then I got a room full of niggas trying to play Madden or want me to make them a beat. Half of them can’t rap and the other half wants something for free.
I like to be in solitude when I create. My mind clear and free from any outside drama. That’s another reason why I’m glad Hunter is back. Now maybe Q will get off of mine. I have goals, not dreams. Just like in that old movie, ‘Don’t Be a Menace to South Central While Drinkin’ Yo Juice in the Hood’ “Dreams are fo suckas!” I’m already peeping out the latest colleges for either the best Music Arts program or Business.
I plan to be one of the best music producers one day. I figure I already have the talent in music, but who knows… you can never stop learning. With the football skills I have, I hope to get a free ride by getting a football scholarship.
If Symph and I get married one day, we should be set. Me and my music biz and her with her clothing line, we will be rollin’ in dollars.
Q taps me on my shoulder knocking me from my solitude. “Take that plug out so I can hear too… is that my shit you working on?”
See what I mean? I can’t catch a break. “Sup man, thought you would be chillin’ at Hunter’s house for a minute.”
“Thought so too, but her mom’s went back into trip mode.”
“That sucks…”
“I wish! Thought I was goin’ get-”
“You need to clean up this room!” My grandmother chimes in cutting Q off from his dirty mind. “Pick up them CD’s and clothes off the floor boy.”
“I am Ma!” My cell rings and the caller ID says it’s Symphony. “What up bae?”
“Where you at?”
“The crib.”
“Oh.”
I pull the plug from my headset, my beat intertwines with Q’s lyrics pouring into the airwave, and it sounds sick! Dun Dun… Dun Dun.
“Ohhhh!” Quincy places his fist to his lips and looks amazed as if he didn’t think our collab would be fiyah. Dun Dun… Dun Dun. He nods his head along with the beat in deep thought. “Yeah… Hell yeah!”
“Nigga… as if you ain’t know. Just needs a little tweaking here and there, but yeah.”
Quincy continues to rap along with the beat, checking his hooks, and making sure that everything is flowing as it should be.
Every day I wake up, Son of a Battlefield
So hard to look up, Son of a Battlefield
Just wanna give up, Son of a Battlefield
‘Cause I can't take it, I just can't take it
And suddenly. It all becomes official. My beat and his lyrics met and said, ‘I do’. If ever there were such a thing as marriage between a beat and a lyric… this was the ceremony right here.
Q and I were so into this moment I had forgot all about Symphony on the other end of the phone. I mentally prepare to be cussed out because I know she was going to let me have it. “Sorry ‘bout that bae.”
“Not a problem. I enjoyed listening.”
“You must be home by yourself again.”
She sighs and says, “Of course… Harmony’s here though.”
“You want me and Q to swing through?”
“That’d be nice. I’ll order a pizza and see if Hunter wants to come by too.”
“Aight cool. Let me finish up here and we’ll be on our way.”
♥♥♥
“Aye, lil homie, let me holla at y’all for a minute.” Patrón and Remy sat in front of their parking lot in Remy’s silver Cadillac.
“Here these niggas go.” Q was already happy to make his way over to them.
“First question… how y’all lil scroungie niggas got two of the baddest chicks in the complexes?” Patrón asks from the passenger side window.
“Ha ha… well you know…” Quincy gives Patrón dap from the window.
“Y’all playin’ in Saturday’s game, right?” They both get out of the car and lean on the hood.
“No doubt!” Q answers for me.
“Y’all wanna make some bread?” Patrón finally spoke while puffing on a blunt.
“Hell yeah… what we gotta do?” Q steps closer, but I stay planted where I am. Everything about these dudes spells trouble all the time. Nothing good ever came from dealing with Remy and Patrón.
“Aight… aight…” Remy puts his arm on Q’s shoulder as if what he’s about to say is top secret. “It’s simple… I just need y’all to throw the game when y’all get up against the Cougars.”
“Huh... that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“What?” I know he didn’t just say what I thought he said. I’m MVP on my team and I ain’t trying to throw nothing but a football!
“If ya punk ass wasn’t all the way over there, then maybe ya would have heard what I said.” Remy turns and looks at me. Trying to intimidate me and put fear into my heart. They operate that way.
“Man, throwin’ a game is like throwing away any chances of being seen by a recruiter or getting a scholarship. Plus we undefeated… I ain’t ‘bout to do that.”
“This lil nigga think he hard, P.”
“I see that.”
“Nigga, you a Sophman, barely a sophomore. I could see if you was like, P, here.” Remy smacks his brother lightly in the chest. “He a junior… ain’t no recruiters lookin’ at y’all young ass right now noway.”
“Yo, let me talk to my man and we’ll get back to y’all… I’m in either way ‘cause I could use the bread.” Quincy looks at me as if telling me to get on board.
♥♥♥
“Well, I don’t see what the big deal is, just throw the game." Hunter takes her shoes off and slides her bare feet under her as she sat on Symphony’s living room sofa.
“You don’t see what the big deal is because you have no idea where Roman is.” Symphony sits the pizza box on the coffee table and grabs the paper plates. “You want some of this?” Symphony offers Hunter a slice.
“No, I’m good, I already ate.”
“Anyway, Roman was Westbrook’s first freshmen all state with the most total yards from scrimmage.”
“Two-thousand plus yards… but go ahead and school ‘em bae.” I pat Symphony on her back as I reach and grab a slice for myself.
“And he was named first string offensive player and defensive player for city and state.”
“So, who cares about all that? I’m talkin’ bout fast money, cash, right now in our hands!” Quincy stands up to emphasize his point. “Just like Remy’em said… ain’t no recruiters checkin’ for you right now!”
“Man you sound crazy! Freshmen year I already had recruiters checkin’ for me!” I get up too and pound my hand with my fist to prove my point.
“All right, all right, all right!” Symphony stands in the middle of Quincy and me. “I ain’t invite y’all over here for all this. Now ain’t nobody throwing no game… PERIOD!”
“Y’all all know Remy and Patrón don’t throw out no play money. The less we probably get is $500 a piece!” Quincy calms down and tries to explain his point of view. “I don’t know about y’all but a brother like me can use it!”
Symphony slaps Quincy’s ball cap off his head. “I know you ain’t stupid enough to get it in with them weed heads!”
“Man, Ro… you betta get ya girl!”
“I don’t know. I’m with Q on this one.” Hunter turn towards me and looks me in the face. “Please Ro, you do not want to get them dudes on your bad side. Take it from me and just do whatever they ask and leave it at that.”
“What?” How does she sound telling me to do something like that? “I’m sorry, maybe I’ve never had the chance to introduce myself.” I walk over to her and grab her hand to shake. “I’m Roman Davis. MVP of Westbrook Tigers Football Team.” Even Quincy had to laugh on that one.
7 CHAPTER SEVEN
SYMPHONY PERKINS
Designers want me to dress like Spring, in billowing things. I don't feel like Spring. I feel like a warm red Autumn.
~Marilyn Monroe