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. . .

She hadn’t turned her phone back on. Honestly, because she was bracing the storm that was brewing on the internet.

Last night was steeped into her mind. She could still feel the shove of his tainted tongue in her mouth, the unwanted grip he had of her chin, and the way Rico glared at her with evil.

It played over and over on a loop. That and the realization that maybe, just maybe, Natavia was playing her this whole time.

Eden pushed her body out of the bed and trekked to the open space of the apartment. When she entered the Staysha was standing at the counter, pecking away on her laptop, balancing her attention from the laptop to the iPad and then the phone pressed between her ear and shoulder.

Briefly, Staysha looked up at her sister and then pointed to the barstool and slid the iPad over.

“I called you like seven hundred times,” Staysha gritted.

“I turned it off after last night,” Eden shared, now realizing Staysha was in crisis mode, cleaning up something Eden hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her on her own.

Her tired eyes left Staysha and looked down at the iPad.

At some point this morning, after she sobered up, Natavia posted a tearful video about Eden betraying her.

The audio came through in a flood of acrimonious reminders.

“I never thought in a million years someone I considered to be my best friend, like a sister, would betray me like that. Like, trying to seduce my man? I can’t help but think about what would have happened if I had never walked in, or if my real friends weren’t recording it.

We have a business relationship, but I guess that’s over now, too.

It just goes to show you that you can’t trust a stripper or a woman whose old hustle was seducing men to get what she wanted. ”

Eden’s mouth fell open, and tears flooded her vision as the video uploaded by BigBallerAlert played edited clips of Rico and Eden entangled like they were forbidden lovers.

Eden got up, rushed back down the hall to grab her phone.

Powering it on, she scrolled through social media to see the aftermath for herself.

“I didn’t do anything to her! I didn’t even kiss him,” Eden cried. “He pushed up on me. Where are those videos? Where is the real shit?”

Eden couldn’t even scroll in peace without notification after notification from brands she had great relationships with ending their relationship.

“I’m trying to do damage control, but you need to speak your peace,” Staysha spoke. “Don’t let that bitch get away with running your good name into the mud.”

Eden navigated to an email from MRA’s lawyer.

She croaked as she read the words. “In the nature of the violation of Mac’Roy Agency’s moral clause, the agency has chosen to no longer represent you.

The fees accrued in the last leg of the contract are transferred to the talent to settle.

In this transition, please take note of the confidentiality clause of the signed contract and the non-disclosure agreement attached.

In closing, you are prohibited from signing with another agency while your campaigns are still active. Best of luck on future endeavors.”

Eden wanted to throw the phone into the wall, scream, cuss and take her ass back to Rico’s house and lay hands and feet on him. Not only was this embarrassing as fuck, they had essentially stopped her from making money and launched her into the red with the pending invoices she had to settle.

“I don’t understand,” she breathed into the palms of her hands. “I don’t get it. I don’t get it. That man assaulted me, and I can’t say shit? I can’t even sue because they’ll countersue and take everything I have!”

“I promise I’m working on this. But you need to tell me what happened,” Staysha urged. “And why didn’t you call me?”

“You were busy, and I thought I could sleep this off and form some sort of plan this morning.” Eden’s tone was vehement, and her heart was heavy.

“I went to the brand parties like I was supposed to do. I took pictures, rubbed elbows like I was supposed to do. By the time I got to Rico’s for that stupid ass after party, Natavia was nose diving in powder and Rico was on some bullshit about breaking me and turning me out like he did Natavia.

By the time she even found us, she was high, and the damage was already done. ”

“That nigga hurt you?” Staysha screeched. “He touched you?”

“Squeezed my face, shoved his tongue in my mouth. Considering it could be worse, but assault is assault, and she looked at me like I was lying to her. And then she gets on the internet doubles down with tears and lies like I’ve been fuckin’ that nasty ass nigga this whole time?

Are we serious right now? I mean, gotdamn! ”

Eden couldn’t control her emotions, and Staysha wasn’t going to ask her to. She was allowed to feel everything.

“I know my contract was about to be up but to lie on me and snatch away everything I’ve worked so fucking hard for is fucked up, Stay. It’s fucked up. Do you know how hard I’ve worked not to be that girl from Trae Way? Huh?”

Staysha wiped her tears and pulled her older sister into her arms. Eden needed the comfort she rarely asked for. “No one knows like I know. I’m so sorry they’re doing this to you, but I promise, I’m going to make this right. I promise.”

“How? I read every part of the contract and the NDA, I can’t say shit for seven years. Who is going to want to work with me now? Huh?”

“You let me worry about that. Let’s take the next week or so as a vacation to center ourselves.”

“I can’t sit down for a week, Stay. I’m paying these bills and yours. I don’t even get my last check from MRA. Did you see how much I owe in invoices? No, sitting is a chance I can’t take.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Staysha questioned.

Eden shrugged. “Midnight?”

“No. Uh uh. Absolutely not.”

“I can’t go out and hustle. At least there, I know I’m protected.”

“You left Midnight debt-free. You owed Mama nothing. You had a plan. You cannot go back and prove her right. We’re going to figure this out. You took care of me all your life, now let me take care of you. Please.”

Eden buried her face in her hands and scratched her scalp before conceding. “Fine, but don’t expect me to leave this apartment, though. They’ve called me everything but a Child of God.”

“Man, fuck them people, they don’t know you,” Staysha rebutted as Eden pulled away and curled up in the corner of the couch. She was still ingesting all of the blogs, comments, and think pieces.

One read: Let’s talk about pulling a hoe from the other side of the tracks.

All they know is hustle, so when they get over here, they’re going to hustle us too.

@GardenofEden had us all fooled. That soft spoken, cute face, pretty smile was all bullshit.

She been fucking on Rico. Every time they were near each other, you could see it.

Had the nerve to be holding Natavia’s hand on the red carpet with Rico’s dick on her breath.

Eden scoffed and began sobbing again. “I’ve never even so much as smiled too hard at that man.”

Staysha snatched her phone out of her hand and shook her head. “No. Nope, Nah. Uh uh. We are not going to feed into this bullshit. We’re going to eat and unbox all that shit by the door.”

Eden sorrowfully wiped her face and snot with the back of her hand and stood up.

She dragged herself back down the hall, not doing anything, Staysha said.

She wanted to disappear, and if that meant crawling back in bed, pulling the covers over her head, and sleeping until it was all over, that’s what she was going to do.

She lost track of the seconds, minutes, and hours that passed. When she was awakened, it was by Staysha with a grease-stained brown paper bag, the smell of fried chicken, fried potatoes, and onions wafting from it. In her other hand were two grape sodas.

“Scoot over,” Staysha ordered, kicking off her shoes and getting into the bed with her sister.

“You went to Trae Way to pick up Rodney’s?”

“I did. Rodney also cussed me out for not coming by in a year and some change. Said we switched up and whenever you bring your ass back to see him, he got something for you too,” Staysha semi-laughed as she shared the words from the owner of Big Rodney’s Fried Chicken Shack.

“After he did all of that, he gave us some extra Big Rod sauce and said if you say the word, he’ll handle that Rico shit for you. ”

Eden sat up and chuckled. Rodney had been the neighborhood father.

It didn’t matter if you were hustling, a Trae Way Gangsta, an E Way Goon, or anything in between.

He treated everyone with respect, honored them, and poured into them.

Rodney gave Eden her first job under the table when their mother left.

It took one grease burn and almost-fire for him to realize that Eden wasn’t allowed in the kitchen or anywhere near his day-to-day operations.

While he couldn’t pay her for doing nothing, anytime they needed a meal, he took care of them.

All these years and nothing had changed.

“I figured since you’re not with MRA, you can have some fried food smothered in Big Rod sauce. We can watch reality TV, day drink, and lie in bed for two days. After that, we have to get up and keep moving. Okay?”

“We have to?”

“We have to. You can get a break, but you got to remember who you are, Eden. And you ain’t never been a sucker and your never took your licks laying down. Don’t let four years of comfort make you soft. We are from Trae Way.”

Staysha started twisting up her fingers as if either of them were affiliated with the E Way Goons.

“Girl, relax, you have never been an EWG.”

“Daddy was,” Staysha said with a shrug.

Eden rolled her eyes as she took the bag and tore it open. The fried onions and potatoes were piping hot, covered with the right amount of seasoning salt. The same with the chicken – crunchy, flavorful, and juicy. Home in a box. Comfort in a grease-stained brown paper bag.

“Daddy was a lot of things. Crazy how he was what he was, and Poppi ran Trae Way.”

“You ever think about how different it would have been if he didn’t die?”

Eden groaned. Those were memories she could keep at bay.

Well, memories she kept at bay for the last four years.

Every so often, she could still smell the gun powder, see the black bandana’s and feel the heat of the blood.

But those were all demons she kept within herself.

She didn’t talk about it, tried not to think about it, and no one outside of Staysha knew.

“I don’t know. Maybe Mom would’ve stayed. Maybe she wouldn’t. I don’t think about that anymore. Like you said, forward motion.”

The rest of the day went as planned, in bed mixing tequila with their grape soda, smashing their chicken, and watching two seasons of Courtside Wives and Love&Rap. The sister time and escape from the real world was just what the doctor ordered.