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“I don’t know why you couldn’t just come over here and get your own latte,” Staysha huffed as she strolled into Got Drip Coffeehouse. “Two blocks and a few pesky paps. You would’ve been fine.”

“Two turns into four, four into eight, eight into sixteen, and then I’m hiding out again for the next two years.”

Staysha rolled her eyes at Eden’s dramatics and scanned the area. A man she knew all too well caught her eye. She started to approach just as a woman wearing his ring entered her line of sight and placed her hand on his biceps. Biceps that she’d been scooped up in, gripped, wrapped up in.

She bit a croak.

“Let me call you right back, Eden,” Staysha replied, ignoring whatever Eden was rambling on about, and hung up. Before she could get her argument points together, she was in stride to who she thought was her man and his pregnant wife? “I know you are fuckin’ lying to me, Rashawn!”

The grinding of the coffee beans, steaming of milk, and chatter around the small coffee shop came to a screeching halt. All eyes and ears were on her. Unfortunately, Staysha had tuned them all out.

“Had me eating Plan B’s because your wife is pregnant?” Staysha shouted even louder than the first time.

His wife turned around, readying herself to say something to Staysha, but Rayshawn stopped her. A gaslighting nigga at its finest. “Wenny, come on.”

“Are you going to tell Wenny how you had my ass pinned up in the St. Harlem? Huh?” Staysha continued, making a spectacle of herself.

Emotionally driven by anger because she caught feelings.

The number one rule of hitting a lick was never to get emotionally involved.

She was head over heels. She believed that Rayshawn loved her, he even whispered it while she was twirling on his dick.

He was breaking her off bands without a second thought, and sponsoring shopping trips.

At one point, Eden had even promoted his brand.

His wife, Wenny, took Staysha in as Rayshawn attempted to move her away from the commotion. “I knew about you. I thought that you were smarter than you were. Just like every other bitch he’s fucked in his free time. I hope you saved some of that money.”

It wasn’t the thought of not having access to Rayshawn’s money that hurt her.

It was the realization that she’d been played.

The sobering moment that Rayshawn was a thief, and he had stolen pieces of her in pursuit of what he wanted – Kate and Edith – Wenny and Staysha, and whoever else.

As they strolled out of the shop past her, a barista approached, getting her directions from the glare Rayshawn flashed over his shoulder.

“Ma’am. I – uh – I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave. And never come back,” the barista timidly spoke. “I mean, if your sister wants to come back, that’s fine, but not you.”

The surroundings finally came back like a flood. Coffee beans were grinding again, milk was being steamed, and the chatter resumed. Only Staysha was left with the stain of embarrassment. She nodded ever-so-slightly as she pivoted out of the door without the latte she was sent there for.

The trek back to Eden’s apartment was long, filled with hot, angry tears and a text from Rayshawn that read – don’t fucking text or call me. This is over.

She indeed attempted to text back, and the bubble turned green and then undeliverable.

“Fuck, Stay,” she huffed, maneuvering from the text screen to her social media to send his ass a DM. Her mania came to a pause when she spotted the message request from a man by the handle of @KingKeon3W.

She frowned knowing that any handle from around here with 3W behind it was some gang shit. Her thumb tapped the unread message.

@KingKeon3W: I heard you were the lady to hit up for a party

Staysha squinted, wanting to cuss him out and go on about her way, but she needed to supplement the flow of money now that Rayshawn was out of the picture.

@StayUpWithSha: Depends on who’s asking

@KingKeon3W: Trae Way MB. Label said you know the who’s who

@StayUpWithSha: Depends on what the money is looking like and what you need

@KingKeon3W: We need a lowkey kickback planned from top to bottom, food, liquor, and people who understand the assignment

@StayUpWithSha: Six bands

@KingKeon3W: Girl, are you on crack?

@StayUpWithSha: You want the best of the best, I got it, either take it or leave it. I’ll throw in Eden Sage

@KingKeon3W: Damn you don’t play. Half now, half the day of

@StayUpWithSha: No bullshit?

@KingKeon3W: Nah not on no bullshit.

@StayUpWithSha: JoyCash $StayUpWithSha. Details?

@KingKeon3W: Next week, Wednesday. 639 Lakeview Avenue

“Oh shit,” she huffed scratching her forehead. “All or nothing, got to get her out of the house one way or another.”

@StayUpWithSha: Bet. See you then

Staysha kept hiking up the sidewalk back to Eden’s building.

When she arrived at the door, the money was sent, and Staysha was in the process of gathering the dozens of people she knew who would make sure the word got out that Trae Way MB was home and had new music on the way. Honorable mention – Eden.

Covered in Dirt by Trae Way MB flowed through the apartment as Staysha walked in.

Ever since discovering him, Eden had his mixtape in heavy rotation.

She slowly shut the door behind her and pulled herself together.

Eden was doing a sophisticated version of the Trae Walk across the living room floor as she vacuumed the carpet.

“Can’t bury a nigga who came up out the mud. Pussy niggas swear I won’t get it back in blood,” Eden rapped softly before finding Staysha empty-handed. “What happened?”

Staysha sniffled softly. “Why would something need to happen?”

“Because you’re here with no coffee…and your eyes are all puffy and that vein is popping out of your head,” Eden shared her observations. “So, what happened?”

“Good news or bad news?” Staysha posed.

“The news that made you cry and everything else after.”

Staysha huffed, kicked off her shoes, and shuffled to the couch. When she plopped down, she looked up at her older sister with tears in her eyes. “That guy I was seeing is married and has a baby on the way.”

Eden placed her hands on her hips and squinted. “There were no signs?”

“I mean, we always met up at the St. Harlem. I didn’t think anything of it,” Staysha admitted.

“Who is he?”

Staysha bit her lip and groaned. “Rayshawn Curtis.”

Eden’s mouth dropped. “The COO of the St. Harlem hospitality group? The one who asked me to do promo. Staysha!”

“What? I didn’t know he was married. I swear I didn’t. I know, I know you taught me to look for the signs but the dick…”

“Had your head in the clouds?” Eden asked before taking a seat by Staysha and hugging her. “All the rules went out the window, huh?”

“They did. It’s so stupid to cry over, but I guess it's my fault.”

“I won’t kick you while you’re down. Considering I just finished days of moping myself. What are you going to do?”

“Move the hell on. All this gave me an idea, though,” Staysha muttered. “MRA said you couldn’t sign with any other competing agency. They never said you couldn’t sign yourself. So, what if we do some pop out here and there and build the brand up Trae Way style?”

“What does that mean? I love Big Rod, but I’m not promoting fried chicken.”

“Nooo. Not in that capacity. People online have so much to say about you being from the other side of the tracks. What about if we took them over there, to the other side? Starting with a little kickback?”

Eden released her sister and curled her lip. “I’m not going to a party nowhere in Trae Way. Nowhere. Not at Midnight, not nowhere.”

“What about a party in Cashmere Lakes with some folks from the Trae?”

“Who?”

“Just say yes.”

“I’m not just saying yes to anything.”

“You would if I told you I already got half the fee for you to show up,” Staysha shared. “And I’m also banned from the coffee shop, you’re going to have to JoyEats your latte.”

Eden rolled her eyes. “I’ll go, but I’m not talking, and I’m finding a corner. And I’m staying for thirty minutes tops.”

“Whatever you want. Now, can I go back to wallowing in self-pity?”

Eden rolled her eyes and opened her arms back up. “Yes, you can. One day you’ll choose the right man and not be blinded by dick and a bank account.”

After Staysha was done feeling sorry for herself, she roamed back through her phone, finding the DM’s from earlier.

@StayUpWithSha: Does Trae Way MB needs brand management?

@KingKeon3W: To be real I don’t know shit about this. I’m a hustler

@StayUpWithSha: Aren’t we all. I mean, I can do more than organize a party. Look at Eden, she gets three times the amount you sent me for a walk through

@KingKeon3W: So what you saying?

@StayUpWithSha: I’m saying on a trial period, let me get him some buzz going frfr if y’all like it, we can talk about branding and PR

@KingKeon3W: Meet us tomorrow at Midtown Bistro, and I’ll see