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fifteen

. . .

“All y’all muthafucka can get the fuck up out my spot, heard me?” Maximus boomed once he reached the commotion.

He’d seen plenty of fights in his day, was involved in even more but never had he witnessed niggas with cameras fighting over content.

It didn’t make sense to him, and they weren’t going to associate their bullshit with him.

And being that he didn’t even want to have this party, kickback, or what have you, he was slightly relieved the night was ending early.

Keon appeared in his periphery, Staysha staggering behind him from wherever they had been ducked off. “Nigga, the night just started. What the hell am I supposed to do with all this fuckin’ food?”

Maximus shrugged his shoulders, not caring about the food or how this would look on social media once everyone posted their post kickback thoughts.

Maximus knew a few things – Cashmere Lakes was an affluent neighborhood, and commotion brought police.

Police liked to put him in cuffs without doing their thorough research.

And he wasn’t going back to prison for people he didn’t know, or anyone else for that matter.

“I don’t give a damn about that food. Take it over to the shelter on 10 th . But they getting the fuck up out my spot.”

Sydette approached the men as she evaded Staysha, who was now politely dismissing the partygoers. She crooned as she approached him. “Trae Way MB.”

Maximus curled his lip slightly. Just his stage name off her lips sounded pretentious – loaded with evil intent and pick-me energy. He’d dealt with that shit before, now you couldn’t pay him to involve himself in anything that wasn’t going to add value to him.

He cut his eyes at her lowly, trying to school his features. She was approaching him at the most inopportune time. And whatever she wanted was some bullshit. He could guarantee it. “What’s good?”

“I know you’re putting everyone out and it’s gotten crazy, but I was hoping…” Her words faltered, realizing that Keon wasn’t going to step off so they could have a private conversation. Maximus picked up on it and chuckled inwardly.

“He ain’t leaving. What’d you want?” Maximus’ words were laced with irritation that she couldn’t detect over her thirstiness.

Sydette moved her bundles out of her face and chewed the corner of her lip before looking back up at Maximus’ tall body.

The shy act was pissing him off. It was only attractive on women who were actually shy. She wasn’t shy. She was a viper, and the snake tattoo on her shoulder proved it.

“I’m in the middle of some shit, so I need you to say what you want or step off,” he commented, forcing her to speak.

“I wanted to talk music with you. Chop it up a bit,” Sydette finally replied.

Maximus and Keon smirked. He studied her more, not because she was attractive. Sure, she was pretty but makeup heavily assisted with that. Sure, she had an enticing body, but that was manufactured and not the natural type he truly liked.

“Where you from?” he asked.

“Trae Way,” Sydette replied, her lie like it was fact.

This time, Maximus let his laugh flow out of his smoke-tinted lips.

Retrieving another blunt, he sparked it, pulled in a deep inhale before releasing it.

“Nah, you ain’t from Trae Way. Maybe Cresent Valley or Sixty-Two Palms, but you don’t know shit about Trae Way or what I rap about for that matter. ”

“I do,” she uttered.

“Name a song, any one.”

Sydette nipped her bottom lip, cheeks fusing now that she was put on the spot, and he wasn’t paying attention to the faux shyness, fake body, or excessive makeup.

“That’s what I thought. You can join the rest of them and get the fuck out my spot,” he directed, taking another hit.

Sydette pulled herself away from the duo. Keon didn’t even wait until she was out of earshot to say, “She was bad. You wasn’t even trying to get your dick wet?”

“With that? Hell no. Fuck around and fuck her in my spot, she’ll have my shit posted all over the fuckin’ internet. I ain’t going for it or niggas coming in my shit eating my food, drinking my liquor and acting like they don’t have no fucking sense. I’m good on it. Thanks, though.”

Keon chuckled. “Aight. So, we’re going to have to figure something out to get you some buzz.”

“That show shit your girl booked is enough,” Maximus stated.

“She ain’t my-” Keon’s words were cut short by Maximus’ knowing look.

“And I thought the only lying nigga I knew was Gus.”

“Nigga, fuck you,” Keon said with a chortle.

“Nah, I’m straight. Make sure these people, their cameras, and all that food is up out of here,” Maximus stated, making his way back to the ducked off spot he left Eden.

He shouldn’t have been surprised or partially saddened by her absence, but he was.

He grunted to himself, making a mental note to carve out time he already didn’t have to be back in her presence again.

Reclaiming his spot, he finished his blunt and took in the view.

Hell, Trae Way would’ve beat the views of faded coats of gray-painted walls showing the former colors through the chips and scrapes.

The window that didn’t provide any light and the steel bars.

But this – the glistening of the lake underneath the night sky.

The pool he’d dreamt of having as a kid, thanks to the community swimming pool being on EWG’s side of the hood.

The house had more rooms and bathrooms than he had experienced in his adult life.

The climb and the trials had proven that this was only one step.

There was higher to go, more to do, more memories to hold dear.

From the view, making tears dance at the brim of his eyes and contributing to a semi-tight chest, he turned to the seat Eden once occupied.

He smirked to himself before fishing his phone back out of his pocket and going back to social media.

The few photos she took before and during the party were posted.

They served her no justice. In the photos, she was beautiful.

Live in 4k, she was gorgeous – soul stirring – breath taking.

As the night progressed and the chatter of people surrounding him faded from his mind, the only thing that was left was her soft voice rapping his lyrics on a loop, making rest hard for him to find and sink into.

She’d done some sort of magic on him. Some type of spell she put on him, and he didn’t see himself wanting to be free of it.

He stretched across the bed, happy to no longer be balancing himself on a twin mattress that was too short for long limbs.

He’d spent three days finding a house and furnishing it with the essentials.

Maximus had always been a simple man, poverty induced.

Now that he had more than enough money, he wasn’t trying to blow it on a house, cars, clothes, jewels, and anything else that was going to have him back at Midnight making runs from Mama.

In the middle of his scrolling, a notification popped up on the top of his screen for a direct message.

Haphazardly, he tapped it while scrolling through pictures of Eden in brand shoots or at parties.

There were a handful of blog posts about her and he had no interest in it or what anyone had to say about her.

@SassySydNee: Does this change your mind about kicking it?

Maximus huffed, eyeing the invisible photo that was revealed only with his tapping. Before he was tempted to do so or tell her to leave him the hell alone, a text came through from the producer.

Mikey Keys: I got a beat, pull up

Maximus groaned and pulled himself from the bed and got his mind focused on what it should’ve been on since Eden was out of his space. Back on his feet and dressed again, he was out the door and headed to the studio in hopes of finding something that would stick.

Almost three hours later, Maximus had four songs recorded that seemed to be bops, but he wasn’t going to share them just yet. There was a nod of approval he was looking for, and oddly enough was the person he’d just met but had been keeping tabs on for weeks.

“Ayo!” Keon greeted as he strolled into the studio with a bounce in his step.

Maximus blew the smoke from his blunt into the air and threw a nod in his direction. “What’s up?”

“I just got some news for you,” Keon said, happily rubbing his hands together.

Maximus offered him a deadpan expression, hoping that Keon would get to the point. “You gon’ tell me or I’ma have to read your mind...”

“That role Staysha was talking about the other day...it’s yours. Later today, you’ll sign the contract. The day after, you’ll get the script, meet up with your on-screen girlfriend, and go over the lines. Record the new track for the season finale and film for the rest of the week.”

Maximus stared at Keon for a moment before asking. “You shittin’ me or is this some real shit?”

“It’s some real shit, nigga. All them years you sacrificed, you’re getting your just due. Look happy, nigga.”

“I-uh,” Maximus started, before a small smile crept over his face. “I can’t believe this shit for real.”

“Believe it. You ain’t never touching a brick again,” Keon encouraged. “You ain’t ask about your on-screen girlfriend though.”

“Ain’t worried about it. It's work. In and out.”

“Eden,” Keon answered the question Maximus was too cool to ask. “It’s Eden.”

“What, you trying to make this some family affair?”

“Nah, I know how you feel about that shit, but I saw y’all vibin’. So, shoot the shot, nigga.”

“Don’t have time for that shit,” were the words that came out of his mouth, but there was a stir inside of him thawing the heart he put on ice.