Page 21

ONE WEEK LATER…

I sat in my agent, Monique’s, office, irritated as fuck. I couldn’t even pinpoint why because there were so many fucking contributing factors, but I just knew I wasn’t in a good place.

My life had seemingly gone to shit in a matter of months, all starting with my wife popping the fuck up on me in Los Angeles.

“Okay. How are you?” Monique sighed as she sat behind her desk. Her office was located in West Hollywood with big bay windows and the whole fucking nine.

Monique was a great agent and had done a lot for me off the strength of my wife, but the bitch was getting paid to do exactly that, so I would never praise her for the shit out loud.

Every check I got, she got a percentage, so I hated that she acted like she was doing a nigga a favor, just because Zosia put me in contact with her.

“I’m aight. Why?”

She laughed slightly, steepling her fingers and just staring at me like she always did when I was pissing her off.

“Okay. Well, let’s get down to business here so you can understand why I’m asking that.” She opened a folder. “I got an email from Tamira Weathers, and she has given you two options. You either resume filming and with Unique, or they kill off your character. It’ll be done off screen, so you won’t even need to come back for that.”

“Kill off my character?” I pointed to my chest. I’d been slouching, but upon hearing that them muthafuckas wanted to fire me instead of violent ass Unique, who popped up at my house talking shit, had me sitting upright. “I gave them evidence that he came to my crib telling me to come outside so we could fight and all types of other shit.”

“I get that, but Unique Compton is the lead actor, and he is also cooperative, which you are not. You’re neither of those things I just listed, so they aren’t willing to work with you. So you need to tell me what you plan to do and right now so I can email her back. She says the longer you hold up filming, the more they will lean toward killing you off, regardless of your choice.”

“I’ll film with that nigga.” I fell back against the chair again, shaking my head as Monique began typing the email up for me.

I couldn’t fucking stand Unique, and honestly, I’d never liked him. He was one of them niggas that everybody in the room paid attention to or gravitated toward, and that shit annoyed me.

While Ramonté was the lead, it was clear that Unique was the star of the show. He seemingly got the best lines, most diverse scenes, and the female fans of the show were always fawning over his ass, mainly. So him now moving to take the reins of Dough Boyz would only worsen shit for me.

I was a star, and I felt like Tamira and the rest of the Dough Boyz production crew were holding me back. I was a far better actor than Unique, who only mimicked his brother’s life and demeanor for the show, which wasn’t real acting. Had I not gone to that weak ass yacht party and met him, I would’ve never known. And even worse, the nigga was buddy-buddy with Kabrina—the love of my life—even going as far as to help her abort my child.

So it was safe to say I abhorred Unique Compton, and if I were a different type of nigga, I would’ve been had somebody take him out. I was from New England, though, and had no real connects in the streets out here on the west.

As Monique typed up the email, I got on my phone to pass the time. I always Googled Unique to check on the news that was surrounding him and the show. Usually, it wasn’t much of anything, just him booking a new movie called The Players and other random shit about him having two bitches.

When the search results populated this time, I physically felt my jaw drop seeing the somewhat grainy photos of him out to eat with my woman. I tapped images to further inspect, and sure enough, it was Kabrina.

But shit didn’t look friendly like I thought because a few of the photos showed them kissing. I assumed Unique was just helping her ass out here and there, feeling sorry for her, especially since he’d made it clear he wasn’t a one-woman man, but I was wrong as fuck. That nigga was fucking my girl.

Backing out, I searched their names together and saw an article title that blew my fucking mind.

Unique Compton of the upcoming Night Walker chronicles announces marriage to co-star’s ex, Kabrina Kenneth.

I read that shit over a hundred times it felt like, and every time, my heart sank a little bit fucking more. Not only was Kabrina my heart, my world, and the actual love of my fucking life, as I said, but this nigga Unique had booked a superhero franchise?

“Alright, I sent the email. When I hear back?—”

“Aye, what the fuck is this about?” I cut Monique off, shooting up from my seat.

“What?” She frowned, taking my phone once I showed it to her.

“Oh, wow. When did they even start dating?”

“Not just that, but how the fuck did he book a Prevail Studios movie franchise, Mo?” I snatched my phone back, and I could tell by the way her one eyebrow shot up that she was ready to go off, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was hurting in more ways than one. “He playing Wraith?”

“It’s a very recent thing, AJ.”

“And how the fuck he getting shit like that and I can’t? I got to fucking crawl back to that fucking show, who don’t value me, while this nigga gets promoted, another movie, and now this franchise? Do I need his agent, Monique, or what?” I ranted, pacing back and forth. I wanted to punch some shit.

“No, you don’t need another agent, AJ. What you need is his focus and work ethic. You are too busy trying to dupe your wife, worrying about Kabrina, causing issues with your first steady gig since forever, and missing auditions. The last two films I sent you the scripts to, you said you’d go audition, and you didn’t.”

“I was busy,” I lied, flopping back down into the chair.

“What has you too busy to audition, AJ? And it can’t be Zosia and your new baby because she was all over the internet hollering about you being gone overnight and then for days.

“All this shit that you’re doing is why you haven’t booked a movie or franchise like he has. The only reason you’re not blackballed is because of your work on Dough Boyz and you’re about to fuck that up!”

“Man—”

“Man, nothing!” Monique ascended abruptly as fuck to the point where I flinched a bit. Palming her desk as she leaned over it a little, she added, “AJ, you need to get your shit together, and I mean immediately. I don’t have unprofessional clients, and you are ruining my rapport with people I have known and been working with for over a damn decade. Monique Foster’s clients don’t miss auditions or cause issues for no reason, and you are not about to change that shit.

“Clean up your damn act and not just professionally but personally too. If you wanna be with your wife, act like it because in this day and age, how you move in your personal life affects your career and how the public supports you. Nobody wants to see a man who abandons his wife and newborn for weeks on end, in a superhero movie or on their screens period. If you don’t want to be with her, make the shit so, but stop jumping in between. As far as Kabrina, she has moved on, and you need to as well. Do you understand?”

“Man, you better watch who you talking to. My wife ain’t gon’ appreciate how you talking to me.” I looked Monique up and down as I stood.

Zosia was a big name in the industry, and it was the only reason I’d even entertained her. While she wasn’t ugly or anything of that nature, I never loved her or even saw a future with her ass until she’d told me her father was Konrad Tillman. I knew right then if I got in good with her, he would help me break into Hollywood, so that was exactly what the fuck I did.

I played the role—some shit I was good at—making Zosia think I was in love with her and wanted her for life. I proposed, married her, got in good with her family, but before her pops could even help me, the nigga had a random heart attack and died just five months after we got hitched.

I contemplated leaving Zosia then, but I realized with her father gone, she had all the same connects as he did, so I stuck around. I pressured her to help her man out so I could take care of her, and she did just that, hooking me up with Monique who was one of the biggest and most successful agents out there.

I knew Monique had told Zosia she didn’t want to work with me, but Zosia pleaded on behalf of her father, and Monique agreed. It was the best shit to ever happen to me because she got me the audition for Dough Boyz, which I clearly secured.

“I don’t give a damn what she likes. I took you on as a favor to her since me and her father have worked together before. But if you cannot figure it out and pull your shit together, I have no problems taking you off of my roster. So what is it gonna be?” She folded her arms.

“Just get me some more auditions, and I’ll be there.” I conceded but tried to remain as firm as I could with her ass.

“Good.” She sat back down. “Tamira responded. I will send over the updated shooting schedule.”

I simply left her office without another word.

I drove around for a bit, not really wanting to go home to Zosia and my son, who seemed to cry all fucking day and over everything.

I didn’t want the life I had with Zosia. She was never supposed to get pregnant, but I fell for the okey doke, which was her telling me she was on birth control, and I no longer had to use condoms. I did the shit, and next thing I knew, she was pregnant.

I couldn’t ask my wife, one whose help I still needed, to abort our child, so I acted as if I was elated, but I was dreading the day he would come into this world.

My heart was with Kabrina, whether she believed the shit or not. And I knew she didn’t, because when I told her I loved her, she assumed I was kicking the same bullshit most married niggas did, but that was far from the fucking truth.

My endgame had been to keep both ladies separate until I got big enough to leave Zosia quietly. Then, I planned to marry and have a family with Kabrina.

The thought of her being married to Unique right now had a nigga seething every time the thought hit me. Kabrina was mine, but per usual, Unique always had to be in the way of some shit.

Pulling up to my crib, I parked and just stared at the house. Monique was right in the sense that your personal life affected your career, and seeing Unique thrive had woken me the fuck up for real.

If I wanted that type of success, I needed to move differently. It also meant I couldn’t neglect my family and have my wife all over the internet telling muthafuckas about it. Same time, my non-love for her had festered and became hate.

Being with Zosia used to be an easy role to play, but now that all she did was nag, argue, complain, and cause issues, it’d become difficult to act like I could be with her. Especially without Kabrina, who I missed like fucking crazy.

And when Kabrina told me she was pregnant, I thought it was divine intervention, solidifying her in my life forever, but that nigga Unique could never let me be great. Shit, he probably performed the abortion him-fucking-self with his bitch ass.

“Where have you been?” Zosia got right to the bullshit as soon as I stepped over the threshold of the front door. So did my son, Alvin Jr., as he wailed while she rocked him.

“Had a meeting with Monique.” I bypassed her and started to the back, but she was on my heels.

“A meeting that took four days? You’ve been gone since Wednesday night, Alvin!” When I said nothing, she asked, “Have you been with that bitch Kabrina!”

“No!” I whipped around and roared in her face. “I haven’t been with her because you ruined that shit! She don’t want shit to do with me, and now she don’ married Unique’s whack ass!”

Zosia was floored by my reaction, and my son must’ve been too because the little nigga stopped crying to stare at me with the same perplexed expression his mama wore.

He started to whimper after some moments of silence, so Zosia lifted her shirt slightly to start feeding him so he’d quiet down. Thank God.

“Why do you even care? I am your wife! You’re supposed to care about me and your son, not your side chick, especially after she blacked my eye!” She started to cry as I plopped down onto the edge of the bed in the guest room we’d walked into. “This is not how shit works, Alvin.” She sniffled. “Your family is supposed to be more important than a side bitch.”

I let her words seep into my mind as I pondered on Monique’s advice. Continuing on with Zosia was ruining my career because as badly as I wanted to use her, she was making shit too hard. And now, I hated her. It was hard as fuck to pretend you loved a muthafucka you hated. Because of her, I could lose everything. I’d already lost Kabrina, and that was some shit I didn’t think I’d recover from.

“I don’t love you, Zah.” I picked my eyes up from the floor of this plush ass home. I would miss living here, but since Zosia’s inheritance money kept us afloat, paid for this house and Kabrina’s former lifestyle, I knew she’d want my ass out.

I made good money for Dough Boyz —about $300,000 an episode—but with bills, Monique taking a percentage, and me not being able to find other avenues of work, the money wasn’t as much as it sounded like. Not to mention, I wasn’t in every episode like Unique and Ramonté were. Out of the twelve to fourteen episodes there were, I was in about eight to ten, depending on the season and storyline.

“Since when?” Her voice trembled as she adjusted a now sleeping Alvin Jr., laying him in the middle of the bed.

“Since the beginning, Zah.” I exhaled, exhausted from being around her and in this damn relationship.

“But… then why did you pursue me? Why did you propose? Marry me? Get me preg?—”

“You told me you was on birth control, so that last one ain’t on me, aight?” I cut my eyes at her before looking back forward. “I… fuck. I loved you until we got married, then shit changed. When I said the beginning, I meant the beginning of the marriage.” I altered my story, remembering how much pull Zosia had, and if she knew I used her, she could have my ass blackballed.

“But why? Things got better for us, Alvin. My father died, but other than that, we got closer, and your career took off.”

“I don’t know. I just stopped feeling it. But look, I think it’s best for Junior that we don’t subject him to unhappy parents. We need to end this shit amicably.”

“No, AJ. We are married. Let’s at least try therapy and?—”

“Nah.” I shook my head with finality. “I don’t want that. Maybe before I fell in love with Kabrina, but now that I am, no. I wanna get her back, Zah.” I finally lifted my eyes from the floor to meet hers.

Zosia squinted for a minute before her eyes went back to their original shape. “You just said she’s married.”

“Yeah, well, they ain’t been married that long. I’m sure it can be annulled. I doubt they consummated the shit.” I added the last part more for my own damn sanity. I didn’t even wanna think of Unique being between Kabrina’s legs.

“Like a marriage for publicity? For her image or something?” Zosia questioned, and I nodded, though I hadn’t even thought about that.

That sounded logical, more logical than commitment-phobe ass Unique dropping his two women to get married to my ex. Kabrina was beautiful and perfect but I didn’t think she could pull that off without some sort of sorcery.

“Exactly. So let’s break up peacefully. I won’t ask for much, just alimony to keep my same lifestyle and child support, but other than that, we good.” I patted her shoulder as I walked past her.

“Excuse me? You leave me for that bitch, and you won’t ever see your fucking son!” she yelled to my back.

“That’s perfectly fine.” I tittered to myself as I entered the bathroom. Little did she know, I didn’t wanna be a father. Only reason I’d even fight for my son was for that child support money.

“Where are you going? Only time you shower midday is when you’re leaving!” Zosia banged on the bathroom door.

“Out!”

“You better not bring your ass back here if you do!”

I ignored her, turning some music on my phone and climbing into the luxurious ass shower within the guest bathroom.

I had a newfound energy at the thought of locating Kabrina, telling her I was done with Zosia, and getting her back. I was hoping that Unique was only with her ass for appearances because I wasn’t exactly trying to go to war with or fight that nigga. He had a bad temper and resources which was a recipe for disaster.

Kabrina was mine first, anyway, so he needed to bow out gracefully, if he did in fact like her.

Once out the shower, I got dressed and even wore some cologne. I hadn’t been out just to have fun in a little minute. Lately, I’d only hit the streets in order to find groupies and drink to take shit off my mind.

Zosia didn’t say a word to me before I left, thankfully.

It took me about half an hour to make it to this small strip club off Florence. It was in the hood, but I fucked with it because it had the prettiest females, and they weren’t bougie—especially when a famous person came through. They made me feel like royalty, and I needed that tonight.

“You back, huh?” The bouncer smiled, dapping me up.

“Faithful customer here, my nigga.” I smirked, entering the spot.

“I see you. Enjoy.”

It was thick tonight, reminding me that it was the weekend. I hated coming here on the weekend because it was too many niggas, and the ladies had a lot to choose from, so I wasn’t as highly sought after.

But I was here and feeling good, so I would kick it. I sat down in a section, ordered a couple bottles and some food, then sat back, watching different dancers to see which one I would book for a private dance and then some like I usually did. I needed it because sex with Zosia was damn near unbearable, and sex with Kabrina was no longer on the table.

“Aye, beautiful,” I called out to the pretty, thick, chocolate stripper walking by wearing a pink thong with her titties out. My dick hardened immediately, which let me know she was my pick for the night.

“Hey.” She smiled shyly, which was an act, but I liked it.

“What’s ya name?” I touched her hand as she came up the two steps into my section.

“Paradise.” Her lids lowered lustfully, making me lick my lips.

“You do private dances and favors?”

“How much you paying?”

“I got a grand.”

Her eyes lit up, and I knew I had her. These hood clubs were easy with shit like that. Them bougie hos in the upscale spots wanted way too fucking much for a simple dance and some head, let alone some pussy.

“You ready now?” She smiled brightly.

“Give us a second, little mama.” Some random brown-skinned nigga said, entering my section with another random nigga behind him.

Immediately, I got a bad ass feeling, and for good ass reason. For starters, these niggas looked like trouble, and secondly, they had no reason to come in my section and tell the one form of entertainment to leave unless they were up to no fucking good.

“Nah, baby, stay.” I told her, but when the brown-skinned dude nodded for her to go, she listened to him instead. I couldn’t even blame her.

“I heard you be acting bitch made.” The light-skinned one grimaced, coming from behind his homeboy to stand above me. “Hacking social media accounts and shit like a ho.”

How the fuck did he know that? What the hell was Kabrina into?

Standing, I said, “Look, I don’t know what—” and before I could even get a word out, the light-skinned nigga went across my face with his gun.

From there, both men proceeded to whup my ass until I could no longer even attempt to fight back. As I lay there, bleeding and going in and out of consciousness, wondering when the police would show up, they snatched my watch, other jewelry, and all the cash from my wallet, plus the bottles I’d bought, before the brown-skinned nigga kicked me in my stomach so hard I folded up and gagged.

I lay there for I wasn’t sure how long before I was finally able to sit up. The club was sparsely populated now, and I noticed security standing by.

“We closing up,” he said.

“Did y’all call the police? Who were them niggas that robbed me?” I tried to stand but failed, so he came to help me, being a little too damn rough.

“Nah, we didn’t, but I suggest you forget about this shit right here and press on,” he replied, guiding me to the door.

“What? Why the fuck would I do that? I ain’t scared of them niggas!”

“You should be, and if you don’t wanna listen to me, you can find out the hard way. ’Cause they not even the head nigga in charge.” He left me outside on the corner with my aching body, thumping ass head, and thoughts.

I decided to take my ass home instead of trying to press charges, not even wanting to know who was in charge of them crazy ass niggas, ’cause it was usually an even crazier muthafucka.

As I drove home, though, praying I didn’t pass out, I wondered why them hoodlums had beef with me. I replayed the scene over and over until I remembered the only nigga I had issues with was Unique, and he had that off-kilter ass brother who made me jump off the yacht.

That nigga Unique was gon’ pay for that shit, especially because I’d already given Kabrina back her shit.