Page 5

The next week…

“Okay, that was perfect! Let’s take a quick intermission!” the director, Oscar, yelled out as soon as we finished up the scene of AJ’s and my character having a heated argument in the trap house.

“Great job, Unique.” Oscar nodded to me, patting my shoulder as he bypassed.

I caught AJ sneering a little bit at the comment, and he tried to quickly wipe the hating ass look from his face. I knew the muthafucka thought he was fooling somebody, but I’d peeped the looks, snide comments, and the way he shifted uncomfortably whenever a nigga got a compliment on my work. I ain’t give a fuck though—him hating wasn’t gon’ stop the success. In fact, it fueled the shit.

“’Preciate that,” I replied, even though Oscar was walking off. Little did he know, my great performance was partially my acting skills, and the other half was because I actually had a bone to pick with AJ. “Aye, let me holla at you.” I tapped AJ, who was about to tread off the set.

“What’s good?” he asked, his mood a little somber, which was expected after his whole life blew up for the world.

However, Zosia didn’t appear to be divorcing the nigga, so at least he still had that. I wasn’t privy to what was going on with them behind closed doors, though, and didn’t care to know. My only fucking concern was Kabrina, despite the fact that I shouldn’t have even cared.

“I’m gon’ need you to chill out on Kabrina. I get you upset, but you fucked up. Trying to evict her and snatch shit back that you gave her is some pussy shit.” I spoke honestly and much more calmly than I wanted to since, at the end of the day, a nigga was still at work.

He chuckled mirthlessly, glancing off before focusing back on me. “Man, I ain’t done none of that. I told her she could keep the apartment and the car for as long as she needed it.” He shook his head. “See, that’s what she does though, she lies.”

“ She lies?” I frowned. “Nigga, you hid a whole wife from her, and you got the muthafuckin’ nerve to call her a liar?”

“Look, I’m just calling it like I see it, homie. She be lying, and I low-key think she knew I had a wife and still wanted to get fucked by a famous nigga anyw?—”

His sentence was interrupted when I grabbed his ass up by his collar, shoving him into the table that sat in the middle of the fake kitchen. The loud sound of the wooden chairs scraping across the mock kitchen tile caused everyone on set to look our way, but I didn’t really give a fuck in the moment.

“Watch yo’ fuckin’ mouth, nigga. Like I said, leave Kabrina be and stop trying to force her to become ya fucking doormat.” I tossed his stick leg ass, and he immediately came back at me.

Saying she was my wife and mine to worry about almost slipped from a nigga’s lips. The fuck? I needed to get ahold of my-fucking-self because that wasn’t the narrative at all.

“Who the fuck you grabbing on!” he roared, and for some reason I could tell he was more ashamed that I’d snatched his ass up than anything.

“What’s up then?” I stepped back up just as a few PAs and security stalked over.

“Hey, guys. Let’s chill out. Oscar called for an additional fifteen minutes so you two can cool off,” one PA named Sara stated as security stood between AJ and me.

The guard was my exact height, only a little swoler, so I could take his ass, but I relaxed myself. I’d worked too fucking hard to get to where I was to fumble this popular ass show and let a nigga like AJ elevate within it.

“Keep it up, bitch nigga.” I pointed at him before turning to walk off.

Leaving out of the set, I started toward my trailer so I could have a moment to myself. Something was wrong with my ass, and I couldn’t understand why this shit was happening.

For as long as I’d been fucking and dating around, no woman consumed my thoughts like Kabrina. And no woman, especially, had made me think twice about being married to her.

She wasn’t even really my type, to keep shit a buck. I liked the Analicia, Anastazia, and Presley types. The brown-skinned bitches, dark-skinned ones, and extra points if they were thick.

Kabrina was light skinned, and while she had a nice ass body, she was more so slim thick. She was beautiful, though, and her spirit called to me. I felt like a different nigga while I was with her, and I guessed maybe that was it.

When people said marriage was more than paper, that shit was true as fuck. Since I’d found out she was my wife, I felt the need to look out for her, make sure she was good. And women didn’t bring that shit out of me, normally. The most I would do was put something in a woman’s stomach if she let me fuck, but the shit I was thinking of doing for Kabrina wasn’t like me.

This shit wasn’t Unique Compton, and I was starting to think one of my punk ass brothers put some shit in my food or drink.

Kabrina hadn’t even done shit, but it felt like she came into my fucking life and now had me fucked up, not knowing what I was doing.

As I sat on the couch in my nice ass trailer, I just stared down at my hands, praying silently that God would let this shit pass. I was in a relationship, well two, and didn’t need any fucking drama. Going home to tell my girlfriends I had a fucking wife would grant them full permission to behead a nigga, real shit. This was the opposite of what I’d been preaching to their asses.

Even worse, my family was already looking at a nigga with the side-eye, and after all that shit Asif was talking, I needed to prove that I was serious about the situation I was in.

So having Daisy and Aurora, then marrying Kabrina, looked like some unstable shit. Not to mention, I was hesitant to annul what we had. I was only going along for the moment because I could tell she truly wanted the shit, and I was unsure if I didn’t.

A knock sounded off on my door, making me check the time on the Rolex wrapped around my wrist. The fifteen minutes surely weren’t up, and typically, if we did go over a couple minutes, they allowed the shit and didn’t usually send a PA to get you.

When the door to my trailer swung open before I could even grant the person entry, I knew it wasn’t a typical PA. They were too respectful and afraid of losing their jobs at the same time to do the smallest but disrespectful shit.

“Hey, you okay?” The showrunner and basically queen of this whole show, Tamira, walked in.

“I’m good.” I nodded, wishing she’d get the fuck out, but I had to keep it chill. Like I said, she was the queen around this muthafucka, and the job title showrunner meant exactly that.

Whatever Tamira said went, and because she had so much fucking skin in the game, on top of everything, it was rare and infrequent that she was challenged on anything. She didn’t get this far making bad decisions.

Sitting next to me extra closely, her hand gravitated to the back of my head, caressing it for a bit. She was around my mother’s age, a couple years older, actually, so her touches felt awkward as fuck. Speaking of my mama, if she witnessed this shit, she would be all over Tamira.

Being a mother of six boys for a while, and then seven, one thing my mama hated was when much older women came onto us.

I frequently remembered her going in on Khari for the shit several times, and how she wore Lequay’s fifteen-year-old ass out with a leather belt when she caught him on the phone with a twenty-five-year-old, then made him give up the woman’s address so she could break her foot off in her ass.

I’d never heard that nigga’s voice get that high-pitched like it did during that ass whupping, and it had all of us that were younger scared to fucking death. Lisara St. Thomas was a firm believer of no one being too old for a good ass whupping.

All of us had dabbled with older women when we had no business doing the shit—except for Bashar, since Nixi locked his ass down at a young ass age and into adulthood—but only those older two had been caught.

“You know I wanna make sure my star is good.” She spoke against my ear, making the hairs on the back of my fucking neck rise.

I met Tamira when I was trying to get this role on Dough Boyz . Initially, when I auditioned years ago, they told me I was good, but I needed a little more work. I felt defeated but ran into her on my way out. Tamira promised me that if I did something for her, she would do something for me, and that would be giving me the role I had auditioned for. I was twenty-two and so hungry for this shit that I agreed. Not to mention, everyone who studied the industry or paid attention knew Tamira was highly regarded within it.

“I ain’t the star. That’s Ramonté.”

“Yeah, but look at how he’s behaving, Nique. He’s a drunk who we have to work around constantly.” She sighed, now massaging the back of my neck. “This is his last season.”

That got my attention.

“It is?” I frowned.

“Yep.” She smirked, finally taking her fucking hand off me. Usually, I would check a female for touching me when I didn’t want her to, but I felt stuck when it came to Tamira. She held my career in her fucking hands, and I hadn’t gotten to the point where I could move how I wanted to. She could end my shit with one email to the right fucking person—she’d done the shit to muthafuckas before. “I’m tired of his ass. Him missing call times, us having to reshoot certain scenes several times because he’s too drunk. This season was supposed to be wrapped up already, but it’s not, because of his ass. So I got with Kiki, and she came back to me with a perfect way to write him out and kill him off.”

See. I contemplated putting a bullet in her head, but they would cancel the show, so essentially, I would be out of a job either fucking way.

“He know?”

“No, but we’ll tell him on his last day. He’s too unpredictable to tell him now because he might not show up to film the rest of the show.”

“I see.” I nodded then stood. “We only had a small break. I gotta get back out there.”

“I told them you needed more time.” She climbed onto her knees and reached to unbuckle my jeans.

This on top of having a new wife and two girlfriends made a nigga’s life messier than an episode of Jerry Springer . I never thought there was such a thing as having too many women until right now.

“Tamira.” I moved her hands. “I just got into it with that nigga AJ. I need to clear my fucking head so I can go back on set and work.”

“What better way to clear your head then?” She reached through the slit in my boxers, smiling salaciously.

“I think I’m good. Real shit.” I gripped her thin wrists.

“Oh, you’re good?” Her brow raised, and her whole demeanor made a nigga take pause.

Not saying anything in response, I sat down and let her get back to business, not missing the wide smile she had before taking my dick into her mouth.

* * *

Pulling into my designated parking space at the apartment building I owned, I shut down the engine and hopped out with a lot on my mind. Truthfully, I had no business being here right now, trying to visit Kabrina, but she’d been on my mind, and I wanted to check on her.

From being exposed on the internet as a mistress, to losing clients—something I learned from social media first and then her—I knew she was going through a lot. The pregnancy was just the horrible fucking cherry on top.

I wanted to believe her when she said the shit wasn’t mine, but I couldn’t confidently say I hadn’t hit that night. I hoped I didn’t, not only because that wasn’t how I wanted to become a father, if I chose to, but also because I didn’t like having sexual encounters I couldn’t remember, and especially didn’t like it when she couldn’t remember the shit.

It made a nigga feel like a rapist low-key.

Once I made it up to her studio, I rang the doorbell, stepping back some as I waited.

“Hey.” She peeked her head out, brown hair falling all seductively and shit like she was featuring in a damn shampoo commercial.

“Aye, I just came to check on you. You gon’ let a nigga in?”

“Uh, sure.” She widened the door to allow me inside.

Entering, I took in the way she’d made the place hers. It’d been empty for so long that it was strange seeing the shit decked out like this.

“How you doing?” I asked as I took a seat on her small couch.

She joined me before saying, “I’m fine. I could be worse, honestly.” She gave me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, letting me know she didn’t feel it. “I heard something happened on set between you and AJ. Saw it on social media, but it had no details.”

“Yeah, I tried to talk to him about fucking with you, and shit went left…” I opted out of telling her that he’d called her a liar and how she knew about his wife. She had enough shit to stress over.

“I see.” She looked away, and for some reason, she looked beautiful as fuck right now. Her outfit was laid-back—a simple pair of sweat shorts and a tank top—but she looked good. “I appreciate you, Nique, but I don’t need you jeopardizing your career or reputation for me. You’ve worked too hard to get to where you are.”

“You right, I have, but I had to check that nigga.”

“Well, thanks, but don’t make it a habit. One of us needs to have a career if this thing is gonna work,” she joked, and my delayed laugh was embarrassing as fuck.

For a second, I thought she was serious, and I was low-key with the shit.

“Right. Niggas gon’ forget about this shit and start booking you again, watch.”

“No.” She shook her head, gripping the edge of her couch and looking down at her slipper covered feet. “Society doesn’t forgive women that easily. I will always be the home wrecker.” She picked her head up. “But makeup is what I love, so I’m going to have to pivot because I can’t give it up. I’m thinking of starting my own makeup line. I’ve always wanted to, but the current events have forced me to focus on it sooner. I’m gonna start small with some glosses or lipsticks or both and then expand.” She shut her notebook that sat on the coffee table and said, “Gonna get my business plan together so I can hopefully get a bank loan for startup money.”

I liked listening to her talk, and I guessed it was because I wasn’t used to females like Kabrina. Daisy didn’t speak on shit like goals and what she had planned for life. She posed for social media and collected a check for it. As for Aurora, she did YouTube and worked front desk for some cosmetic company and seemed to be content with shit staying that way. At least that was what I assumed because she never spoke on what her actual fucking plan was.

“That’s a good ass idea. You a hustler, I see.” I nodded in approval.

“I have to be. I’ve never really had anything given to me or done for me, and I guess that’s why I took it so willingly and happily when AJ offered it.” She shook her head at herself seemingly. “It was nice to kick my feet up for a while, but I realize all that shit comes with a price.”

“Not always,” I said, making her look my way for a moment. “Sometimes people do shit for others because they care and don’t expect shit back.”

“I can’t see you doing that, so you must be speaking on someone else,” she jested, flashing her pretty smile.

“Nah, I am talking about me. I didn’t rent out my studio for a little bit of nothing because I want something or need shit from you, Kabrina,” I replied, making her smile drop. “I did it because I give a fuck.”

“Why though?”

“To keep it real, I don’t even fucking know, but I do. You just seem like you don’ had it hard for a long time, and a nigga wanna provide you with some relief.”

She stared at me for a while, her brown eyes moving across my face for a beat.

“You’ve done enough.”

“Well I got connects within St. Thomas Financial, so when you ready for that bank loan, let a nigga know.”

“Oh yeah, your stepfather started it, right?”

“Nah, his great grandfather did, but it’s been passed down, so now my brother is running shit.”

“That’s amazing. Our people need to keep doing shit like that.” She nodded. “But again, I appreciate you, but I cannot keep taking things from men whether it’s given freely or not. I don’t ever want to be in this position again.”

“No offense, but you took shit from a boy. Men don’t take shit back.” She shifted uncomfortably at the sound of my statement, darting her eyes away from mine. “Can I use ya bathroom or nah?”

“Of course, Unique.”

“I don’t know. You females be funny acting with shit like that.” I stood, making my way toward the bathroom as Kabrina talked her shit.

After taking a piss, I washed my hands, smirking a bit at all the girly, frilly shit she had in this fucking bathroom, including the loud ass scent plugged into the wall. Everything Kabrina did made me feel some type of fucking way.

After dropping the paper towel to dry my hands into the trashcan, I stepped out into the hallway to overhear Kabrina on the phone. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop on her ass, but when I heard the word termination, I couldn’t help the shit. I waited as she finished gathering all the information like prices and shit, then started out into the living room once I was sure she’d hung up.

“I know you were back there listening,” she said as soon as I pulled up and sat on the couch. She chuckled subtly when I couldn’t think of a timely response. “I’ll be seeing the doctor in two days, and she will be able to give me the conception date. I want an abortion regardless, but I am sure this is AJ’s, and I will let you know what she says.”

“How you feel about that shit?” I quizzed, and my question seemingly caught her off guard.

“Umm, I’m okay. I guess. It’s an unnecessary expense, and though I never saw myself getting this done, I know I would regret it if I didn’t.”

“Even if it’s mine?”

“Unique.”

“Aight.” I threw my hands up.

“I don’t want you to be offended by anything, but you know deep down me being pregnant by you isn’t ideal for either of us. Just like this marriage. We want different things in life. I want a monogamous relationship, a marriage built on love, and children made out of the same. You want to be a playboy superstar.”

“Yeah. Sometimes.” I leaned forward.

“Sometimes?”

“Nothing. If you need any help with this shit or anything else, you keep in mind that I got you. I know you don’t want it, but while you my wife, let me do what I can. I wasn’t raised to take shit back or throw shit in ya face, so you ain’t gotta worry about shit.”

“I could use some food.” She half smiled, not showing her teeth, and it was still mesmerizing as fuck.

“I can handle that for sure.” I took my phone out.

I didn’t know why, but kicking it with Kabrina over a meal sounded like a trip to Disneyland for a little ass kid right now. Asif’s target talk had yet to leave my mind, and I think that shit was fucking me up.

Hours later…

I’d kicked the shit with Kabrina longer than a nigga had intended, and strangely enough, I only thought about fucking her twice the whole night, which was natural since she was a beautiful girl.

Majority of the night, though, I was so wrapped up in the conversations we were having about trivial shit like movies, songs, and her belief in vision boards. Why was every fucking thing about her intriguing to a nigga? I just wanted to spend the rest of my fucking days staring at her while she talked, ate, or just sat there not even doing shit.

Low-key, I didn’t wanna leave, but I had to. Poly or not, I was still two people’s boyfriend and couldn’t go all night without checking in.

As soon as I stepped inside the crib, I felt weighted as fuck. Like I wanted to turn around and run right back to where the fuck I’d just come from. I hated this shit.

I ventured to the kitchen, grabbing a soda from the fridge to give myself some time before I went upstairs and most likely found Aurora in my bedroom, since this was one of her nights with me.

Typically, I split the week, spending four days with one and three with the other. Then whoever got three days that week, got four the next and so on. I wasn’t gon’ lie; juggling this shit was more difficult than expected, but I would never admit the shit aloud.

“I thought I heard you come in.” Aurora walked into the kitchen, just as I chuckled at Kabrina saying she was shocked to know I watched more than hood movies.

“Oh… yeah,” was all I could think to say, feeling like Aurora had caught me cheating when it was only in my fucking head.

“I was about to get into the jacuzzi. Did you wanna join me?” She placed a hand on her hip, donning a light blue bikini.

Nah, I didn’t. I wanted to shower, brush my teeth, and lie down, but I couldn’t do that shit or say that shit. Aurora had been patient as fuck with a nigga, not making a peep when I had to cancel on her or travel during her time with me. She barely fussed when Daisy bulldozed our time together or what was supposed to be our time together.

“Of course,” I lied, polishing off the small ass canned soda. I gave her a smile as I tossed the shit into the trash before saying, “I’ll meet you out there.” I placed a hand on her small waist to kiss the side of her face as she smiled widely.

While Aurora was on the skinnier side, I was still attracted to her and that pretty ass brown skin she kept blemish and mark free.

Heading upstairs, I quieted my steps so as not to wake Daisy up because I wasn’t in the mood for her energy right now. She was always up and usually trying to find ways to interfere with whatever the fuck Aurora and I had going on. Usually, I was up for the challenge, but I had too much shit on my mind at the moment to deal with the bullshit.

I quickly changed into some trunks, then met my girl in the backyard. She was already soaking in the warm jacuzzi, bubbles going as she put a glass of champagne to her lips.

“Want some?” she offered, holding up the neck of the bottle.

“Nah, you know ya man likes his shit a little stronger,” I said, slipping down into the piping hot ass water. “Damn.” I frowned. “Only the devil can stand this type of fucking temperature, baby. Let me find out.”

Laughing, she replied, “You know I’m too angelic for that.”

“You are.” I finally settled a bit, able to withstand the heat somewhat as I smirked at her. The cold air of Los Angeles once it hit nighttime didn’t make shit better for me going in though.

Floating over to me, Aurora straddled my lap, hugging my neck. Placing my hands on her waist, I tried to focus on the moment at hand, like she deserved, but I found my mind drifting in the middle of her talking often. Aurora wasn’t the type to call it out, though, which I was thankful as fuck for. That was more of Daisy’s type of time.

She kissed me, seemingly out of nowhere, but it was simply because a nigga wasn’t into the moment right now. As she started to grind in my lap, I gripped her waist to halt the shit.

“What’s the problem, Unique?” She frowned.

“I’m just… I had a bad day, and I got a lot on my mind, love. It ain’t you.” I moved her from my lap. “I’m gon’ make it up to you.” I stood.

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that a lot lately,” she murmured before taking a sip.

“What?” I frowned.

“Nothing.” She kept her eyes across the yard, refusing to look up at me. “I’ll be waiting.”

I stared at her for a bit, hoping she gave me some eye contact and trying to conjure up what the fuck to say, but I couldn’t. It seemed like I only knew what the fuck to say when I was talking to Kabrina for some reason. Before her, I never had many issues with Aurora nor Daisy, so deep or emotional ass conversations weren’t a thing the three of us had worked on.

I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me, but I knew I didn’t wanna be here right now.

Choosing to leave Aurora be, I went back inside the house, to my bedroom, locking the door before I ventured to my en suite to brush my teeth and shower before bed. Of course, I dozed off thinking about my secret wife and all the trivial but interesting shit she’d told me today.