Now you're coming back

I looked at the closing elevator door confused as hell. The hell was that?

When Laya stumbled in that room, she looked like she'd just seen a ghost. How did that nigga know her name?

I turned around to head back to the conference room to figure out why my girl was so upset.

"Wayno give us a minute. Show Zora the studio space downstairs" I commanded.

She looked to be just as confused as me, and that showed that she prolly didn't know what was going on either.

The other two men were standing up, whispering amongst themselves. They younger one seemed to be murmuring harshly to his father. I took a seat and the head of the table and cleared my throat to get their attention.

"Who the fuck are y'all? And what the fuck did y'all do to Laya?" Ain't no beating around the bush, let's deal with this shit now so I could find her.

Both of them turned around, but the younger one spoke first, "I can assure you that whatever is going on between Allaya and I is none of your concern Mr. Brewster" he said approaching the table. Who the fuck was he tryna scare?

I smirked at him before pushing myself from the table and getting up. "Nah nigga it's East to you and it's my fuckin' business when you got my girl running out rooms crying and shit. So I'm only gonna ask this one more fuckin' time. What are you to her?" I asked looking directly at Zora's dad.

I had more patience than normal dealing with this shit. I hated seeing Laya cry, and this time she looked more than upset, she looked heart broken.

"I'm her father and are you having relations with my daughter?" He asked becoming angered.

It all made a little more sense now. Laya told me about the dead beat nigga that was her dad and that meant the knuckle head nigga next to him was her brother.

"Relations? You wanna know if I'm fucking her? What you need to be worried about is how you gon fix what you broke." I said seriously.

He looked me up and down then sat at the table across from me. "Huh you know East, you just signed one of yo biggest artists today and this how you talk to ha manager?"

And just like that he dropped that phony ass British accent and spoke like the street nigga I could tell he was.

"Ion have a problem with Zora. It's y'all two."

I said getting up to leave the room.

When I reached the door I turned back around to answer his first question. "You wanna know if I'm with your daughter?" I asked. They both looked at me waiting for an answer. "All you gotta know is I'm the only nigga she calling daddy." I sized him up before heading downstairs to look for Laya.

I rode that damn train all the way to

Brooklyn. It was actually going downtown to

Manhattan but I jumped off after this girl recognized me from the video, and asked me intruding question after question. So, at the Fulton Station, I switched lines.

Getting back to Harlem should've been my number one priority, considering I didn't have any money and I was in a different borough.

For a moment, I thought about going to

Bri's condo in Dumbo, but immediately decided against it when I realized that I would have to explain my long list of daddy issues to her. Then, when she'd realize that I kept it from her for so long, she'd be hurt because I never opened up.

I didn't have time for that. So I walked about two miles until I reached my old neighborhood, where my previous apartment was located. There was an ice cream truck on the corner with kids lined off in front and tents for the Farmer's Market on the other side where their parents probably were. It was a quaint black neighborhood, yet to be gentrified by Whole Foods, Starbucks...and white people. Most of the businesses were black-owned too, right down to the corner store.

The corner store!

Maybe Mr. Jones was there today and he could help me out. He was the owner of the store, a tall and husky man with a balding head and thick grey beard. You couldn't miss him, partly because of his height, the fact that he was always screaming at someone and the big gold Super Bowl ring he wore on his left hand. He had been a wide receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles back in the day, and right after his big win he started using drugs, messed up his knee and was forced to retire. People said that's what made him so bitter.

But he was always nice to me, probably because I had manners. He always said that if I ever needed anything, I could come to him. Even though I'd hate to take it, I hoped he still had that offer.

I pushed the tethered door of the shop open, and the familiar sound of the little bell welcomed me. There weren't a lot of people in here but I was greeted by the smell of generic cleaning supplies and hot dogs. I walked towards the counter stepping over a bag of spilled Hot Cheetos and realized that no one was there.

"Hello? Hello?" I called out.

"You lookin' for Mr. Jones huh?" Rashad smirked at me. You could tell that he was a drug dealer just by looking at him. Who else would wear a hoodie with a matching durag in ninety degree weather? Whenever I came home from classes or work, he'd be selling right in front of my building with his large black Escalator parked on the curb. We always got into it, he'd hit on me and I'd tell him about his ass because he didn't no how to talk to women.

He placed all of his items which consisted of Sprite, chips and candy on the sticky wooden counter.

"Yo Lynn come ring this shit up!" He shouted towards the door behind the register. "What chu doing all the way down here? I thought you moved in with a rich nigga and didn't fuck with the hood no mo" he smirked.

I rolled my eyes at him. This was not the hood, he was always coming with some bullshit. "Shad I'm not in the mood for you today and yes I'm looking for Mr. Jones, do you know if he's here?"

"No he ain't here...", the lady I'm guessing was Lynn exited the door behind the register. Her short haircut was gelled down in finger waves and she wore large gold bamboo hoops that somehow worked well with her uniform. "...and Rashad what I tell you bout shouting my name like that." she said while chewing on a wad of bubblegum.

"Lynn shut the fuck up and give me my stuff." He said rudely. I smacked his arm and glared at him, which he dismissed.

"Girl don't worry about him, he just mad. He gon know who the fuck he talkin' to when he tries to come by me tonight." She smacked.

"Ain't nobody fuckin' witchu Lynn. That was one time, get ova it and gimme two lighters and a pack of wrappers..." I glared at him again, "...please".

Why was I here again?

"You want somethin'?" He asked me. I shook my head no, but he smacked his teeth and ordered Lynn to get me a chicken patty.

"You ain't gon be complaining about my rude ass when I offered to get you somethin"

"That's $9.50" Lynn said while handing me the paper bag.

"Here keep the change, I know you need it.", Rashad exclaimed while throwing a $10 bill on the table. Is it bad that I wanted to laugh?

I walked with him out the store and up the street to wear his Escalade was parked across from my old building. "Why would you do that? That's not nice" I scolded while trying to hold in a laugh.

"She know it's all love. But that's what she get for trying to take me to court for child support. Say what you want but I takes care of mine.", he exclaimed.

We sat on the steps right outside my old apartment. I took my patty out the bag and handed him the rest. He took out the wrappers to start rolling up.

"You smoking your own product now?" I smirked.

"Don't worry 'bout what I'm doing. Worry about how you gon get yo ass to Harlem. What you doing all the way out here anyway?"

How'd he know that's where I lived?

I chewed the rest of the food in my mouth and thought carefully about my answer, what was I doing down here?

"I took a walk, and ended up in Brooklyn.", I said with a shrug.

He shook his head at me and proceeded to light the blunt. He took a pull and offered me some, to which I declined.

God knows where Rashad's spitty lips have been.

"Das cap and you know it. You wearing designer jewelry and Yeezy's, you expect me to believe that?"

At least you couldn't say that he was stupid.

I gazed off at the space in front of me and contemplated talking to him. Might as well get some of it out, besides who was he gonna tell?

"I saw my dad for the first time in eight years today. He didn't even say anything to me."

"So what, I ain't ever met my damn daddy."

"That's the point. I know my father. At least I knew him for fifteen years of my life. We use to be so close, like literally I went everywhere with him. Then he left, never contacted me and made a new family." I paused for a while finally getting my feelings sorted enough for me to speak on them. Rashad waited patiently for me to continue. "That shit hurts. The time, the memories that he should've had with me, he had with them. He's supposed to be proud of me, support me, LOVE ME but I don't mean shit." I couldn't even cry if I wanted to, I did all of that on the 4 train.

"Damn you sure you don't want none." he said offering me a hit again.

"No Shad I don't know where your lips have been"

"On yo puss-"

"Say it...say it and see if I don't punch you in your mouth. Knock that fake ass grill out."

Like I said, he didn't know how to talk to women.

He laughed and raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright Laya Mayweather. I apologize. But real shit, don't let that stop you from living yo life. I know that prolly hurt like a bitch but that nigga ain't shit for leavin' you. He missed out on something good, you smart, fine as hell and you doing you own thing? Seem to me like you did alright without him."

I did do alright without him. But that still didn't answer all of the questions I had.

Rashad stubbed out the rest of his joint, and picked up his phone. "Damn East got the whole city on red looking for yo ass".

What?

"East? How do you know Dave?"

"He's a famous rapper Laya, who don't know him" he said in a duh tone.

"I mean you said he was looking for me...how do you know?"

He paused for awhile as if organizing his words.

"East knows some niggas, that knows some niggas, that knows some niggas that I work for. He must've told them to look out for you and they just told me."

I was trying to decrypt his words and decipher exactly what he was saying.

"Anyway let's go, imma take you home. Just show me where it is." He said getting up and dusting off his pants. "I'm 'bout to make a bag off yo ass." He said lowly, I barely even heard him.

"What?"

"Nothin get in the car"

Rashad was mostly harmless and if he tried anything I was convinced that I could overpower him.

I was walking around to the back seat when he stopped me.

"Unh unh get yo ass in the front. I ain't no damn chauffeur." he grumbled.

I slammed the back seat door and made my way to the front and stepped myself in.

"Keep slamming' shit Allaya Lalani Samira Daniels" Rashad grumbled before speeding off.

"You read my mail ONE time and now you know my whole government."

About forty five minutes later he pulled into the parking garage under the penthouse.

"Thank you Rashad. I really do appreciate it."

"Man this ain't nothing and I got something fo' you tho."

He reached across me to the glove compartment and pulled out a large black leather pouch. I tried to ignore the two guns that were nestled casually next to it.

Yeah, it was time to leave.

From the bag he pulled out two small plastic baggies with green buds of weed in them.

"Here, this for all them times I shorted you when you made me mad."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I use to buy this shit from him religiously and now I had to find out that his scrawny ass had been scheming me. I snatched the two bags from him and inspected the product, they both had the signature blue droplet sticker on them that I guess was his supplier's logo.

"Gee thanks. This better be the good shit too or I swear I'll call the cops on you and tell them your location."

"You ain't gon snitch on me over some bad weed"

"Try me and see."

He took the two bags out my hand and replaced them with two new ones from his own pocket. I knew the little shit was a scammer.

"Damn ion even know why I put up with this shit" he grumbled as I got out the car. I was making my way inside the elevator when he rolled down the window I shouted at me,

"Aye! Tell yo fine ass friend Bri, that daddy misses her and whenever she stops fuckin' with that white boy, I'm here."

Then he sped off. What was wrong with him?

I put in the six digit code to Dave's penthouse and mentally prepared myself for the verbal ass whooping that my boyfriend would give me. Dave hated when I went out by myself. He always wanted me to take James or himself with me, because "New York was a dangerous city".

I had been living here by myself, just fine without him so I didn't see what the problem was. But now that I had been gone for hours, with no phone or money, I could only pray that he would just be upset with me.

Actually, I don't care. I don't want a lecture, I just want to shower and sleep.

The elevator opened up to reveal an empty penthouse. All the lights were on in the foyer and living room but no one was there. I crept into the kitchen and there was no one occupying that space either.

Great, I was alone.

I entered the small section that use to be my room. I hadn't been in here in a week because I basically lived on Dave's side. I occasionally came in to grab a pair of shoes or some beauty products, then moved it into Dave's room.

It looked the same as how I had left it before Miami. It was clean with the bed made up and everything put away. Even the bathroom was still spotless.

I stripped down from the clothes I was wearing earlier, then stood at my bathroom sink to removed my makeup. With each swipe of the makeup wipe revealing the girl underneath. When all of it was gone I stared back at my tired reflection.

"Damn I look just like him"

Ain't that some shit.

Afterwards I took a long hot shower and washed my face and hair. I scrubbed my skin with the white cotton towel until it because sore and red. I just wanted to be clean, if I was clean then maybe I'd be good enough.

I watched the water swirl down the shower drain, shimmering with the white light.

Taking my white robe off the hook, I slipped my arms through it and left it open while I wrapped my hair in another white towel.

I went into my closet and stretched up to the top shelf and to pull down the small wooden box that I hadn't opened in a year. Inside, I kept some old pictures, a marble ash tray and rolling papers.

Leaving the closet, I grabbed the bottle of white nail polish from my vanity, one of the bags that Rashad gave me and placed a vinyl from Garnett Silk on my record player before going to my balcony.

The sun was gone and the vibe was right. I was about to make it even better after I rolled this joint up. I sat on one of the lounge chairs with my legs crossed in front of me. I took a wrapping paper from the box and placed the old ash tray that was in it next to me on the table, then broke down the weed between my manicured nails. Carefully separating the leaves from the seeds and little sticks.

When I finally was done I licked the seams and rolled it tightly. I was proud that I still remembered how to do it, even though I hadn't smoked in well over a year. It was something I did occasionally when I was super stressed or slightly depressed, especially with school but I didn't find a need for it since I graduated. But today, well today called for me getting high.

I took the matching marble lighter from the box and lit it, taking a long pull and holding it in. Then blowing it out through my mouth. I held it between my lips and lifted my knee up to paint my toes. Occasionally I'd stop concentrating from painting, smoke and study the photos in the box. My mummy loved taking pictures of everyone. She bought me a polaroid camera for my tenth birthday, and I took pictures for a whole year after that.

I was either high as fuck or my music was too loud because I didn't even notice when Dave popped up on the side of me.

From the stressed look on his face, I couldn't tell if he felt sorry for me or if I was gonna be sorry for disappearing.

_______________

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(Gave You Everything by Garnett Silk)