“I’m glad to see y’all back at it,” he said, letting his eyes rake down to my cleavage.
“Yeah, we were just about to pour one up to try to loosen up and set the mood.”
“Oh, well pour another one for me,” Ceasar said.
“You can have mine,” I said, passing my cup to him.
“You sure? Why you not drinking?” Ceasar wondered.
He already knew the answer, so I didn’t bother dignifying his question with the whole answer. “My stomach is bothering me. I was hoping I could come down here to sing and get my mind off it.”
Ceasar threw my drink back, hissing before he started talking. “One of the producers was playing the demo for that new single, Cy. That shit is gon’ be a smash, man.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. That’s why I gotta let my girl shake these nerves off. We’re about to make a hit. B. Rock is supposed to be here in an hour to lay down the track. We’re just warming up for him.”
“You ready, Ms. Carteay?” Ceasar asked, looking over at me.
I lifted my shoulders. “I don’t have to get ready to sing. Besides, ready or not, I’m here now.”
“Aw, hell, don’t sound so bleak. You act like you’re a prisoner here, baby girl.”
“Sometimes I feel like it, Ceasar. I want to live life on my own terms.”
“You can do whatever you want to do in the privacy of your own home, but once you walk out that door,youare a representation of this company. You are a role model.”
“And this one over here is such a great role model?” I asked, pointing at Cyrus right as he popped a pill in his mouth.
“Don’t put me in it,” he muttered.
“We have to be more strategic with you, Carteay. Women love to see other women who they can relate to in the spotlight. You two are the perfect pair because all the ladies between twelve and forty-two want to be you, and all the niggas that want to be a rich thug look up to Cy. Together, y’all are couple goals to everybody that loves hip-hop and R&B.”
“I don’t want to be a role model. I just want to sing.”
“That ain’t up to you. You’re in the spotlight. You wanted to be famous, and I made you famous. I gave you what you wanted. You’re one of the biggest R&B artists in the game right now.”
“You’re exactly right. I’m a singer. I’m no one’s role model, nor do I want to be.”
“You should have thought about that before you entered that contest.”
“How could I have known I would end up in prison?” I asked.
“I can never understand why you’re so ungrateful. Nobody would know who the fuck you were if it weren’t for me and that damn contest you keep crying about. I made you, little ass girl. I put you in singing lessons and piano lessons to hone your skills and finally make you worth listening to. I helped you realize your wildest dreams. You remember when you said that? I took you out of a two-bedroom apartment, living with your mama, and put both of y’all in mansions. The least I can get is a little gratitude around here.”
“Cease, chill, man. She’s just expressing herself,” Cy said, finally speaking up.
“You know what, let me get out of here and let y’all get to work,” Ceasar said, standing from his seat.
“Nah, stay. I want you to see how we work together,” Cyrus suggested.
“Here, drink some water. I know your vocal cords need some lubrication from all that hollering and crying you been in here doing,” Ceasar offered, extending a glass of water to me. “I don’t need no excuses when it’s time to record.”
I rolled my eyes at Cyrus as I took the drink from Ceasar and gulped it down. My eyes shifted to him as he took the glass out of my hand.
“I ain’t gon’ stay in y’all’s hair. I know it’s better if I get my ass out of here while I can. I’m expecting a chart topper out of you two.”
“You already know how we do when we get together,” Cyrus bragged.
“I’m looking forward to hearing it,” Ceasar said, opening the door and letting himself out.
