“What’s that?”
“You talented as fuck.”
“Preciate it.” Logic’s face remained stoic, but the kid in him was dying to run around in circles. Fucking Southwest Rah called him talented.
“Why ain’t nobody ever heard of you?”
“Probably because I don’t be on my shit like I should.”
“So you not serious about this music shit?”
“I am, but I have other responsibilities and right now music not putting food on the table, you feel me.”
“I do.” Rahlo rubbed the back of his neck. “But check this out, I just finished jumping through hoops to get my label off the ground, and shit is pretty new, but I want to sign you.”
“Me?”
“Yea. I mean we need to talk through shit in a more formal setting, but talent like yours don’t come round too often, and I’d be a fool to let the shit slip by. You don’t have to give me an answer right now, but I wanna invite you to a listening party I’m hosting tonight. It’s for my new album, my last album for a minute, and I want to play the songs we recorded,” Rahlo explained. “I actually want to have my team post them, but for legal reasons, I need to run it by you.”
“You wanna post my songs?” Logic asked in disbelief.
“Yea.” Rahlo found his state of shock funny.
Reaching for his back pocket, Rahlo pulled out an envelope. “This has all the information for the party. It’s black tie, so come in your best shit and no fighting nigga.”
“This shit real?” Logic’s jaw twitched, not in the mood for any bullshit.
“Yea. Like I said, we need to talk about some shit, but yea, it’s real. I’ll see you tonight.” Rahlo stuck out his hand and Logic took the card.
“Aight.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Without another word, Rahlo headed back to his car, leaving Logic standing there trying to digest what had just happened. He stared at the card then back up at the big black trucks driving away. Had it not been for the squeals of his sisters, Logic would have thought he was dreaming.
“What he say?” Shugg questioned, pulling on his arm.
“He likes my music,” Logic said above a whisper.
“Period!” Spice clapped her hands. “'Cause ain’t nobody messing with my brother!” she shouted.
“Go get Sage and pack up yall stuff. I got a few things to handle,” Logic instructed, fishing for his phone. Excitement caused his fingers to tremble as he dialed Al’s number. When the phone started to ring, Logic walked in a circle with the phone pressed to his ear.
“What nigga?” Al answered on the third ring, like his phone wasn’t in his hand the whole time.
“Why you gotta act like a bitch?” Logic snorted.
“Fuck outta here, and if this yo way of apologizing, I don’t want it.”
“Yea, you a real bitch. I’m not apologizing for what happened, but my fault about fucking up what you set up. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”
“Yea, aight. What’s up, ugly ass nigga?”
“Where you at?”
“In the fucking house. You know I don’t have no fucking friends except your street fighting ass.”
“You sound gay as fuck,” Logic chuckled. “But check this out. I was at the court with Sage shooting hoops and-
“Wow, so you over there shooting hoops and I’m in the house sulking over our fight.” Al shook his head. “You’re a fucked up individual.”
