Maybe I misread the shit. I clearly misread him.
She couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach. She hated to be stupid for a man... again... after she had told herself another nigga would never... another nigga had. Demi had, andeven though she barely knew him, it hurt. Bad. Cheapened by an expensive night, Demi had maxed out her emotions and left her body in debt.
It had always been her problem. She fell for men too easily. Trusted them too soon. Demi and his crazy had sucked her in as soon as he had overpaid to hear her sing.
Charlie couldn’t help the text she sent him next.
CHARLIE
Wow.
That was all she had for him. Disappointment and shock because she hadn’t seen this coming. Not expecting a response, she clicked out of the screen and then grabbed the keys to her car, heading out the door.
Rehearsal was a must. She had avoided it all week. She wasn’t sick in love. It wasn’t that serious to her. She had only known Demi for 24 hours. He had shown up in her life like a flash of lightning only to disappear just as fast, but she was in her feelings. The pride of a woman was a motherfucker and she had injured herself. She had allowed too much, too soon and she knew that when women did that, they normally didn’t control the tempo. Charlie felt foolish and she dreaded facing Justin. She had allowed Demi to be terrible to him. That should have been her indication that he wasn’t shit. She had learned to judge a man by the way he treated ordinary people, not those he loved.
Her nerves frayed at the edges as she drove to the park where her band sometimes played. A little place where families went on Sundays. Michigan didn’t have many sunny days, so when it was warm, the park was the place to be. Charlie loved to sing. She would sing anywhere. So, putting a fedora on the ground and singing as the sweet air kissed her lungs was a vibe. A preference,in fact. It wasn’t about the tips. It was about creativity. About the freedom because freedom was important to her these days.
When she arrived, she called Justin’s phone. It had never felt awkward between them before. It was what she appreciated about him. They just enjoyed the time they spent together, enjoyed the music, put on a good show, and let the energy flow downstream. It was when you tried to get water to flow upward that things got tricky. Unnatural. She and Justin’s chemistry was effortless. A dope-ass musical marriage. Every singer had one. The Babyface to her Toni. The Jermaine Dupri to Monica. The Tommy Mottola to Mariah. Justin was a musical genius, and their sessions took away all the bad things in her life. She had been stuck in a rut for a week. This was much needed.
“What up, Charles? I see you. I’m parked in the back,” he said. Charlie lifted her eyes and saw him flagging her down. She parked next to him and exited the car.
“Where’s everybody else?” she asked, grabbing her guitar from the back seat.
“Big Matt got his kid last minute. Brent can’t make it,” he informed.
“Should we reschedule? After the week I’ve had I’m so okay with that,” she admitted.
“Nah, it only takes two to catch a good vibe, Charles. Besides, my strings miss you,” he said.
Charlie smiled. “Can’t lie. I miss those strings too,” she said. Justin was the most skilled musician she had ever heard. He read music because he was classically trained, but the way he played his guitar wasn’t trained at all. It was straight from the soul.
“We over here with it,” he said, leading the way. They walked beyond the play area where screaming kids ran by, passing the normal bench they usually posted up at. When they arrived at the fountain, Charlie stopped walking.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
“Just a vibe. I thought you might like it and an apology for being an asshole with your boyfriend the other day,” he said.
A red and white checkered picnic blanket rested on the green grass and a woven picnic basket sat on top. A bottle of champagne in a bucket. A bouquet of flowers sitting next to that.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected. “And about that. I’m sorry if I was flaky with you.”
“No apologies, Charles. Let’s pretend like it didn’t even happen. Eat some food, sip a little bit, and play because I could tell when you pulled up that you really need to play,” Justin said.
Charlie was relieved that he didn’t make a big deal out of things. “Is it that obvious?” she asked.
“I just notice your heart when it’s heavy,” he said.
Charlie was taken aback. Did he? Notice that? Had he noticed it before? Because it was her solemn that had made her want to sing in his band in the first place.
Charlie scoffed.
Justin sat on the blanket, grabbing the bottle of champagne and then resting his elbows on his knees as he popped the cork. The bubbly flowed and he moved to let it flow out onto the grass some before grabbing a plastic flute and filling it for her.
Charlie came to her knees, sitting down her guitar case and accepting the drink.
She sipped the champagne, feeling it fizz in her chest as he grabbed his guitar. His fingers knew those damn strings so well.
He kept the tempo by tapping the wood of the instrument while playing perfectly.
