“What you need my number for?”
“You know, in case I have some sort of breakthrough with the vocal coach and need to come in to record. I don’t want to bother Onyx if it’ll just be you and me in the studio.”
She had a point. Since Kas was the producer, he was the person Zahra would work with the most, so having his contactinformation was vital. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he unlocked it and handed it to Zahra to program her number.
“So, um, that one girl that was here the last time… Yanna, I think her name was. Is she your girlfriend?”
“You can say that.”
“Oh, it’s weird because I saw someone on IG asking if you were her man, and she said no.”
“You follow her on IG?”
“No, this was actually under a photo Munroe posted. I do followher,” Zahra told a half-truth. She didn’t follow Yanna on IG, but she’d stalked her page religiously ever since that first day at WCMG.
“Oh, ight, but yea, she tends to tell people that… not wanting to put a label on it or whatever. She is mine, though, period.”
“She’s crazy. If you were my man, I’d be making sure everyone knew it.”
“Yea?” Kas questioned, wondering what that would be like. He’d never had a real relationship before Yanna. He was always trying so hard to attain it, he never really took a moment to think about what he was missing out on.
“Yea. You’re both talented and fine as hell. Sorry if that’s inappropriate.” Zahra knew exactly what she was doing. Swelling Kas’ head in hopes she’d appeal to a part of him that Yanna wasn’t fulfilling. A small smirk crept onto her face because from the still in Kas’ movements, she could tell it was working.
“Nah, you good. I appreciate you saying that.”
“Well, I meant it. Anyway, I put my number in your phone and called myself, so I’ll have yours. If you need me foranythingjust call me up. I’m only about 30 minutes away from the studio.”
“Bet,” Kas responded simply.
“Okay, so I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yup,” Kas replied, giving Zahra a lasting glance as she left the studio.
When she left the room, Onyx pulled a pre-rolled blunt from his pocket and lit it. Leaning back in his chair, he studied his brother for a beat before speaking.
“Kas.”
“Huh?”
“When I brought you on to be the label’s producer, I ran down the rules to you. What was rule number one?”
“I won’t listening when you was saying that shit.”
“Kas, don’t make me fuck you up. What was rule number one?”
“Fuck is you, Uncle Clifford? Nigga this ain’tThePank,” Kas joked, and Onyx tucked his blunt in his mouth, stood and approached him. “Ight, Nyx, chill out, damn. Rule number one was to not fuck the artists.”
“So why am I getting this feeling about you and my artist?”
“Technically, she’s not yo artist yet. And the rule ain’t say shit about yo feelings. I didn’t break yo lil’ rule because I ain’t fucking her, am I?”
“I ain’t never been stupid, boy, you ain’t fucking heryet.”
“You been stupid a lot, what you mean?”
“You want yo ass beat so bad, I swear.”
“For real, I ain’t even did shit. She cute as shit though, and you the one that sent her in the studio to record off my reference.”
