Charlie nodded, keeping her eyes closed to stay in her zone as he looped the track. She was participating in a Teyana Taylor tribute show, and there was no way she could cover such an iconic artist and not lay down her best vocals. Every producer on her upcoming album knew there were no one-take sessions with Charlie. She looped her tracks back dozens of times, adding vocals, ad-libs, and sometimes just one single hum until every note had been purged from her soul. It didn’t matter that this song wasn’t her song. If her voice were singing the lyrics, it would be right.
Gaslightin’ my emotions, somehow you got the notion, a woman’s better brokennnnn, but nigga don’t provoke meeeee…
She opened her eyes as her lip trembled on the run, and the first person she saw was Demi. His arrival into the studio made her heart leap, and her stomach tighten because she felt these lyrics.
His head fell into a nod instantly as he stared at her through the window to the booth. She hypnotized him with her voice. Every time. It never failed.
We can’t kiss it away, can’t wish awayyyyyy…
Demi shook his head, and suddenly, the music stopped. He leaned in and pressed a button so that she could hear him.
“Run it back, Bird,” he instructed.
“Yo, Big Dog, that was a perfect track,” the engineer protested.
“You can keep the track; he just wants to hear me sing,” Charlie said, blushing.
“Voices like this are one in a million. A nigga just trying to bear witness,” Demi said, voice full of wonder, his eyes never leaving Charlie’s.
My body’s your addiction; your touch is my affliction, I speak you never listen, somewhere we’ll stay consistent…
“Shit’s art,” Demi said, scoffing in disbelief as he fell into his trance. He wasn’t even speaking to the producer. He barely heard the “no doubt,” the man offered.
That’s just like talking to…
CONCRETE
CONCRETE
CONCRETE
Charlie took off over the smooth beat, mixing bravado with a falsetto that gave Demi chills.
“Call her One Take Jake; that’s a wrap,” the man said. “This girl is a fucking star. Why we keep delaying her album by adding new songs? She’s no cover artist. The song we did leak was all over the charts. The hype is there. We need to captilize from it.”
“I ain’t ready to share her yet,” Demi said more to himself than to the room.
He pressed the button and spoke into Charlie’s ears. “Come out, baby.”
She exited the booth and Demi put his hands together in a slow clap.
“You’re the one. You know that, right?” He asked, baiting her as he pulled her into his body. Charlie melted there, her heart on a stimulant called Demi. Narcotic love. The shit that made your neurons send dopamine to your brain. God, this man was a high.
“Stop making a big deal, Demi,” she whispered shyly, smiling into his shoulder as he doted over her. She loved this nigga. Demi was a gangster and as abrasive as they came, but he was malleable in her hands. Fucking putty. He was a nigga in love, and he was locked in on this songstress as if their time together was fleeting. They hadn’t come up for air since they’d met, and Charlie was struggling to find pockets of air in their runaway affair. It was like a freight train; once it picked up speed, there was no stopping it.
“I got DJ,” he said.
“Oh,” Charlie said, thrown off slightly. “Where is he?” She asked.
“In the lobby. I ain’t want him interrupting the session,” Demi stated. “He’s staying the night. I know it’s last minute but…”
“He’s always welcome, Demi. It’s been so awkward and hard with Lauren. I’m just surprised she let him come. I’m glad things are getting better,” Charlie said.
Charlie knew it would be a challenge to get through the next few days. DJ hadn’t taken to her at all, and Charlie always felt like she was in the way whenever she spent time with him, like Lauren was supposed to be in her place. Nothing made Charlie feel like a mistress more than DJ’s rejection. It was like his presence alone devalued the flawless rock on her left finger. Love meant nothing where fatherhood was concerned. DJ was a child who didn’t understand why his family, as he had known it, had been torn apart. Charlie was the one with the scissors who had come through and cut it to pieces. Shewas the villain in his story, and it was hard to get him to see her in any other light.
“I can go spend time with Stass this weekend if you want a little one-on-one time with him,” she said. She almost wanted him to agree because the pressure of stepmotherhood was pressing. She didn’t know how to mother because she wasn’t one yet. She didn’t even know if she had the motherhood gene. DJ just intimidated her in ways she didn’t understand.
“I want you home. I want him to feel like my home is his home, and you’re a part of my home, Bird. You’re not an optional part of my life. He isn’t an optional part of my life. I need my two favorite people to know each other. I need him to love you like I do,” Demi said. She nodded, the discomfort mounting as he grabbed both her hands and brought them to his lips. “Everything gon’ be okay. Put your trust in your man, Bird. I promise the li’l nigga bad but he don’t bite.”
