She watched chocolate fingers pull out and split the bag as he lifted it to his nose. Wrinkles filled his forehead as he lifted a curious brow in challenge.
Stassi sighed. She never let her hair down. She was always in pursuit of something. Hustling. Working. Building. Chasing.Today, everything she had worked for had been lost in the blink of an eye. Every responsible decision she’d made had gone down the drain. “Lead the way.” Fuck it. Might as well cure a fucked-up day with a little medicinal therapy.
Day walked Stassi toward the back of the house.
“Where are we going?” She asked as she placed careful steps on the salt-covered ground while hesitantly glancing over her shoulder back toward the house.
“You ask a lot of questions; you don’t trust me?” He asked.
“Should I trust you?”
“Probably not.” He found joy in that statement; white teeth shined in the shadows of the tall house. He held out his arm so she could use him for balance. “Nice shoes.”
“Thank you. Next time you might see me in Keds since a bitch lost her job today,” she said, making light of the heaviness that filled her heart.
“That ass gon’ do the same thing in Keds or red bottoms,” he said as he allowed her to walk ahead of him slightly while holding onto her fingertips so he could get a better view.
“You are bold!” Stassi laughed. Her first laugh all day.
“Little bit,” he admitted.
“A lotta bit, boy,” Stassi shot back.
“My fault. No disrespect,” Day said. “A nigga just notice what he notice. That mu’fucka moving.”
“So mannish,” she said, shaking her head, but smiling because baby one thing Stassi did was squat her life away to maintain that ass.
He opened the door to what appeared to be a garage, and when they stepped inside, it illuminated, revealing five luxury cars and a staircase that led to a second level. The way Demi had bossed Charlie up was impressive. He spared no expense in providing for her. She wondered if it were guilt or true love. It didn’t really matter; as long as he was consistent with her sister, Stassiwould keep her mouth closed about her reservations about his character.
She followed Day up the stairs and through a door to discover a recording studio.
“What doesn’t this house have?” She said, astonished as he pulled out a rolling chair for her.
“You’ve never been up here? This is where Charlie recorded half her album,” Day said.
“I haven’t even heard it. She’s super secretive about it,” Stassi replied.
“She’s nervous. It’s normal for new artists, but it’s fire. Your sister’s gonna be a star,” Day replied.
“Well, according to her following on IG, she’s already a star,” Stassi said.
“Nah, she’s popular. She’s covering other people’s songs. That’s just marketing. It builds anticipation. This album we worked on, though.” He shook his head. “She’s going to be outta here.”
“You produced the entire thing?” Stassi asked.
“Most of it, but we brought in some other talented producers too. Some new songwriters. It’s dope, though.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.”
Day sat in the chair across from her and turned her seat his way. He rolled the blunt in silence as she took in his cool demeanor. The quiet between them gave her anxiety, but he seemed comfortable in it. He didn’t even look up. He just swiveled his chair slightly as he leaned over onto his knees, twisting the rillo between expert fingers until it was perfect. His eyelashes lifted when he finally lent her his attention. They were long and defined, shielding mystery in a stare that went from cold to curious instantly.
Pinched fingers lifted good weed to folded lips as he lit the blunt.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
The smoke hugged them, rising in the air around them. He took another hit, longer this time, then held it out for her.
One puff and everything that felt like a mountain before was reduced to molehills.
