And I you, baby. Real bad.
He was a walking, talking, red flag, and Charlie had run to this man like he was an amusement park ride. She couldn’t stop chasing the thrill if she tried. Even now, at the bottom of the hill, she wanted to beg him to take her back to the top. Charlie chose her next words carefully. Typing, then erasing. Then typing, only to erase again, because she needed him but couldn’t demand his presence—not right now, not after this.
Charlie
When can I wrap my arms around you, Demi?
Demi
Soon, I hope. You don’t even know what I’m facing, Bird. I’m losing it.
Charlie
When you lose it, come find me.
Demi
I’m not worthy, Bird. On God, I’m not.
“How fucking dare you?!”
Day looked up from his desk as Kiara Da’vi stormed into his office.
He stood and rounded his desk, bypassing her to close the door before he turned and put a firm grip around her neck.
“Bring your volume down,” he warned.
She pushed him off, and her eyes watered as she hissed. “You bring some bitch into my show acting like she’s running shit! Are you fucking her?”
“I have,” Day said honestly. Why lie? Niggas lied when they weren’t the boss. He was, so it was his rules. Kiara Da’vi was a participant in his life in the capacity he allowed.
“When my brother helped you and Demi start this label, you promised him you would take care of me!” Kiara shouted. “I know how this fucking company started. I know the 50 bricks that built this bitch. It’s the same dope that sent him to jail. He died in there for you and Demi! Don’t try to have me playing second fiddle to no bitch. Not Demi’s nappy-headed mistress turned wifey, and for damn sure not no uppity-ass bitch like the one you let play in my face at the showcase!”
Day regretted the day he had crossed the line with this one. Their old partner and friend, Duke, had been a part of the initial investment of the record company. It was a three-way split, but when Day and Demi went legit, Duke refused to pull out of the streets. Day and Demi dabbled here and there to make sure their soldiers stayed strong, but they stopped throwing rocks at the penitentiary and focused on building reputable wealth. Duke didn’t follow suit, and he got caught up. Day and Demi had promised to look out for his little sister, Kiara, and they had over the years. Day had even put the girl on his arm, blowing her up overnight and setting her up for a hell of a career. Every single she had dropped had taken the culture by storm, and every time they were linked together, her streams soared. The popularitymade her ego soar, too, however. She was becoming a diva, and she was becoming possessive. Anytime she saw him out with someone other than her, she felt like her opportunity to shine was being taken away.
“We aren’t in a relationship, Da’vi, remember who you talking to,” Day reminded.
“The dick, the trips, and the cash say differently, but whatever you say, Day. Just check your hoes when it comes to me. My brother helped start this label. I deserve to be Queen B around here. When you know how it’s built, you know how to burn it to the ground, too,” she threatened.
“Need I remind you who you’re talking to?” Day asked. The calm before the storm. He was known for it. He had taught plenty of lessons over the years when niggas had mistaken his calm demeanor for weakness.
She piped down, huffing and puffing, but she knew she had no wins in a fight with a man that wasn’t hers to claim. She rolled her eyes. “Who is she anyway?”
“Nobody that concerns you,” Day answered. “You’re focused on the wrong things. I need you in the studio more, making music; leave these clubs alone, hop less flights, and let’s get focused. You do more shaking ass on IG with the baby mama gang than you do anything else.” He was referring to her frequent trips to Miami to hang out with the rappers’ baby mamas. “We got a lot of paper invested in your project, and that shit moving at a snail’s pace.”
“I got you, Day,” Kiara said, toning down the attitude.
“Then have me then,” he shot back. “It’s a hard time around here for everybody. Shit is about to get dark. Don’t need no extra static.”
“I heard about Demi’s son. I’m really sorry to hear about that,” Kiara stated sincerely. “He was a cute kid.”
Day went back to his seat and rifled through the papers on his desk.
“Yeah, it’sunfortunate,” he said casually without looking up at her. She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t, she scoffed.
“You know the cameras will be out for the funeral…”
Day lifted his head and deadpanned on her. His stare was so cold that she stopped speaking mid-sentence. He knew where this was going. Kiara Da’vi lived for the cameras. Professional, cell phone, and otherwise, it didn’t matter. She documented every aspect of her life for the social media stage.
