"Mannnn…" Dom felt defeated but wasn't surprised, which caused a smirk to appear on Asao's face.
"This week. I promise I got you. Right now I need to get this out of my head or I won't be able to focus on anything."
"I told you not to send those tracks until next week. You know him better than I do." Niles lifted one shoulder, offering a half shrug before his eyes dropped to the phone in his hand. He hit ignore on an incoming call then focused on Asao.
"The money hit the account. Everybody got their cut. I'm about to go spend some of mine with this anxious muthafucker. You need anything before we split?"
Niles was his business manager. Had been since the day Asao dropped his first real track that brought in any type of money. He and Asao hustled side by side in the streets for years prior to this music thing. Niles counted up and flipped product for profit along with him and Dom which taught them how to make shit move and prosper.
Their history was sketchy but Niles was good with money. Asao trusted not only his bank accounts with him but his life as well. That was rare considering where they came from. Loyalty was like a fucking unicorn in their world, but Niles, that was his boy. Asao rocked with him heavy and would never question him. His word was bond.
"Nah, I'm gonna grab food and head home. I need to get this shit out of my head."
"Aight, we'll talk tomorrow. I have to go over a few things with you."
"Things?" They all were on their feet heading toward the door, stopping to keep their conversation confidential.
"A few moves I think will be a good look for you." Niles’s explanation was good enough since Asao knew how he worked. Without a major label backing his career, if they didn't hustle, they didn't eat. That was Niles’s department. The same way Asao was eager to get some new music in motion, Niles was eager to find ways to profit from it. If Asao’s pockets grew, Dom and Niles’s pockets were laced equally. That was how they worked.
"It will be a late night," were his final words.
With a nod of confirmation, Asao made a mental note to reach out to Niles once he was moving. He had hours ahead of him which meant he would sleep in as late as early afternoon, so they left it at that and went their separate ways.
The hour was latewhen Asao walked into one of his favorite spots. There wasn't anything fancy or appealing associated with Carver’s but he frequented here a lot. Mostly because it was ablock from his building. The food was good and no one seemed to care that he had a little status behind him.
The owners, Charlie and May, had become a comfortable part of his life, which meant he’d sat at their dinner table a few times. On the days either of them worked, no matter how much he attempted to cover his bill, his food was always on the house. He returned the favor with free promotion whenever he could and a few private performances from time to time that had the tiny space busting at the seams.
The restaurant was small and narrow with a bar and tables on one side and booths on the other. In the front corner was a tiny stage where poetry readings, weekly karaoke, and local artists performed. Asao had long since outgrown that part of his come up, but for Charlie and May, he hit the stage from time to time. Because of what little notoriety he had in the city, Carver's maintained a steady flow of traffic with hopefuls and those who were loyal to his journey, which kept their business open long past its expiration date.
Stepping inside, a few heads turned from the chime of the door but none moved an inch. Considering the late hour, there were only a few people in the place and their agendas were more important than latching onto his. His original goal had been to place an order to-go, but since it was quiet and there was only a little over an hour to closing, he found a table in the corner instead, making sure the spot allowed a visual of the entire building.
Asao would eat while he cleaned up a few of the lyrics he’d typed into his phone then lay rough versions once he made it back to his apartment. His spare room was a makeshift studio where he spent countless hours crafting music the world would never hear.
"Welcome to Carver's, I'll take your drink order if you're ready." The soft voice was new. He was well-versed in everyemployee who worked here because of his familiarity with the place and this voice didn't belong to any of them.
When he lifted his eyes to the face that spoke to him, he couldn't see much. She wore a baseball cap pulled down so low on her head that all he could see was a chin and a pair of plump lips. The bushy auburn ringlets that pushed out the back of her hat and swept her shoulders created even more of a shadow around her face.
"Bottled water and I'm ready to order."
She waited but didn't speak so he rattled off what he wanted.
The usual.
"Turkey sub, lettuce, no tomato, mustard, no mayo, extra fries." With a quick nod she walked away and he went back to his phone. By the time his food arrived, he had one wireless earbud in, running through the beats Dom had sent him, crafting lyrics.
Prospectively the third set of lyrics since he’d received the beats from Dom. That was one of Asao’s flaws. Each time he heard a beat, he imagined different words flowing. He would do this for hours, sometimes days, until the right combination hit. It had to feel right. His skill set was unheard of. Often he was referred to as an anomaly, which meant he could flow over anything and make it great, but for him it transcended far deeper than just making something great. He had to personally be connected to it. The combination of the beat and the lyrics had to be felt as an extension of him.
Tucking his lip between his teeth while his head motioned slightly to the rhythm sounding in his ear, Asao knew he was there. It was time to record. Shortly after, he was on his feet, back stiff from having spent the last hour in a poorly built wooden chair. The cash he removed from his pocket landed on the table before he was on his way out of the door while a small body was on its way through.
She collided with him in a way that was chaos and sanity at the same time. It was unexplained but caused him to look down into her face. She had to be at least a foot shorter than his six foot height, which placed her just under average height for a woman.
"Sorry," rumbled from her pouty lips before her eyes left Asao’s and darted past him. They were both stalled in the doorway from their collision, and from what he could tell, she wanted him to move so she could enter.
"You're good, pretty."Pretty?He called women that all the time and it generally had not a damn thing to do with their looks. Just habit on his part because ma, shorty ,or any other moniker used to reference the opposite sex didn't play well on his tongue. But saying it in that moment felt different. It applied.
She's so fucking pretty.
Her face didn't change, no flash of a smile in her eyes, no signs of warming in her cheeks, not even admiration for a man acknowledging her. Asao chuckled and stepped out of the way while she maneuvered around him, pushing the door wider to fit her slim body through.
