Page 104 of Just Like Summer

“Essentially, it goes like this. Nigga got a larger-than-life brother, hood legend. Overlooked, kinda trying to step into big shoes. Ended up getting a body. Now he’s sitting in prison too proud to reach out, too proud to tell his brother the real. So he writes these poems, I rap them. Just to give him a voice. I can rap but that nigga deserve a voice too.”

Cairo ingested that. “Aight, so if you were to get a deal off the weekend, how you handling him?”

“When El Jefe signs me, they can take that whole advance and bring him home. Feel me?” East stated.

An honorable man. Off that alone, East was going to the stars and he was going to take his friend with him. If it were Cairo, Nate was going everywhere he went. Yeah, the future was looking bright. The track was done, and East was walking out the tent with enough beats on stash to drop an EP.

“You here solo, right? No bullshit?” Cairo asked, roaming out the tent behind him.

“Yeah, I met up with some people I met on social media, but I’m cool without it. I’m starting to feel the pressure of what’s riding on this. If I fuck it up, I’ve fucked it up,” East shared.

“Tell you what,” Cairo said, digging in his pocket for his room key and a couple hundred dollars. “My room is 6008. It’ll be clear for you in about forty minutes. Get you some food and rest up for tomorrow. When this weekend is over, I’m setting you up in the city. I need you close until Jefe calls.”

“Nigga, you sure?”

“No one has ever extended you a leg up? Some kind gestures and shit?” Cairo asked with a frown.

“Nah. Moms put me out at fourteen. I’ve been in and out of juvie, jail, and prison. Just been getting by,” East shared.

Cairo patted his shoulder. “Your head is about to be in the clouds. Keep your feet on the ground, aight?”

“Thanks, OG,” East’s words were laced with gratitude. This moment was a stark reminder for Cairo. It played just how his encounters with KP played out, and he accepted it. AyeZee might’ve been laid to rest, but his spirit was still guiding him. If only he could show Cairo how to get back in his daughter’s good graces.

“Don’t mention it. Add this to the pressure you feel in your chest, nigga. Don’t let me down. You hear me?” Cairo asked.

“Heard. You watching the concert?” East asked, looking in the direction of the cabana where Kamilla was sitting down in a mini dress. “Your lady is over there.”

“I’m watching something, might not be the concert. Stay, kick it. Watch how these niggas move. RowdyRedd and Sincere might be CKs, but they’re good men. Don’t take your ass back to the pay by day. I know you got everything in your bag,” Cairo pointed out before he started walking in Kamilla’s direction.

CiCi was gone and so was her security. Her alone in this crowd didn’t sit well with him. Cairo entered her space, the layered scent of mango and exotic fruits over creamy coconut made him groan. He missed that scent. Flashes of memory reminded him how he curled up in his sheets inhaling it like a man lovesick after only a couple hours of her presence. A summer that rewired his brain chemistry. It gave him something to hold and to love, and it loved him back without regret.

“Yeah, I fucked that up,” he grumbled, before moving into the section. “Where your people at?”

Kamilla’s attention was in her phone, curls pulled into a large bun, a few loose coils framing her face, makeup vibrant and flawless. Breathtaking. She barely looked up at him before answering, “Handling some business. Are you going to sit here and demand shit all night?”

“Nah,” he offered, sitting down and inhaling her scent. “You smell too fucking good for me to be showing my ass. But I’ll let you know one thing; I’m fucking you out that dress tonight.”

“There’s several other women here you can fuck, Cairo,” she grumbled, locking her phone and standing. “Duty calls.”

Kamilla pulled her dress down and hurried off toward the stage. No security in sight meant that he was on duty, so he stayed a few steps behind her while she maneuvered backstage. Climbing, the steps behind her, he was stopped by a large guard.

She knew he was there. “Relax, he’s with me.”

Cairo knocked his hand off and continued behind her until she reached RowdyRedd’s green room.

“We talked about this,” she said, walking in to the torn up dressing room. “Look at me. We talked about this.”

Rowdy was in a state, like he was possessed. And Kamilla was the only one who could get through. She stepped out of her heels and moved over to him.

“Did you take your medicine today?” Kamilla questioned, rummaging through his bags. Viles of cocaine but not the bottle she was looking for. “Rodrick.”

“I don’t need that shit. Those muhfuckas trying to come in here and get me,” Rowdy spoke, looking past Cairo. He saw shit like this in prison. Inmates who would stop taking their meds or sell them to another inmate finally broke. It took them weeks to regulate.

“How much did you take?” Kamilla asked.

“J-just a few lines,” he admitted, even in his state he wouldn’t lie to her. “I wanted to feel like I wasn’t a washed up muhfucka, K. I’m not washed up.”

“You aren’t,” she sighed, abandoning the search. “You gotta get right, Rod. You promised me.”