Page 124 of Just Like Summer

The two exchanged words and a fist bump before joining the men at the table. Kairo hopped up in the chair next to his father and began to color. Evidence that Kamilla had done a great job of integrating their child into social settings. Also, his familiarity with the staff proved that while he was gone, Kamilla took Kairo everywhere he would’ve.

“Hey, what’s up, I’m East Way P. Easton Pitcher to my mother,” East introduced.

“Fahaad Simons. I hear great things about you,” Fahaad shared. “You get C4 to give you the nod of approval, you got something special.”

“I mean I’m aight,” East stated with a shrug, trying to mask his excitement.

“Let that shit out, nigga,” Cairo urged. “Deprogram yourself from masking that feeling.”

East let a smile freely form over his face. “Look, Fahaad. This has to work out for me. It’s all I got.”

Fahaad nodded his head. “You hungry?”

“I’ve been in that apartment doing nothing but writing. I need rap. Like I breathe. If I don’t have it, I’m going back to prison. I can’t do that shit again.”

“I hear you. So this is simple. You say yes, you sign the contract, you have creative control, one of the best producers I’ve ever encountered, and I’ll do everything in my power to get you to take off,” Fahaad stated.

“But for how much?” East asked. “I don’t want a 360 contract, and I need to able to say what I need without you controlling every step.”

“You’re a grown ass man, East. I’m a guide. But I won’t let you turn into a junkie or a puppet. No drugs, no bullshit. I’ve been there, done that. That leads you, me, and everyone rooting for you nowhere. You can’t quit; I won’t let you. Saying yes makes us family. On Azul, I don’t leave my family behind…” Fahaad’s words trailed off for a moment recalling Jesipi’s final moments and the weight he carried with him.

East spotted it the same way Cairo did all those years ago. “You know he has a son…whenever you ready to tap into that, you should. But as for me, I’m with it. I trust C4, so I’m inclined to trust you.”

Fahaad bobbed his head. “Aight then, today you eat something more than corn nuts or whatever you’ve been surviving off of. Tomorrow, we hit up the lawyer to review your contract in full.”

“Who’s paying for that? The lawyer?”

“Me. I’ll recoup out my fee. Right now, the focus is on this new chapter and never going back to the streets. Can you promise me that and not do what this guy did?” Fahaad half-joked.

Cairo dryly chuckled. “I didn’t like go out my way to fuck this shit up…I just did what needed to be done.”

“We not getting into none of that right now. Anyway, we good or you getting on a bus back to The Port?”

East slowly bobbed his head before his eyes bounced over to little man coloring. “Ay, little KP, what you think?”

Kairo-Palmer was focused on his drawing, barely looking up at East. “You can be a getting’ money blue, or you can be an ain’t got no money blue. It’s up to you, my boy.”

“Which one are you?” East asked, his brow raised in humor with how much he was a balance of his late grandfather and his dad.

“I’m forever a gettin’ money blue. Duh, use your big head, man,” Kairo-Palmer replied, making the table erupt in laughter.

East looked back at Fahaad and said, “I guess we got a deal.”

“Good, I need my cut,” Kairo-Palmer added.

The group of men broke bread and discussed the future for all of them. The sound for East’s album out of the gate and how he was going to present himself to Lucci and the rest of the team. Cairo was honored to just have a seat to watch this young man’s pivot as well as having his son watch his own.

After the business was handled and Cairo and Pepe got into a playful squabble over the tab, everyone headed their separate ways. Cairo arrived at Nate’s with the Black Panther-themed duffle bag in tow. Kairo-Palmer took off in front of him like he owned the place and shot through the house.

“Layna!” he shouted. “What you doin’!”

Nate laughed to himself, hearing the eruption of noise between children. “There goes the neighborhood. Baby C4 is about to tear up my house.”

“And for that, I apologize,” Cairo stated strolling in. “Thanks for keepin’ him.”

“You’re never going to thank me for lookin’ after my godson. I love that kid,” Nate stated. “Aight, now give me the word. I’m still filming bullshit or we up?”

Cairo gave him a half grin as the kids ran out the room laughing hysterically. The source of their chaos was the limbs of the dolls Nate bought.