Page 43 of Just Like Summer

“Thanks,” Kamilla responded.

“Aight, let’s talk money. C4 ain’t letting me out here without paying you what you worth. Not to mention the traffic in and out this place, I’ll be needing you like twice a week,” Fredo said.

She slightly looked over her shoulder to make sure Cairo wasn’t in a corner with that scowl before she looked up at him. “How about you pay me like two-fifty every clean and apply the rest to his sessions?”

“Oh, y’all like that?” Fredo questioned with a laugh. “Shit is like déjà vu.”

Kamilla’s brows creased. “What do you mean?”

“Calm down. He’s never brought a girl in here. That’s not his style. You’re too young to know who AyeZee was, but when we had that studio over on 40th and Jefferson, he bargained with me too. Had his girl and her fast ass sister clean the spot during the day, he’d come record at night. You know, you kinda look like him,” Fredo spoke, leaning in.

“Aye, nigga,” Cairo’s voice sounded off. “Back yo’ ass up.”

When he came into view, he had the bags of trash in his hand so Kamilla wouldn’t have to walk outside in the dark.

Fredo stepped back and nodded. “Yeah, y’all like that. I didn’t mean no harm.”

Cairo looked at Kamilla.

“I’m good,” she assured.

“Aight,” Cairo grumbled. “I’ll be down the hall when you done. Don’t want you out here waiting on me. Too many niggas in and out.”

Kamilla bobbed her head, almost melting in the protectiveness he had for her. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“Any of these niggas say some slick shit, let me know,” Cairo added, before walking backwards out the door still scowling at Fredo.

Fredo chuckled and looked down at Kamilla. “You know that muhfucka is out his mind. A genius with the music shit, but fuckin’ nutty.”

Kamilla schooled the smile that threatened to grow over her face. “So, do we have a deal or…”

“I got one better for you ‘cause it’s clear your green ass likes that nutty shit and he will literally blow this bitch to the ground behind you. So make that two fifty, five hundred and I’ll handle part of your boyfriend’s fee.”

“Thanks,” Kamilla said before walking off.

“Ay,” Fredo called behind her, prompting her to stop. “One more thing.”

Kamilla turned around just in earshot of Fredo’s lowered tone. “Yeah?”

“That nigga needs love. Like some real shit. Some shit that’ll undo the shit he’s seen. But in loving him…don’t forget to love yourself. Aight?”

She looked into Fredo’s aged face. There were years of stories there. Her lip twitched with the need to ask but she didn’t.

“You know, AyeZee should have a daughter about your age. Heard she’s up in Greenwood with her momma,” Fredo added. “Prime example of loving us Azuls more than herself. Mm, she would’ve beat a bitch behind her nigga. Until she got pregnant. Everything changed then. His ass got serious then.”

Kamilla tucked her quivering lip that threatened to tell on her. Fredo caught it, finding the truth she held close and the reality she was swimming through. He also knew the bloody details of the night that snatched her father from her.

“I’ll see you in a few days. Don’t ghost me,” Fredo finalized. This time, he was the one who walked away.

Once his back turned, she swiped the tear from her cheek that fell. A quick shake of the shoulders, she roamed into the studio and found a corner that Cairo could see from the corner of his eye. Within his view and out the way, she watched some local rapper she wouldn’t commit the name of in the booth.

The beat she’d forced to him to tweak blasted loudly through the small room. Every kick of the drum, every key, every horn – Cairo perfected it and it made her core tighten. Every vibration she felt through her being. But it was the light she saw come alive in Cairo. How he locked in, fingers dancing over the knobs, the coaching of lyrics – this was what he was made to do. This was what the darkness was trying to rip from him – the joy of creating. Outside of the one time she got to see her father on stage, this was the most beautiful thing she’d ever got to witness.

The session went on for another couple of hours. Once the studio started to feel more like a hang out than a session, Cairo wrapped up his portion, got his payment, gave Fredo his cut and got Kamilla out of there.

“How does that feel?” Kamilla asked, once they were out the thick of the crowd.

“What? Making beats?”