Page 50 of Just Like Summer

Fahaad kissed his teeth. “Hell nah, ‘cause when that shit is over, I’m moving on to the next thing. You a producer, you got to grow roots in the shit and have real artists trust you. So what’s your why? Dope game getting tricky?”

“Dope game is the dope game. It’s always tricky.” Cairo swiveled his chair around, facing the empty hallway, his eyes closed. The flashes of events he couldn’t get out of his head mixed with the softness that now filled up the space he didn’t deem worthy to have made him shake his head. “I’m not trying to die before I start living.”

Fahaad grunted. “Hm. I hear you. What you doing tonight?”

“Shit, kicking it.”

“Nah, you’re working. I got this new artist I found out of Port East. He’s an R&B nigga but Azul. He needs a hit. Where is this studio?”

A smile crept over Cairo’s face, as he shared the location with Fahaad, agreed on a time and hung up. His next move was to text Fredo.

C4: Studio clear?

Fredo: get your girl to clean it, it’s yours

C4: bet

Cairo stood and roamed into the small living room where Kamilla sat on the couch watching whatever was showing on basic tv. He laid his head in her lap and kissed the exposed skin.

“Good call?” she posed, her hands finding his mess of hair.

“Yeah…you down to watch me clean the studio for a session?” Cairo asked.

“Isn’t that my job?” she questioned.

“You don’t work for free,” Cairo stated. “Not even going to let you get comfortable doing it. I know how to clean up, just need your nod of approval.”

“What’s happening at the studio?”

“You know Fahaad Simmons?” he queried.

“Wasn’t he Jesipi the Don’s manager? The one they said set him up?” Kamilla asked.

“Yeah, he didn’t do that shit,” Cairo replied.

“I know. My dad told me the story. Gang shit is always gang shit, huh?”

“Yeah, always. Fahaad was the face of the management team, but it was those other niggas who never liked being overlooked. The ones who always want more. Those the ones you got to watch,” Cairo muttered, as his mind flashed on to Tiny. “Always the niggas who want more.”

“You don’t want more?” Kamilla asked.

“Not like that. Not in a way where it’ll fuck up everything I got going on and everyone around me. I want shit like more life, more peace… more of this.”

“This?”

“Yeah, everything you got to offer a nigga like me. On Azul.”

“Oh, on Azul. It’s serious,” Kamilla cooed.

“Been that way, it’ll stay that way.” He looked up at her, catching that softness on her face. “So you coming, I need your direction and your ear.”

Kamilla’s pointer finger slowly ran down the center of his face. “I don’t know, it sounds like work and my boyfriend said I couldn’t work for free.”

Cairo chuckled. “I’ll talk to that nigga about compensation.”

“Yeah do that. I heard he got a thing about wires and fire. I don’t want any issues for you, on Azul.”

He laughed, picking up her hand to kiss her palm. “Watch out, I might think you fuckin’ with a nigga for real.”