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Authors: Janine A. Morris

BOOK: Drama 99 FM
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Chapter 33
C
orey had sent someone to retrieve the Range Rover and drop off Sereeta's car that same night, but since then there had been no communication. He had called several times and left messages and texts to call him, but Sereeta hadn't responded to anything. She hadn't decided what her next move would be; she had been too emotional to think straight.
Reyna had told her to press charges, and although she wanted to, she knew that because he'd used a condom and because he was a famous millionaire, she would likely lose and look like the slutty groupie. Four days had gone by since the France fiasco, and she had finally slept off all the guilt and shame—she was ready to make him pay. She didn't know what she could do, but she thought Debbie might have some words of wisdom. Sereeta sat on her couch and dialed Debbie's number.
“Hey, girl. Where you been?” Debbie said, sounding all energized when she answered the phone.
“I've been home,” Sereeta replied.
“Oh, I didn't see you at the Players' Appreciation Dinner last night, and most of their assistants were with them,” she said.
“Yeah, that's why I was calling you,” Sereeta said.
“What's up?”
“I was at Corey's house the other day, and some of the players were there, and they had company and had been drinking . . . Long story short, France forced himself on me,” she said.
“Oh, my God!” Debbie said. “Are you OK?”
“I am now. I just don't know what to do.”
“What did Corey say?”
“He was mad, but I left the house with his Range. He sent his driver to get it, and I haven't seen him since. He's left messages asking me to talk to him and not react in any way. He's just begging that I call him. I think he doesn't want to say too much over my answering machine, not sure if I'm pressing charges or not.”
“Well, are you?” she asked.
“I don't know. That's why I'm calling you. I am so confused.”
“Well, more power to you. There is a lot of money to be made if you go that route,” she said.
“It's bigger than that, Debbie. I just feel stupid.”
“Well, most people settle, so that's up to you.”
“ ‘Most people'? How many other people has this happened to?”
“This is a male-dominated field—there are sexual-harassment suits and rape charges of some sort on a regular basis. You aren't the first and won't be the last. These men are used to getting whatever they want, including pussy.”
Sereeta just dropped her head in her hands. “What's the point then? In the end they will win.”
“The point is to get some money at least and hit him where it hurts. I hate France anyway; he's always been an arrogant asshole.”
“Do you know of anyone else who's had a problem with him?” Sereeta asked.
“He's grabbed Tamara's ass before while they were at Nate's barbecue, and one time one of the other girls who helps Tyrone during the playoffs told me he was groping her one day in the locker room, but he stopped when someone walked in,” she said.
Sereeta began to get flashbacks of his heavy body pressed on top of hers and the smell of his sweat and Hennessy mixed together. She was trying to just block it all out. “Alright, thanks. I'll look into my options.”
“Alright, call me if you need me.”
The two of them hung up, and Sereeta sat there. She felt so alone. Mark wouldn't take her call the last time she called—turned out France was his brother. When he'd told her his brother played in the NBA, he never had said which player it was. It wasn't until Sereeta had called him crying about what had happened that he'd told her France was his brother and there was no way he would do such a thing. He coincidentally had had to get off the phone right after that, and she hadn't heard from him since.
She was tired of sitting at home crying, avoiding calls, running from what had happened, getting little advice or guidance. She saw Corey's name highlighted in her call log as a missed call, and she stared at it for a few moments before she hit the TALK button to call him back. As the phone rang, she could feel her heart begin to race.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Hi, Corey,” she said.
“Sereeta! Hey! Thanks for calling me back.”
“It's cool.”
“Listen, I know you're upset, and I'm
so
sorry about what happened. I feel at fault for having you in my house, but I had no idea he was that twisted, Sereeta. You know I have never tried to put you in harm's way.”
“I don't blame you, Corey,” she said.
“I know that nothing can really fix what happened, but I'm asking that you meet with France and me so we can try. I'm really hoping we can avoid a scandal.”
Sereeta remembered when he'd yelled at France for doing such a thing in his house—as if out of his house would be OK. “Is that all you care about?” she asked.
“Not at all, Sereeta. I care about you, too. You are a good person and didn't deserve that.”
“And I think he is a bad person and deserves to suffer,” she said.
“Yes, but something like this—not only he would suffer. I'll suffer for it, our team, the entire NBA . . . It's a bad look.”
“He should've thought about that,” she said.
“I agree, but he didn't. Where we are now, it's just best we handle it among us. Besides, he said he had on a condom, so it will be extremely hard to prove it even happened.”
“Is that what you think, Corey? Well, thanks for having my back,” Sereeta said.
He didn't get a chance to reply because she hung up. Her mind was racing, and so was her heart.
He's an asshole, too,
she thought to herself. She wanted everyone to suffer; she wanted not to be some silent victim so they could carry on with their lives and do this to whomever else.
She got up from the couch on which she had spent way too many hours the past two days and walked into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She moved a pile of papers so she could put her empty glass down, and a business card fell on the floor. She knelt down to pick it up and recognized the large DRAMA 99 FM logo. She continued to pour herself a glass of water and recalled meeting the program director at her favorite station over a week ago. She was a nice lady, and Sereeta only wished she could have that much power and not have to be a prisoner to someone. They said you shouldn't compare your life to someone else's because you never knew what problems they had, and this could be a prime example.
After Sereeta was through wishing she were in the powerful music executive's shoes, she put the water back in the refrigerator and walked out of the kitchen with her glass in her hand. She sat on the couch, and as she sat there in silence, she thought that maybe seeing that card at that moment had been a sign. She placed her glass down on the coffee table in front of her and headed back into the kitchen with her cell phone in hand. She picked up the business card, looked it over front and back, and analyzed its details.
Madison Cassell, Program Director. Drama 99 FM. Drama and Hits
. Drama and hits. The station played music and executed interesting interviews and dished the dirt and drama of the entertainment business. This might have been just the answer Sereeta was looking for.
She dialed the number on the card.
“Hello, Drama Ninety-Nine FM,” a young lady said.
“Yes, can I speak to Madison, please?” Sereeta asked.
“May I ask who's calling?”
“Can you tell her it's Sereeta, Corey Cox's assistant?”
“Hold on, please,” the girl said.
DJ Citrus's voice filled the phone, as the radio station was to keep Sereeta entertained while she was on hold. She sat there and began to wonder if she was losing her mind to even think about calling this strange woman, whom she hardly knew, and involve her in such a personal issue. A song came on—one of Sereeta's favorites by Keyshia Cole. She also began to wonder if Madison would be upset she had even told her this information. Would she refuse to get involved and curse her out? What was Sereeta thinking? Just as she was getting ready to hang up . . .
“Hello?” a voice said.
“Hello?” Sereeta replied.
“Sereeta?”
“Madison?”
“Yes, hi. How are you?”
“I'm OK. I hope I didn't interrupt your day,” she said.
“Not at all, you caught me at a good time.”
“Do you have a minute to speak to me in private?”
“You mean now, or do you want to meet?” Madison asked.
“Now is fine.”
“Yes, you have my undivided attention.”
Sereeta was surprised at how open and kind Madison was. She knew she should be honored just to get her on the phone. She didn't know if it was strictly because her boss was an NBA player or because Madison was a down-to-earth chick, but either way Sereeta was thankful to have her ear.
“Well, Madison, something happened to me that I'm ashamed to talk about. However, I feel if I keep it to myself, the person who did it will get away with murder—it's not murder, of course. But . . .”
Madison must have sensed the fear in her voice. “Calm down, hon, take it easy. You can relax and just talk to me,” she said.
Sereeta began to tear up. She felt like Madison was a therapist or something, allowing her to just let it all out. Reyna had listened, but Sereeta had felt like, in the back of Reyna's mind, she was judging her and thinking she should've complained about the nakedness in the locker rooms long ago or should've put her foot down. Sereeta felt enough at fault without having others ask her questions as if she were a fool. Hearing Madison just say “talk to me” were the most comforting words she could hear at that moment.
“One of Corey's teammates raped me and—” She heard Madison gasp, and she stopped midsentence.
“Oh, my goodness. Did you go to the police?”
“No, I was afraid to. He used a condom and I didn't think anyone would believe me and the case would be dismissed anyway.”
“I believe you, Sereeta. Don't worry about people not believing you.”
“I don't care what people think. I don't want to be his victim and just sit still and quiet and be controlled by money.”
Madison realized she, too, was a victim sitting still and quiet and being controlled by money.
“Go to the cops. Press charges and get an attorney,” Madison said.
“The press is going to run with it. Corey will be caught up in it. I just don't want to regret it,” she said.
“I'm curious—why did you call me?”
“I was hoping maybe I could just come tell my story. Tell what France did to me, tell my side of the story.”
Madison fell quiet. Madison could hear the pain in Sereeta's voice. She recognized it. Madison felt ashamed that she herself had chosen to keep secret what had been going on with her and Polytics, and yet this young woman had wanted to stand up for herself despite what others would think. “If that's what you would like to do, Sereeta, you are more than welcome. I am assuming an attorney may advise you otherwise, but you let me know what you decide.”
“Thanks, Madison. I will consult with an attorney today, but something in my gut is telling me this is what I want to do. A lawyer is going to try to get money for me, but they may settle, and his name may never even be tarnished.”
“I understand,” Madison said.
Little did Sereeta know that Madison really did understand. She understood enough to realize that she had only a short window of time left herself before she was going to have to face her own demon. Living enslaved to a secret wasn't fun or easy. Sometimes, just by telling your story, the truth would set you free.
Sereeta and Madison hung up the phone, and Madison couldn't help but think what Sereeta was thinking and how she must feel. Madison took no more than sixty seconds before she picked up the phone, filled with motivation, and called the host of her Wednesday night news-formatted show and told her of her show assignment: “Women Prisoners in the Entertainment Business.”
Chapter 34
E
veryone left in the office at Drama 99 FM had their ears glued to the radio. It was Wednesday night, prime time, and Laura Lissette was hosting her show,
Source Stories
. She had been promoting all week that she would be doing a show on “Women Prisoners in the Entertainment Business,” featuring some of the music business's most well-kept secrets. The phones had been ringing all week with audio-bite requests, industry executives wanting to contribute stories anonymously, and of course labels asking for Madison's mercy with what was allowed to be aired. No one knew who the guest panelists were, but the promo that was running made everyone curious.
Laura spoke into the mic; four women were in the room, aside from herself and her board operator.
“Drama Ninety-Nine FM—you are listening to
Source Stories,
and today our show topic is ‘Women Prisoners in the Entertainment Business,' ” Lisa began.
The audio clip of applause began and slowly quieted down.
“Today we have with us Sereeta McFarlane, assistant to NBA player Corey Cox; Kayla Frater, stylist to King Mercy; Naomi Mitchell, executive assistant to the VP of promotions at Intheloop Records; and last, but certainly not least, our very own program director here at Drama Ninety-Nine FM, Madison Cassell.” The audio clip of applause began to fill the room again.
All the ladies were nervous; they looked around the room at each other, and from within each other's eyes, they found the strength to continue. They all knew that there might be consequences to pay, and they all knew the price for coming forward on the air might be higher than anyone was willing to pay. However, all of them thought about what they had to gain, for themselves and for several other women in the business, and they sat there with their heads held high.
Naomi had still been home “sick” when she'd heard the promo for the show. She knew the topic was much bigger than her, but she felt she had a story to tell, too. She'd already spoken to her father and been planning to move back home. After school, she had had a job offer on the table from a colleague of his to work the news desk at the local news station, but at the time she had thought New York had had so much more to offer. The job was still available, and it wasn't music, but it was communications, and she preferred to start all over than to try to continue down the path she had started. She was just happy that with Madison's help she was going to be able to go out with a bang.
Naomi had called the station and asked to speak with Madison. She reminded Madison that they had met at Cîroc, and then Naomi had told her story. After Naomi had also told Madison she was resigning and going back home, Madison had decided she didn't want to deny her an opportunity to share her story before she left. Naomi knew she had been no angel in the situation, but she wanted other women in the industry to learn not to be mesmerized by all the wrong things and to stay true to themselves. She only hoped that hearing about her embarrassment and ridicule would deter anyone from wanting to compromise who they were in order to fit in. It was a hard lesson, but she had learned firsthand that record-company people were shady.
As soon as the introductions were done and Laura was going through her summary of today's issues, Madison received a message on her BlackBerry. She looked down, and not really to her surprise, it was Polytics. Yo, what are you doing on the air right now? he wrote. She looked at it, and it made her even happier that she had made this decision because it was just a reminder that until her secret was out, he would forever think he could control her. I am giving the answer you wanted from me, she wrote back. Her face lit up; she loved it. She loved reclaiming herself and fixing what she had done. Yeah, she might get fired, and, yeah, Jamahl might leave her, but she would have her pride back, and she wouldn't have to be Polytics's victim. Even better, women around the world would learn from her mistake, and people would know what Polytics was really all about.
Naomi was well into her story by the time Madison had refocused on the room. Though she'd heard it before, it was no less captivating the second time. She heard Naomi telling how she'd liked this guy at her job, and he didn't pay her any attention for the longest time. She spoke of her haircut and stylish change of clothes and how instantly he was her new best friend. She admitted she was naive and flattered and fell for his game kind of easily. She said how she'd gone with him to his hotel room after a party, and less than a week later everyone at the company knew all about it, and she was being treated like a piece of meat. She made it very clear that she had regrets, but she wanted it to be known it all wasn't worth it.
And Madison burst out laughing when the thin, shy-looking Texas girl said, “It really wasn't worth it—I barely felt anything, and it lasted for less than two minutes.” Although everyone else started laughing, Naomi hadn't been looking for a reaction—she was dead serious. She was being very clear that it hadn't been worth it. She ended her story with, “They spread all these rumors when there was nothing to tell. No one thought about how it would affect me. Out of the entire company, only one person cared enough about me as a person to keep it real with me, but to everyone else, it was funny.”
Once Laura noticed the tears welling up in Naomi's eyes, she interjected. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are talking today about women in the entertainment business and the issues they face, the double standards they deal with, and the secrets they live with.”
Laura looked at Sereeta and nodded for her to begin. Sereeta swallowed real hard before she began to speak. It was obvious that she was fighting back tears, but on the microphone she sounded strong. She told the listeners about how she'd had to deal with sexual harassment for months, and there was nobody to go to about it. It was just the way things were in the day-to-day environment of a sports assistant. Thoughts of Mark and him hating her went through her mind as she began to tell what had happened with France. They were quickly erased when she remembered that Mark hadn't even given her the benefit of the doubt to believe her when she'd confided in him. She knew that no matter what had happened after she “snitched,” she would feel better that her silence for the protection of France's reputation hadn't been bought. She made a point to say that her boss, Corey, was a gentleman and had had nothing to do with what happened to her. She went into the details of the day that France had raped her, and everyone in the room seemed to be deep in thought.
The young lady Kayla had to wipe her tears away. No one in the room knew her secret just yet, but it was clear that she could relate somehow. Sereeta wiped away a tear or two herself as she finished sharing what had happened to her—how no one had seemed to care how she felt. It hit Madison right in her heart when she heard Sereeta say, “France wanted this to be kept a secret, but I didn't want to share a secret with a man I had no respect for. He abused me and then played a basketball game the very next night. So I am here today to let him see that his money couldn't buy him a secret.” The applaud audio began to ring out, and Madison, Kayla, and Naomi clapped right along with it.
Laura chimed in once again. “Folks, as you hear this show about airing these dirty dudes' dirty laundry, some arrest warrants will be given, some careers will be shattered, but these women are empowered by refusing to be afraid. For those of you who don't know, entertainment is a male-dominated business and a business where money has all the power. All the dirt gets brushed under the carpet with a checkbook around here, and I am proud to have these ladies on my show who are willing to let it be known their dignity doesn't have a price tag. We will be right back on Drama Ninety-Nine FM.”
A commercial break began, and Madison looked back at her BlackBerry. Polytics had written back, What the hell are you talking about? Madison typed back: Just stay tuned to Drama 99 FM.

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