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Authors: Nikki Turner

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BOOK: GHETTO SUPERSTAR
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Fabiola looked down in disgust. She was completely taken off guard by Johnny's boldness. She had heard of studio rats having to fuck their way into a recording contract, but she never imagined that one day she'd find herself in the very same predicament.

“Sir, the talent is in my voice.”

“Yes, and a lot of girls have the talent and unfortunately talent doesn't always get you through the door. Hell, sometimes it doesn't even get you through the door.” Him repeating himself let her know that he was a bit tipsy.

She didn't know what to do. All sorts of crazy thoughts raced through her mind. Should she get up and leave now? And then lose everything? Maybe she should call her mother, but then her mother would know that she really didn't have it under control like she said she did. She wanted to cry because it wasn't suppose to turn out like this, but she managed to keep her composure as Johnny continued.

“It's about sacrifice. You are twenty-one years old, old enough to make your own decisions. Take your destiny in your hand.” He nodded toward his manhood.

Fabiola was dumbfounded. The chance of a lifetime was right in front of her. What she had been practically living every day of her life for, what her mother and sister had been sacrificing so much for so long in the hopes that this day would certainly come, was right there, and she didn't want to fuck it all up by making the wrong move in this delicate situation.

Johnny could tell she was fighting with conflicting feelings. “Touch it,” he tried to urge her.

“Johnny, I don't want us to get into this … not now,” she said in a soft but firm tone, not wanting to piss him off.

“Baby, you have to make up your mind. I'm very interested in you—all of you—but how interested are you in me?” He grabbed her hand and put it in his lap. He wanted her to stroke him but she didn't. “That's it,” he moaned. Fabiola quickly removed her hand.

“Johnny, please don't let this get in between us,” she begged.

“You got my time and my attention.” He looked her in the eyes. “Now don't blow it,” he said. “You are almost at the pinnacle of your dream, and you only have a few steps to take, but it's a long ways back down. You have to decide if you want it or not.”

She looked at his average-sized freckled dick and knew that if she put it on him that he would want more, but that didn't necessarily mean that he would keep his word and sign her. Should she become a whore to the business? This was the day she had been waiting for all of her life, but she had no idea that it would come with this kind of price.

“Baby, it can be so, so e-zee for you. It's up to you.” He was still stroking himself, licking his lips. “But you are running out of time.” The pace of his stroke intensified. “It's either the bed or you can leave.”

Fabiola knew that her entire life was at stake.
No one will know what I did but him and me
. She tried to assure herself as she kicked off her stilettos. Clips of her mother's overjoyed smile and her sister giving her a high five when she returned home with the deal flashed through her mind.

“That's right,” he coached when her shoes came off and she began to undo one of the buttons on her blouse. “I know that pussy is so tight and wet for me.” His tongue darted out of his
mouth like it had a mind of its own. “Oh, Daddy-O is horny for your pussy” He licked his lips when she undid another button. He could now see the black lace bra she was wearing. “Oooh, I just can't wait for you to turn me out Virginia style. Show me that Virginia really is for lovers.”

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes as she watched him continue to stroke himself faster, talking to her like she was a whore. “You're making the right decision. You are going to be a huge star. America's sweetheart! I can see your name in lights.”

Fabiola saw that Johnny was in ecstasy and knew that once again he'd get what he wanted, but just as quickly as the thought crossed her mind she snapped out of that thinking. “Johnny, I don't want to do this.” Those words made him lose his erection.

“It's your choice. No one is forcing you to do anything. Either you do or you don't. If you don't—no deal; if you do—deal. Make your decision now.”

Fabiola slipped her shoes back on and fastened up her blouse.

“The bed or bounce?” Johnny Wiz laughed.

“You're going to have to enjoy your bed alone, Johnny. I'm sorry that you feel as you do.” Tears were in her eyes.

“I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that you are such a selfish little bitch. Now get the fuck out.”

“I'll make it to the top without you, Johnny.”

“Over my dead body, bitch.” Johnny lost his cool sitting on the sofa. “And I mean that. Get the fuck out. Do your talking while you're walking and don't let the door hit you.”

“I would have liked for it to be with you, but …” She was trying to appeal to his logical side.

“Apparently not,” he cut her off.

“Like I said, with or without you I'm going to see you at the top,” she said, snatching her coat and pocketbook from the butler, who looked as if nothing unusual was going on.

“Bounce, bitch. Out of here,” Johnny snarled.

“Enjoy your bed … ALONE!”

“Oh, it's never alone, you little bitch. There are thousands of bitches like you that will do what you won't. If you didn't know, you know now. You were lucky to get this high up. Bitches like you know what the business is from the get-go; they don't play Ms. I'm-a-Stuck-up-Bitch like you.” As she was opening the door, Johnny continued, “That's right. Get the fuck out of my shit before I call security.” Fabiola slammed the door, almost knocking the pictures off the wall. She was angry at how disrespectful he was to her and lost control.

From the other side of the door she yelled, “Only bitch-ass niggas call security, you freckle-face bitch.” She thought of G.P., who never called the police. “They handle their own business.”

Johnny got off the couch and walked over to the door. “Didn't I tell you to leave, bitch?”

For a split second she thought about all the poise, manners, and professionalism she was supposed to have, but Johnny Wiz had violated and they were indeed out the door.

“Bitch, you better get out of my motherfucking suite, you tramp-ass bitch,” he said almost like he was talking out of the side of his neck.

She continued to speak up for herself. “All 'Cause I wouldn't let you fuck me? 'Cause I wouldn't let you put your freckled dick up in me?”

“Actually I wanted to fuck you in your ass, bitch,” he yelled through the door, not caring who heard him. “After I put it in your mouth. Now get the fuck from in front my door, bitch.”

“Make me, punk muthafucka,” she screamed back at him.

“Bitch, you are done in this world. You gon' be sucking dicks for a profession. The only place you gonna be able to get a job in this country is a whorehouse.”

“We'll see. You can't stop me. And you know it. You will see me again.”

“Yeah, when you're dragging behind your mother when she comes over to suck my dick and apologize for your dumb ass not giving me what I wanted when I wanted it.”

By then, hotel security had arrived and escorted her off the premises—kicking and screaming. She sat in her car and cried like a baby. She couldn't believe what just happened to her. What was supposed to be only lunch turned into a fucking disaster.

TRACK 10
A Smack in
the Face

abiola went straight to Shug's house and cried on her friend's shoulders for several hours. They sat on Shug's couch with a small wastebasket in front of the sofa filled with tissues. “You can still make this happen, Fab. You just have to work even harder,” Shug said as she hugged her best friend. It killed her to see Fab like this. “But whatever you do, you can't let your mother know what happened. If you know like I know, she'll snap. And knowing your mother, I am not sure on who.”

“I know, but what if he flies back out without coming to see me perform tonight at the showcase? I really need that deal.”

“He'll come to his senses once his dick goes down and
he hears you sing again. He's a businessman first and foremost, and you are as close to a sure things as there is.”

“I really hope so. I said some real fucked-up shit to him.”

“I know, and all you really did was defend yourself. Now, in the meantime you gotta put your game face on. For all you know this could have been a test.”

“A test?” Fabiola echoed. Shug's suggestion offered her a bit of relief. “I hope.”

* * *

Later at the showcase, Fabiola was backstage waiting her turn to perform. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she listened to the other people sing ahead of her. Fabiola had no idea what her destiny would be. She prayed for the best and tried to prepare herself for the worst, whatever that could happen.

Looking from behind the curtain into the crowd, Fabiola saw Shug, Viola, Adora, and her aunt Rose sitting together in the audience. As her eyes further scanned the auditorium, she saw Sheena, who had just been backstage applying the final touches to Fabiola's makeup, coming to take her seat beside the family. She could see the anxiety on their faces, all ready for her career to finally catapult to the next level. Then she looked at the music executives/judges table. Four members of The Wizard Entertainment Group were there. Johnny Wiz was sitting off to the side, along with a few other people that Fabiola knew were representatives from his camp. Johnny Wiz was as clean as the board of health, wearing a three-piece suit, sitting and watching intensely as the singer onstage in front of him performed.

Fabiola took a deep breath when the MC announced, “Coming to the stage is one of Richmond's own: Fabiooola Mays.”

Fabiola took the stage in a beautiful hunter-green minidress that complemented her cocoa-brown skin. The dress fit her
body like a glove, hugging all her curves. Fabiola was last to perform, and the crowd was restless and ready to go home. She launched right into her song, and her worst nightmare was coming true; for some odd reason the hometown crowd was cold. But after the first verse, Fabiola pulled out the big guns, hitting a note so strong it smacked every single person in attendance in the face and demanded their undivided attention. Everybody but Johnny Wiz, who got up, fixed his jacket, whispered something in one of the judges ears, and shook his head no. He then motioned to the people who were sitting with him that he was ready to go. In the process of gathering his entourage Johnny Wiz made so much commotion that everyone's attention was on him instead of the stage. At that moment Fabiola wanted to break down, run off the stage, and cry, but she didn't and continued her song to its final note.

Viola had no idea why Johnny Wiz was leaving in the middle of her daughter's stellar performance. Getting up from her seat, Viola quickly walked toward him. She was moving so fast her shawl kept falling from her shoulders.

“Mr. Wiz,” she called out to him. “Mr. Wiz.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to give Viola his undivided attention. “Yes, what is it, Mrs. Mays?” He took one look at her and knew she was Fabiola's mother. Fabiola was the spitting image of her mother.

“Please, sir, call me Viola.” She smiled. “Why are you leaving in the middle of your new big star's performance?”

“Because I'm not interested in her anymore,” he answered bluntly. “Not quite what I thought she would be,” he said in a way that he knew would cut Viola like a knife.

“What do you mean? She has the look … the look you said you were looking for. You said yourself that she was gorgeous, and we all know she can sing with the best of them. There is no denying
her gift.” She was trying to plead her daughter's case. “I don't know what happened in there tonight, but it was no fault of hers.”

“It isn't about what happened in there tonight,” Johnny Wiz said to her in his trademark calm melodic voice, “but rather what didn't happen today at lunch.”

A surprised Viola asked, “What happened at lunch? I was under the impression that everything went perfectly.”

“You see, Viola, your daughter doesn't quite understand how this industry works.”

“But she does, totally, and what she doesn't grasp, I will enlighten her about.”

“Well, it's a little too late for that.” He shook his head a little and gave her a half smile. “You see, we have over two hundred girls a week coming by the office wanting to get in my company however they can. They will do anything just to see me. I mean ANYTHING! Your daughter didn't feel she had to play by the same set of rules. A man in my position isn't used to being denied what he wants.”

Viola understood perfectly. “I'll talk to her. I'll convince her to do whatever you need her to do. She won't have a choice. Just give her another chance,” she begged.

“There are no second chances with The Wizard. Seconds come at the diners where she'll be waiting tables.”

“Please, Mr. Wiz, please, I am begging you.” As he walked away, Viola ran behind him like Scarlett O'Hara at the end of
Gone with the Wind
, just begging and pleading for another chance. But she wasn't humbling herself for her own benefit. No, this wasn't for her at all; it was for her daughter. On second thought, it was for her; this was her dream, too.

BOOK: GHETTO SUPERSTAR
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