Not A Good Look (13 page)

I
think everybody needed the break we got at our pool party. The Orlando show went much better than the Birmingham show. There were about two hundred teenagers in the crowd and they were screaming their heads off for Truth and Drama.

Everybody kind of crashed back at the hotel. We didn't do much partying, because we have a long ride today. We've got nine hours until we get to Charlotte.

“Hey!” Bethany yells as the bus pulls out of the hotel parking lot. “There are pictures from the Atlanta show up on Sandrarose.com!”

Sandra Rose is like one of the top gossip mavens in Atlanta! Anything that goes down in the A, she knows about it, and she is quick to put a celebrity on blast. The stars take off running when they see Sandra with that camera around her neck. I'm surprised that she's putting something up about Truth and Dreya already. They're newcomers to the game and she usually doesn't give too much press to any up-and-comers.

Dreya squeals, “Let me see! What does the article say?”

Bethany reads out loud. “Atlanta artists Truth and Drama gave a concert at Club Pyramids on Thanksgiving night. There's a lot of buzz about this new duo, and their song sounds like a hit. But sources tell me that the romance is manufactured and that Truth is really more interested in Drama's cousin and assistant, Sunday. The last pic in this spread just might prove this rumor to be true. Time will tell.”

“What!” Dreya screams. “Let me see the picture.”

I pull up Sandrarose.com on my own phone so that I can see for myself. The picture is completely innocent, I think. I'm standing in the hallway behind the dressing room, doing something with my phone. Oh, that's when I was putting up Dreya's Twitter messages. Truth is standing behind me, and he seems to be staring at my booty, and he's biting his bottom lip.

Dreya throws Bethany's phone at Truth and storms to the back of the bus. He laughs, picks up the phone, and looks at the picture. Then he laughs some more.

“Dreya, stop tripping! I wasn't even thinking about Sunday! I was practicing my lyrics in my head. I don't even think I knew she was out there!”

“So what!” Dreya yells. “Everyone thinks that you want her now! Everyone is laughing at me.”

“Do you think people believe half the stuff Sandra Rose says? She gets her stories from
sources.
Come on now! I bet some of the stuff she just makes up off the top of her head.”

I don't say anything, because I don't want to be in the middle of their argument. But I read Sandra Rose all the time, and for the most part her stuff is accurate. Every now and then she gets it wrong, but usually she's right on target. I wonder who her source was on this story.

Sam's face is real tight. “You okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I'm good. I just feel like I'm getting played sometimes.”

“By who? Not by me, I hope? I'm not thinking about Truth.”

He shrugs. “I don't know. I just feel played.”

“Well, what do you mean? Tell me what you mean.”

“Come on, Sunday. Truth is staring at you in that picture like he wants to get it in.”

“You saw the blog post?”

“Yeah, I saw it. Truth thinks he can have it all. Record deal, Drama, and you, too?”

“He doesn't have me.”

“Right. You keep saying that. But you sure are hesitating about being my girl, like you're waiting for something else to pop off.”

“You're tripping, Sam, you know that—right?”

“Whatever.”

 

It's a tense nine hours to Charlotte. Dreya stays in her secluded area the whole time, sometimes crying, sometimes yelling at Truth. Big D can't even calm her down by telling her that all of it is publicity that will help blow up her album sales.

By the time we get to Charlotte, Dreya's voice is hoarse from all of the crying and hollering she's done on the bus. Sam doesn't even sit next to me on the bus. He goes to the front with the crew and pretends that he needs to talk about stage logistics and whatnot. He's mad, too, but for totally no reason. I don't know how many times I have to say the same thing before he's convinced.

It's five o'clock now and the show is at seven, in a teen nightclub. When we get to the hotel, Bethany tries making Dreya some tea, but she refuses to drink it.

Big D bursts into Dreya's hotel room and says, “Drama, you need to get that tea down your throat. The show is in less than two hours. I need you to get your voice right.”

“No. They're not going to make fun of me,” Dreya whispers. “Let them see what they'll do without Drama.”

Big D looks like he's about to blow up. “Sunday, put on the flyest outfit you have. You're gonna perform in Drama's place tonight.”

“No, she isn't! She can't replace me!” Dreya squeaks.

“I told you to stop tripping about that blogger, but you wanted to act a fool,” Big D says. “Now you've lost your voice. I've got paper to stack, and that means the show must go on.”

“But I don't know the choreography,” I say, trying to think of anything that will get me off the hook.

Big D shrugs. “Neither does Dreya. You can do whatever you want to do out there—just sing that hook.”

I take one look at Dreya before I leave the room, and she is throwing me some serious evil eye. She can't be mad at me, though. It's her own fault. She knows that I don't want Truth, so that blog article shouldn't have even bothered her.

I go up to my room and pull out the cutest outfit I have. A jean skirt, baby tee, and some Ugg boots. It's not like Drama's style, but it'll have to do.

There's a knock on my hotel room door. I open it to Monie and Regina, Dreya's hairstylist and makeup artist.

“What's going on?” I ask.

“Big D said to come up here and hook you up,” Monie says.

“But won't Dreya be mad?”

Regina shrugs. “Big D is the one who cuts our checks, so we do what he says.”

Monie pulls the ponytail holder out of my hair. “Now what are we gonna do with this?”

In less than an hour, Monie and Regina have me looking like true diva material. I've never been so gelled, glossy, and glittery in my life.

“This girl is a masterpiece!” Regina says.

“You got that right,” Monie replies with a giggle. “If Truth didn't want her before, he might be checking for her now.”

“Y'all stop that,” I say. “That's what started all this mess to begin with.”

“Sorry,” Regina says. “We just think it's cute that y'all got a little teenage love triangle going on.”

“We don't!” I say.

They leave, but they're giggling the entire way down the hall. I don't think they believe a word I'm saying about not liking Truth.

When I hear a knock on my door, I think it's them coming back. I swing it open to fuss some more, but it's Sam.

“Well, look at you. You look good, girl,” he says.

At least he doesn't seem mad at me, nor is he making any jokes about Truth. “Regina and Monie threw something together, but it'll have to do.”

“They did a good job, and so will you at the show. Good luck.”

“Do you mean that? You aren't still mad about the Sandra Rose thing, are you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. All of this is just gonna end up making you a star. And that's the goal, right?”

I nod. “Yeah, that's the goal.”

I decide not to spend Truth's entire set out on the stage like Dreya does. They only need me on the one song, and I don't like the spotlight enough to stay out there the whole time. Luckily, we're doing “What Ya Gonna Do” first, so I can hurry up and get it over with.

I stand backstage until I get my cue. Dreya and Bethany stand behind me, both giving me evil glares. Dreya is finally sipping on her tea, but it's too late now. I think she's learned her lesson. Big D doesn't play.

“You're not gonna take my spot,” Dreya hisses.

“I don't want your spot,” I hiss back. “Plus, you've already signed a record deal. What are you worried about?”

“Just make sure you don't forget it.”

I roll my eyes as the music comes on. Next I'm running out on stage with Truth and doing my own little dance moves. They are nowhere near as seductive as Dreya's, but that's not my style.

I get pumped that the audience knows the words to the hook and they're singing with me. This is my music they're getting pumped about, which, of course, makes me pumped, too!

At the end of the song, I jog off the stage, still feeling the rush of adrenaline pumping through my body.

“You did great,” Big D says. “You were getting them hyped out there.”

“I wasn't doing all that booty popping like Dreya does, though.”

“That's unnecessary, and it's her, not you. You did fine. I bet she'll get that voice in order now, won't she?”

I laugh. “Yeah, she will. She thinks I'm trying to take her place.”

Big D replies, “A little healthy competition ain't ever hurt nobody.”

T
he stops in Chicago, Detroit, and Boston were all the same. Cold! I'm so glad to live in Atlanta that I don't know what to do. Dreya made sure she got her voice together and she sang and danced her butt off in all three cities. She and Truth made up, too, because Sandra Rose printed something else about them that was more favorable to Dreya. Sandra even called Dreya a goddess. I'm not sure what she meant by that, but hey, it made Dreya happy again.

That's a good thing, because Dreya being hateful was making the tour the opposite of fun. Bethany took the brunt of her anger, though, and had to do all kinds of ridiculous errands. It's almost a shame that Bethany isn't getting a dime for being on this tour with us. She's just rolling groupie-style, wishing, hoping, and praying for a come-up of her own.

But now we're at the last city on the tour. New York, baby! At the courtesy of BET and Mystique, we're staying at the Ritz-Carlton, and we'll be in the city for three whole days. Dreya and Truth have to do some radio interviews and contests to get people hyped about the episode of
106 & Park.

I need to go shopping, because Big D told me and Bethany to look hot. We're going on stage with Dreya and Truth. He doesn't want to take a chance of Dreya's voice giving out on her because she's been singing all week.

Monie and Regina take me to Barneys. I don't have Barneys money, but Big D gave me a credit card and told me to listen to Monie and Regina. I'm thinking that one of them must be Big D's woman on the side, because it is kind of odd that Shelly isn't on this trip.

When we get to Barneys, Regina drags me to the junior section. In minutes they've put together a Juicy Couture ensemble. It's a pink half sweater, gray wool skirt, and sparkly pink tights. Then they find some designer boots that have an ungodly price tag.

“At least they're not Louboutins,” Regina says. “They're pretty reasonable, actually.”

“I guess. If six hundred dollars is reasonable,” I say.

“Trust me, these are the cheapest boots in the store,” Monie adds.

“I've got to hurry, y'all. Big D set up a meeting this afternoon for me, Sam, and Mystique.”

Regina says, “Well, let's get you out of here. We've got to get you fly for that meeting!”

I meet Sam and Big D in the hotel lobby at 12:45 p.m. sharp. Our meeting is scheduled for 1:15 p.m. in the hotel restaurant, although Big D doesn't expect Mystique to show up until 2:00 p.m. Stars never show up on time.

“You've got the music, right?” I ask Sam.

He smiles and holds up an MP3 player, an iPod Shuffle, and a CD. “I've got every listening medium. She said she wanted to take a listen at lunch.”

“I'm nervous! What if she doesn't like it?” I ask.

My nerves are shot, thinking about how Mystique is going to react to my music. I didn't start getting nervous until I let Regina and Monie help me get dressed. They kept talking about how this is my big break and how I can't afford to mess this up.

They got all the way inside my head and made little butterflies dance a jig in my stomach.

“She'll love it,” Big D says. “Trust me when I say, that track sounds like something Ne-Yo did.”

“I love Ne-Yo!” I exclaim.

“Well, it's just that original and current. Relax, she's going to want you on her team. Spelman, here you come!”

After Big D's pep talk, I'm a little bit calmer, but I still feel my leg shaking under the table.

Mystique surprises us by showing up right after we sit down! She's not only on time, but early. It's only one o'clock! Her bodyguard walks her into the restaurant and stands behind her, looking like a WWE wrestler in a suit.

The hostess leads them over to our table; Big D and Sam stand up. I can't decide if I should or not, so I just stay seated.

“I'm Mystique.” She shakes hands with Big D and Sam and gives me a hug.

Her bodyguard takes a seat at the table behind us. I guess he's trying to give us our privacy, but he's totally there, hulking in the background. I try to ignore him, but I can hear him breathing and his fingers drumming on the table.

Big D says, “You already know me, and these are my songwriting geniuses Sam Wilkins and Sunday Tolliver.”

“It's so good to see you, Deionte, and meet you, Sam and Sunday. I know I'm a little early for our meeting, but I really want to hear this song!”

She pulls a set of earphones out of her purse. “Who has the song?”

Sam fumbles with the iPod but hooks her earphones up to it and flicks to our song. She closes her eyes while she listens. Her face shows no emotion, but her head bobs up and down in time with the music. I think she's enjoying it, but I can't tell.

When the song finishes she says, “Let me hear it one more time.”

A huge smile crosses Big D's face. Her wanting to hear it again must be a good sign! Sam presses Play once more, and this time she hums along on some parts, sings on others, and hits a few ad-libs. She's freaking the song and making it her own! OMG! She likes it!

At the end of the second play she says, “I have to have this song on my new album. It's a single, too, I can tell.”

Sam and I just stare, both of us without words! Big D lets out a huge laugh.

“I think they weren't expecting you to love it,” he says. “Both of them look like they're in a state of shock.”

“I…I'm honored,” I stammer. “That would be a dream come true for you to sing this song.”

“You guys don't have a name yet, so I'll pay fifty thousand on the front end. But you'll get songwriter credit and points, too.”

I look at Big D and hope he can read my mind. “Points are how they calculate royalties. This is a huge break for y'all, because, like I said, most new songwriters don't get points.”

“I heard someone was trying to pay for college,” Mystique says. “I hope you get into Spelman, Sunday, and I wish you the best. I always wanted to go to college myself, but I started in this industry when I was nine years old.”

Can I just say that I can't believe she's this nice! She has sold millions of records worldwide, has Grammys, AMAs, VMAs, and every other award you can think of, but she's sweet as pie. She keeps smiling at us with those beautifully whitened teeth!

Sam still hasn't said anything. “Mystique. Thank you,” he croaks.

“Who's singing on the track?” Mystique asks. “Epsilon is giving me my own label and I'm looking for artists. That's not Drama, is it?”

“That's Sunday,” Big D beams.

“Your voice is phenomenal, and you're beautiful, too,” Mystique says. “Do you think you'd like to be on my label?”

I pause for a moment before answering. If I sign a record deal with Mystique, it would mean all of the things I'm doing right now: touring nonstop, shows, interviews, and constant traveling. How does this fit in with college?

“I know what you're thinking,” Mystique says. “And we can work around school.”

“But how? This tour stuff is already cutting into my school attendance.”

“We could work it out if we tried really hard over the summer, and you could still attend Spelman in the fall. It would actually look good to sponsors that you are taking your education seriously.”

“Can I think about it?” I ask.

Big D says, “Girl, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You can't sleep on this.”

Mystique lifts one hand. “No, Deionte, let her think about it. Her talent isn't going anywhere and neither is my offer. College is important and I'm betting that it's been her dream for a long time.”

“It has been.”

She reaches over the table and strokes my arm. “Well, dreams are something that I hold dear. Take all the time you need.”

“Okay.”

“I'll have my lawyers draw up some paperwork regarding this song.”

“I'm sure your parents would want to look it over.”

“Mine definitely will,” I say.

Sam nods. “My mom will, too.”

“We'll talk more after the
106 & Park
shooting. I need to take a nap before that. All those screaming kids are gonna give me a headache. Do y'all mind if I skip lunch?”

“No, of course not,” Big D says. “Get your beauty rest—not that you need it.”

She smiles and stands up, causing Sam and Big D to rise to their feet as well. This time I stand, too, because I want to give her a real hug if she tries to get one.

And she does!

When she leaves the restaurant and we all sit back down I say, “It feels like that happened too quickly. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” Big D says. “That's how it goes down in this industry. When opportunity knocks, you've got to be ready. It just so happened that you two were prepared with a hot song.”

“But fifty thousand dollars? Just like that?” Sam asks. “That seems too good to be true.”

“That girl is worth hundreds of millions of dollars, and the budget for her album is about ten million dollars. She got this song at a discount, on the front end, but y'all are gonna clean up in royalties.”

I narrow my eyes. “What about you, Big D? What's your cut gonna be? I know you didn't set this all up out of the kindness of your heart.”

He laughs. “Because I set all this up, I'm acting as your manager, and that entitles me to fifteen percent of everything y'all make.”

“That's cool,” Sam says. “Most managers try to get twenty percent.”

“Okay. I guess it's cool,” I concur.

“Both of y'all mother's are going to have to sign those documents and send them back before any cash changes hands.”

I know my mother will sign without a doubt. I'm just thankful that my first year at Spelman is paid for! Now, even if my guidance counselor can't get me any scholarships, I'm good to go.

“I wish you would reconsider Mystique's offer for a record deal. Shoot, if I had been thinking straight I woulda signed you instead of your cousin.”

“Yeah, you called me Disney, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember that. Somehow I don't think I could've sold you to Epsilon. That was some divine intervention or something that got Mystique on your bandwagon, girl.”

I laugh out loud. “I wouldn't say she's on my bandwagon.”

“Maybe not, but she sees what I see. Your talent isn't going anywhere, but then neither is Spelman,” Big D says.

“I know, Big D. I said I was gonna think about it.”

Sam flags down a waitress. “I don't know about y'all, but I'm hungry. Who wants lunch?”

It's only been a few moments since this all went down, but already the decision is weighing heavily on my mind. Spelman or a record deal? I never thought I'd have to make a choice like this. I can't even decide if I want a boyfriend! How can anyone expect me to make the right call on this?