TITAN

TITAN

The Exception

A novel by
Kate
Stewart

©
2013

“The more so, I
say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold,
for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by
contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all
over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be
comfortable anymore.”

-
Herman Melville, Moby Dick

For all the ladies out there
chasing the white whale, trying to attain the unattainable.

Also for my three First Mates:
Angela, Erica, and Irene who encourage me to dream away.

He glares at his manager one more time
and throws emphasis on each word, “
I am not doing it, Jeff
! I don’t need
the damn money. I don’t need the exposure. I don’t need shit. I will keep
things moving on my own. Why the hell are you pushing me, man?”

“Tite, I am just saying…,” Jeff
replied, sheepishly.

“Fuck it, fuck you, I don’t want to
hear any more about it. This track and I am done tonight. Fucking endorsements,
what the hell? I don’t sell anything but lyrics. Isn’t it enough I have to
compete with these little motherfuckers coming up, making rhymes and cashing
in?”

Titan waves his hands angrily at
the sound board.

“This isn’t enough to keep me on
top? Well, I say it is. What I decide to do is this… rhyme. Nothing else. Lay
tracks and sit back. I don’t mind this work, I love this work, but sticking me
in a spot to endorse something will never fucking happen. Get over it,” he
snapped, eyeing Jeff suspiciously.

“This isn’t for me. This is for
you! What did they offer, Jeff?  You aren’t rich enough yet, motherfucker?
You know what? Don’t tell me what they offered. I would hate to have to lose
our friendship over this shit. You know what, Jeff?  Visiting hours
are
over and you ain’t family.”

The rest of the crew stared at Jeff
with expectancy, as if to agree with Titan, and waited for Jeff to leave.

“Fuck you, Tite! I was asked, and I
asked you, that’s all,” Jeff snapped back. “My job is to manage all business
and business propositions and that’s what I am trying to do. I am tired anyway.
Don’t forget I have my own fucking family to take care of. And fuck you,
Jessie!”

He shouted at the rest of the crew,
“…and fuck you, too.”

He stormed out of the studio, still
muttering under his breath.

Tite looked in Jeff’s direction and
shared a smile with Jessie.

He had done it again and gotten the
best of Jeff.

“He’ll be back,” he muttered, in
his best Terminator voice and the crew chuckled and nodded in agreement with
him.

Tite put on his headphones and
barked, “Hey Jessie, bring that beat back….turn it up a little.”

The girls piled into Jordy’s truck,
exhausted, and discussing the night’s funnier details. “Jordy, play track 6!” Dee asked from the back seat.

“Alright,” Jordy replied. 

She was more worried about the
drive home then what was coming through the speakers. She checks herself in the
mirror and can’t believe she the way she looks compared to how she feels.

Her makeup was still perfect and
her hair was still in place.

It was very close to what she
looked like five hours ago, when she got ready for the night out.

Stupid bitch what a/

 Stuupid bitch/

love
the
way you moved it bitch/

like
a
game of chess/

except
you
fucked with the best/

Now checkmate, bitch, you have
nothing left/

 
it’s
insane, but hey you came this way/

 
now
,
pay up bitch you know this isn’t a game/

 I am playing bitch/

you
think
the shit you wrote is my life?/

still
bitter bitch, you ain’t no one’s wife?/

you
can
lie some more/

 
you
can roll with it/

either
way
this is your show/

and
I
ain’t in it/

you
lost/

and
it
cost ya/

what
a
stupid bitch/

The whole car erupts into verse
with the song as she slows to a stop to drop the girls off.

“Jordy, be careful. Text me when
you get home,” Angie said, climbing out of the back seat.

 “I will, and you call me
tomorrow Angie, I mean it. Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home to
Cameron? He will be pissed,” Jordy said referring to Angie’s husband of fifteen
years.

“No, Jordy, he knows I am staying
with you or Dee,” Angie grabs her purse and gives her a quick smile. “Are we
doing shit and shit, tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Jordy said with a smile.

“Bye, Jordy!” Dee
waved, laughing at Angie, who was half dancing toward her front door.

Jordy put her seatbelt on, still
heavily buzzed, as she prepares for the drive home. 

The buzzing in her head is starting
to catch up with her.

She picks up her iPod, pressing
shuffle on her mellow mix.

“I love you, Tite, but not now,”
she said as she pulled away.

He doesn’t want to think about Jeff
and his bullshit. His voice is sore and he is hungry, starving really. These fucking
people with these fucking ideas about what HE should do. He had made a joke
when Jeff left, to keep things light in the studio. He didn’t want anything
negative affecting almost 24 hours of work. No one would ever talk him into
shit, ever again.

He had done enough for them.

He had done enough.

He had let them help shape his
image and pull the strings for long enough. His mind was racing. They would
never leave him alone.

Never.

He was still too popular.

No one who had ever been in this
game had gone this long and stayed on top. It wasn’t supposed to last this
long.

They would never leave him alone.

He would record what he wanted. He
would keep doing the same thing and run his own life by making his own
decisions. He lived to work and that’s all he did. His life was the studio and
home.

Why was that not enough?

His cell phone rang and he killed
it immediately not bothering to see who it is. He knows he’s just irritated and
he shouldn’t have taken it out on Jeff, but fuck, he should know better than to
try to get at him while he is working.

“I’m too damn tired,” he mutters as
he turns the ignition. He drives the streets purposely, avoiding the route
home, to clear his head. He rarely gets a chance to see the city he both loves
and hates. He looks at the street lights and they seem to be glaring around
him, tracing their way to his windshield. He drives a little longer and feels
his eyes slipping. He decides to head home before he passes out. He turns on
his blinker as he slowly approaches a stop light.

He looks around him, surveying the
streets, and hears his own voice. He recognizes his song,
Chess
.

He looks to the right and sees a
car full of girls singing it. This isn’t the first time he’s seen this but he
never tires of it. He smiles and then his eyes wander to the driver.

 
Damn, she’s beautiful!

He stares at her face, trying to
get a better look at her. Her mouth was moving to his words, verbatim. 

Beautiful girl, singing MY shit!

He smiles and cannot take his eyes
off of her. He lowers his passenger side window to get a better look at the
spectacle next to him. She seems oblivious to him sitting right next to her. He
was almost laughing at this point as the girls got out at the complex,
stumbling toward a townhouse, waving and yelling good-bye to the driver.

She is alone. Jordy is alone.

He smiles, hearing her friends call
her name and say goodnight. His head snaps back to her as he hears her say, “I
love you Tite, but, not now.”

The light changes and he hears
Chess
go silent.

Hearing the new song fill the air,
he starts protesting immediately.

Oh, hell no!

He can hardly contain his laughter,
he is almost hysterical. She switched from his song,
Chess
to P.M.
Dawn? 

Still roaring with laughter, he
pushes the gas, clicking his signal
.

She pulls into the K-Stop.

“Food, bed,” she mutters, knowing
she is taking a risk by stopping at all. She looks around the store and sees
it’s full of young thugs and old drunks and then looks at the car clock, 3 a.m.

Shit.

She sighs, thankful she is off
tomorrow. She hardly ever went out anymore and felt the sting, earlier, of
being one of the older girls at the club.

She knew, after tonight, she was
done with clubs. She had been there, done that.

From now on, it was pubs and
gatherings only.

She no longer felt comfortable in
clubs, getting freaked on by little kids.

“But, you still look good girl,”
she laughed at her blurry reflection with P.M. Dawn still singing.

“Baby you send me, baby you send
me, baby you send me, baby you
… ”

She grabbed her purse and turned
off the ignition.

“Bet they would never play
that
in the club,” she said, laughing to herself.

“Ok, you fucking stalker,” he
mutters to himself as he watches her walk in the K- Stop. “What now?”

She’s out of the car and he takes
in a breath. He wasn’t expecting her to be so beautiful. He had seen it all,
fucked all of them, every type.

He had spent time with models and
divas but this woman was doing strange shit to him that he didn’t like. The
last touch he had did not look this good to him either.

She was tall and thin and had long
black hair. She had a perfect face from what he saw. She was more skinny than
curvy, but she had something he liked. He stared at her hard through the
window.

“I am just curious,” he mutters out
loud, “You’re tired, you’re bored, you’re hungry, and the last touch you had
has been a minute. Just grow some balls, Tite!”

He reaches for the handle and
hesitates. He tilts his seat back and watches her.

He surveys the store, only a few
people in there. If this caused a scene, it would take longer for people to get
there than he planned on staying.

“Fuck it,” he put his truck in
reverse, deciding it wasn’t worth it and started to pull off. He stopped when
he saw her again through store window.

He shoved the truck back in park.

“Funyons, jerky,
Snickers
,”
she mutters to herself as she grabs handfuls of stuff off the shelves. “And
some chocolate milk for the morning.”

Jordy smiles to
herself
,
remembering Angie’s hangover cure, knowing it never helps. Angie would
appreciate this. She remembers all too well the time they stopped at the store
after a long night of drinking, only for Jordy to grab
an
expired
chocolate milk and guzzle half of it before realizing it.

Jordy threw up for half an hour
while Angie just laughed the whole damn time.

She should have brought Angie home
with her. They could have done their usual bitching about a hangover while
binging on shit food, watching shit movies. It was their Sunday routine. She
realized she should go back and get her so they were already in the same place
in the morning, otherwise Angie wouldn’t answer her phone and the day would be
gone. She decided she would call her when she left the store.

She doubled back and grabbed more
snacks knowing Angie would eat everything if she didn’t.

 
She will also blow dope
smoke in your face while you sleep
, Jordy thought,
smiling.

She had no idea how she had lived
without Angie until now. She smiled thinking about how grateful she was to have
her. Angie had never let her down, never gave her any reason to not trust her
and always kept their talks, just that,
theirs
. She reminded her
of Jason so much. She knew as long as she was friends with Angie, she would
always have a piece of Jason with her. They had the same laugh, the same smile,
and the same crazy bullshit idiot tendencies.

Angie had two speeds, mellow or
extreme, and Jordy loved them both. Angie had no family around and she and
Jordy had become so close over the last year, when Jason got sick with heart
disease and passed.

Jordy shuddered at how horrible it
was. Not a day went by that she didn’t think of him. He was her first kiss when
they were kids, her first love. They had dated all through high school and had
broken up, remaining friends after graduation.

Jordy had known Angie through her
and Jason’s relationship, but it wasn’t until he got sick that they became
close, both losing their minds and grieving together until the day he left
them. They both knew they would never be the same after that.

Jordy smiles as she thinks of her
and Angie’s shenanigans since. They were always getting themselves into the
most random situations.

Jordy reaches for the chocolate
milk when she hears, “Baby, you send me,” being sung in a playful, completely
out of key, tone at the next cooler over.

Damn it, someone is going to try to
fuck with me!

Dreading contact with
whomever
it was, she looked up to see who was singing her
song, ready to get rid of them quickly. When she sees the source of her
annoyance, it takes her a few seconds to recognize the face.

That face is so familiar.

I know this face.

Realization strikes her, paralyzing
her instantly. She freezes, not realizing her hand was letting go of the milk,
it fell to the floor and started to leak everywhere.

She was in a complete cloud of
disbelief because standing there before her was the biggest rap star in the
world.