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Oh, he was good. Really damn good. The best pathological liar and wordsmith I’ve ever seen.
Asshole
That’s the best you could do? Really?
Simon called me three times before I blocked him. I could only imagine the headlines from the blogs. He’s such an asshole. I said make it good but not villainize me.
Stepping into our apartment, I sighed hearing Hillary’s favorite episode of 90210 playing. “Girl. Hil, do I have a story to tell you.” I dropped our food and my purse on the table. Peeled off my coat, heading towards her room. “Within the last hour, I went from relationship goals to proposed to, to allegedly dumped for the world to see. When I tell you niggas ain’t shit, I mean they ain’t shit. And why haven’t you…” I pushed open her door, and the image wrecked me to my core. I released a blood churning scream, “Hillary, no.”
“Ez, can I ask you a question without you getting defensive?” Tiredness blended with my mom’s soft voice.
Today’s chemo treatment wasn’t as rough as the days before. We started out playing spades and dominoes. Then three hours in, she wanted to watch some TV so we’ve been catching up on the new season of The Godfather of Harlem. One of the other patients, Mrs. Greene, surprised her with a handmade crochet blanket, headscarf, and mittens. Granted, Florida had become a gruesome winter state, but it wasn’t that damn cold. Those added items were for the coldness her body felt during and after chemo.
Pausing the show, I sat up in my recliner and gave her my full attention. Ever since my dad pulled that bullshit last Sunday, she’s been extra careful about the conversations we have. “What’s up, mom. What do you want to ask me?”
Resting her head against the headrest of the recliner, her tired bright eyes smiled so comforting that it made my chest ache. “Are you happy, Ezekiel? I mean, really happy. Yes, you have money and have access to any woman you want, but are you truly content with that?”
No matter the battles I fought in my sleep, I’d never burden her with them. Those were my issues to deal with. I wanted my mom to live out however much time God had blessed her to have in peace.
“Lately, no.” First person that came to mind was Sunnie. My Sunnie Mae. Outside of my relationship with my family, she was my only constant that made me happy. “I’m content in the spaces I currently dwell in but it doesn’t feel like happiness if that makes sense. A few days ago I met with the directors of my company to announce that after this month I won’t be doing videos anymore. I’m stepping away from that roll.”
My career as an adult entertainer was coming to an end. All this started with one picture the girl I was messing around with in college posted on her Twitter and it blew up. A picture of me in nothing but my boxer briefs and socks. Dick print and the off-guard smile had it going viral. Women went crazy over me with crutches and boxers. I never felt depressed over my injury. It came from the response of those around me. Yes, I’ve wanted to play in the NFL since a kid but I was realistic to know that dream couldn’t happen if I got injured.
Depression took a hold of me viciously when my dad stopped being my dad. He was a great father until I got hurt and then it’s like he didn’t care to be a father to me anymore. I had no value to him. I no longer served him any purpose. I killed his dreams of being a father to a professional athlete.
Instead of trying to go with me to rehab or guide me to making a new career shift, he cut me off. Cut me off financially, emotionally, and supportively. Told me that he wasn’t going to take care of a loser. Luckily, I maintained my grades and received enough academic scholarships to pick up the loss of my athletic scholarship. My mom gave me money whenever she could and so did my brother, but I refused to let them support me, especially when my mom’s cancer came back. She’d been in remission for three years and it came back with a vengeance.
A cycle that had us all constantly kneeling at the cross with anxiety for decades. My depression from losing my dad and seeing my mom slowly wither away. Sex became my escape and everything else took off from there.
“But is that really what you want to do?” Her question had me stunned for a minute, and she chuckled seeing my reaction. “Don’t get me wrong, Ezekiel. I hate that you went the overly promiscuous route.” Wow. That’s some selective words to use. Gotta love my mom. “But it makes you happy.”
“For the last ten-plus years, I’ve been on this rollercoaster. High up in the sky.” Literally haven’t had a sober day in years. “The adrenaline of living a party lifestyle for twenty-four hours. My days were fun and my nights long but it’s gotten exhausting. It doesn’t mean the same to me anymore. What fueled me for so long was stubbornness and pride. Rebellion more than anything, especially after dad tossed me to the side like I wasn’t anything. But now, I want more, ma. I want more substance than anything.”
I wanted Sunnie Mae Austin.
My heart truly grew fonder the more distance accompanied those empty spaces of when we weren’t together. My last trip to LA was very intentional. I had no plans on going to the awards show during the weekend of my birthday. All I wanted to do was see Sunnie and feel the imprint of her love for me course through my body. My personal IV of fluids rejuvenated me.
“I absolutely love Sunnie. She is such a sweetheart and so selfless.” Her eyes sparkled as mine did whenever I thought of Sunnie. “Why haven’t you two dated over the years? Is it because of the other women you have sex with?”
Sighing, I slouched back and decided to keep the conversation honest. “Sunnie won’t give me a fair chance until I stop making videos and using drugs.” She gasped, hands shaking as she sobbed. I hated breaking her heart more than I already did. Hurting her was in some degree killing me.
Making my chest tight and my heart ache. Hearing her cries and seeing her tears, every word my father ever lashed out felt like it held true in this moment. “Yeah, ma. I haven’t had a sober day in some years.” I brushed a hand over my head, uncertain if I wanted to reveal all my shortcomings and flaws. “You raised Jeremiah and me to take pride in our temples. Yeah, I eat clean and workout consistently, but I tarnish it by sleeping with multiple women. I drink and do drugs to silence the voices in my head. To erase the memory of seeing the look of disappointment on your face.”
Reading the text that came through made me wish I had a cup right now. Never in my life did I think I’d be in a group chat with three other dudes and one female. Crystal was three months pregnant with the possibility of one out of four men as the father. That was another reason I wanted out. Early on it was normal for certain entertainers that I had sex with to have pregnancy scares even with them on the birth control shot. This situation with Crystal hit me differently.
Crystal
I’m assuming the reason you’re ignoring me is because we haven’t gotten the results
Don’t do this to me, Damien.
This isn’t fair and you know it
Telling my mother that I might be a father would never happen until we got the test results back. Giving her false hope didn’t sit right with me. Being in this situation put a lot of things into perspective. Yeah, Crystal was cool, and the pussy was good, but that was it. Did I really want the mother of my child to have a career as a porn star? Did I want my kid growing up being picked on in school because its parents did some nasty shit and it was on the internet for the whole world to see? Have them embarrassed to ask us to come to career day?
If God had a little more mercy to spare on me, I hoped and prayed that He saw fit to bless me with a wife and kids. To live out the rest of my days being a family man.
“It breaks my heart knowing that you’re using drugs, Ezekiel. It hurts as your mother to see my son destroy himself.” Weak from treatment, she used all the little strength she had to wrap her arms around my neck and cry on my shoulder. Her cries turned into prayers. Several of the nurses passed by with sympathetic looks.
