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“That’s dope as hell.” Chester held out his fist. “One more question before we close the show.” He rubbed his hands together with this stupid ass grin, Eric shifting with nervousness. “Sunnie Austin.” Candice stiffened, and my chest warmed. “Is she homie or the homieeeee?”
I mastered a neutral poker face years ago and maintained it throughout this interview. However, he mentioned her name and my cheeks pushed back and all fifty-two were on display. “Sunnie is…” I licked my lips, reminiscing about the last time I was in her feisty, sexy ass presence. Such an honor it was. A true honor. “She’s my therapy.” Candice’s hand slipped from my thigh. Her leg started bouncing, her face tight. “Before you ask, no. She and I have never been intimate. Never even shared a kiss. Shit, some days she can barely stand me. But I cherish her more than I can fathom. She’s my earth, my place of grounding. My homie, lover, and friend.”
A mixed energy wafted around the room. Pitied eyes felt sorry for Candice, a complete waste. I’ve never given her the impression that she and I were more than what was played out on the internet - two adults having consensual sex. A few smiles and long looks at the memory of Sunnie’s beauty. They were like me - unashamed victims addicted to the glow of chocolate skin and two dime-sized crescents in her cheeks.
“We’ll that’s it, folks. The GOAT of all time, Damien. And upcoming superstar, Candice.” Chester and Eric finished out their outro while Candice and I stood, ready to take the promo pics and leave. My trips to LA were never relaxing but a hectic schedule that consisted of back-to-back meetings from the time I landed to the time I left.
“Aye, Damien. I didn’t mean any harm.” Eric wanted to save face and apologize. It was way too late for that.
“Yes, you did.” I don’t understand how people can act surprised when you call them out on their blatant shit. “Be honest, you have a podcast centered on gossip and women. How you eat is your business but don’t ever disrespect me like that again.” I walked out with Candice’s heels clacking behind me.
When did women start to assume that men were mind readers? When did God give us that gift and was I left out when it was distributed? Why is it so hard for women to open their mouths and say what’s bothering them rather than pout like a fucking child and sigh so hard that their lungs burn? Candice wanted me to care, wanted me to ask what was bothering her. I didn’t care. Never cared. Never gave a small inkling that I did.
Crystal:
Hey, are you on the way?
Yes ma’am. I’ll be there in 20.
Pocketing my phone, I looked down at the pouting grown, suddenly mute adult. “I got shit to do. You good?”
I wanted to laugh watching her eyes try to widen but those thick ass lashes stopped her greatness. “Are you kidding me right now? No, Damien, I am not good.” Did she really think I’d take her seriously stomping her feet like a damn toddler? “How could you embarrass me like that in front of all those people?”
What the hell is she talking about?
“Refresh my memory. How did I embarrass you, Candice? You had several opportunities to speak on your career before they started interviewing me, yet you choose to sit your ass there like my groupie instead of a grown woman about her business.” Reason two-million-eight hundred- and eighty-six why I’ll always be a single man.
“Wow. So, I’ma groupie now?” The emotions in her voice had no reason to be present in this moment.
“You got selective hearing too, huh? Listen, I’m not about to argue with you over shit that doesn’t make sense or deserve my energy. Be safe in these LA streets.” I hopped in my car and drove off, ignoring all her yells.
Twenty minutes in LA traffic is more like an hour, and that’s how long it took me to reach my appointment with my good friend Crystal Rose. “Hey,” she stood to hug me.
“Hey. You good?”
Red eyes looked everywhere but at me. “I don’t know, E.” She sniffed. “I’m scared and I feel so conflicted and like a horrible person.”
Pulling her into my chest, I held her, wrapping her in my arms, and covering her while she sobbed in my chest. “It’s going to be okay. This ain’t all on you, Crys. You gotta stop blaming yourself. We all played a part not just you. One step at a time. We’re going to take this test and then move accordingly after that, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“I got you.”
What happens when you die? My Mama says that you go to the righteous side of hell until the rapture. I looked it up myself and read something of a similar substance, but it wasn’t clear. However, it didn’t stop my heart from racing and my mind from wandering. Eight weeks ago, I started having nightmares. Nightmares that consisted of the day I died… alone. My parents were the only ones at my funeral.
Not my sister.
Not my close friends.
No one.
“Monah said you don’t have to be completely nude. I can put these pasties over your nipples and you can wear a nude colored thong. Is that cool?” Hillary, my best friend and assistant, held up the thin piece of tape.
The illusion of me topless would still be there. Nipples covered or not. My whole vagina is exposed in a crotchless panty set. “Yeah, that’s cool.” Her doe brown eyes questioned my solemn demeanor. “Did Aleyah text me back yet?” Before her deep cherry matte stained lips could part, I questioned her about my sister.
Any talk of Aleyah got her to smile bright. My sister had that effect on people, though she hated it. Her contagious aura felt like angels had sprinkled their magical power over her so she could be a peaceful haven for those on earth. Aleyah and I were seven years apart and were not similar at all.
I enjoyed the fast life and living on the edge. Aleyah preferred her solitude and deep intellectual conversations that stimulated emotional responses. Her love language had always been expressing herself through words, and mine was expressing myself with my body. My sexuality. Some of my choices caused me to hurt her, really cause her a lot of pain and I pray daily that God softens her heart towards me. I allowed my selfishness to stop me from being there in her time of need, and now I was paying for it.
