KILLING ME SOFTLY….
☆ CHAPTER III: SESSION PT.1:
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☆TIME: 11:35 P.M.
☆LOCATION: EASTSIDE WEARHOUSE.
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# Y/N !
- I SAT BACK as the stage curtain closed. The bass bled through the walls again. Somebody outside yelled for another bottle. A stylist rushed past carrying a duffel bag bigger than she was. I looked toward the curtain he'd disappeared through. Cocky ass. A small laugh slipped out before I could stop it. He really thought another performance was finna change my mind. The blunt burned low between my fingers. I took one last pull before crushing the roach into the ashtray sitting on the coffee table.
The room vibrated. The DJ's voice echoed through the speakers. "ATLANTAAAAAA!" The crowd answered so loud, dust drifted from one of the steel beams overhead. Ja'Dore walked back through the curtains a second later, camera around her neck.
"You got your shots?" "Mhm." She flipped through a few pictures on the back of the camera. "These actually hard."
I leaned over just enough to look. Ony stood under red lights. Mic in one hand. Other hand pointed toward the crowd. Smoke wrapped around him like somebody planned the picture. "...Damn"
"I know." She grinned. "I snapped." She kept scrolling through the photos. Pictures of the crowd. Connie yelling at security. She rested the camera in her lap. "So..."
"What?" "You gone work with him?" I looked toward the curtain again. Outside, the DJ was introducing his last set. People started screaming before he even said ONY's name. "...Maybe." "Maybe?" "I ain't agreeing to shit yet," I say with a slight laugh. "Girl..."
"I'm saying..." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "He got something." She nodded.
"I seen that." "But..." I looked down at my hands. "He ain't there yet." Before Ja'Dore could answer, "ONYYYYYY!" The warehouse damn near blew up. She looked toward the curtain. "Shit..." I didn't answer. Instead... I just listened. Even without seeing him... I could tell exactly when he stepped back on stage. The crowd got louder. The beat dropped. His deep voice cut clean through the speakers. Confident but composed. Like this was exactly where he belonged. I closed my eyes for a second. This time...I wasn't listening like everybody else. I listened to the beat, the pockets he chose not to rap over, the pauses, the ad-libs. The way the instrumental carried him instead of challenging him.
Same world. Different song. I opened my eyes. "Yeah..." I muttered to myself. "He can do more than this." Ja'Dore looked over. "You say something?"
"Nah." I leaned back into the couch again. "Just thinking." The music carried through the walls for another fifteen minutes.
Every now and then the crowd erupted so loud the empty bottles rattled across the table. Then...Silence. Not real silence. Just enough to tell me the song ended. A second later—"MAKE SOME NOISE FOR ONYYYYYY!"
The warehouse erupted one last time. I heard footsteps. A lot of 'em. People talking over each other. Somebody laughing. The backstage curtain jerked open; Ony walked in first. Sweat clung to his forehead. His black tee was darker around the collar. A towel rested across the back of his neck while he pulled an in-ear monitor out with one hand. "Fuck..." He exhaled hard. "...Now I'm tired." Connie walked in behind him, already talking.
"I told you they was gon' lose they damn mind," Connie said, plopping himself down on the couch. "They almost ain't let me leave the stage."
"They still outside chanting yo' name." "I know." Ony laughed, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the cooler. The plastic cracked the second he twisted the cap off. He drank half of it without saying a word. Then...His eyes found mine. A slow grin pulled across his face, displaying the gold grill in his mouth. "So..." He screwed the cap back onto the bottle. "Change your mind?" I looked at him for a second before shaking my head. "Maybe." He laughed.
"Damn." I shrugged. "Don't look so disappointed." He leaned against the table, towel still hanging around his neck.
"You smiling more than you were thirty minutes ago." I blinked.
"...Was I?" I said, tilting my head to the side slightly with a light smile. He pointed at me.See." I rolled my eyes. "Don't start." Connie looked between us before laughing. "Bro..." He pointed at Ony. "You been trying to get this girl to smile all night"
"I did." Ony looked at me. A crooked grin spread across his face. "I got 2." I shook my head, fighting another smile. "Barely." He laughed. "Count it anyway." Connie looked between us and clapped his hands together. "So..." He pointed between the two of us. "Y'all finna work together or keep flirting in circles?"
"I wasn't flirting," I said. "I was," Ony answered without missing a beat. I looked over at him. "...You don't get tired?"
"Nah." Connie laughed. "Aight, enough." He pushed himself off the couch. "We still gotta load equipment." Ony looked at me.
"You got somewhere to be?" I checked the time on my phone. 11:47 P.M. "No." "My studio is twenty minutes from here." I raised an eyebrow. "You inviting me?" "I'm inviting the producer."
"And if the producer says no?" He shrugged. "Then I'll keep making comfortable music." A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "Damn." "There go smile number three," he said. I rolled my eyes. "You counting?" "I'm keeping score." Ja'Dore stood up, swinging her camera over her shoulder. "I can catch an Uber home if y'all finna work." I looked over at her. "You sure?"
"Mhm." She smiled. "I got enough pictures." Connie snapped his fingers. "Perfect." He looked at Ony. "I'll take care of all this." Then he looked at me. "You'll be good with him." Ony threw a towel at Connie. "Nigga why you say it like I'm dangerous?" " Connie laughed and shrugged his shoulders. The room slowly emptied. Artists filtered out. Promoters carried speakers past the door. Someone killed the backstage lights, leaving only the yellow lamp over the couch and the glow from the hallway. For the first time since I'd walked into the warehouse...It was quiet. Ony grabbed his keys off the table. "You ready?" I looked at him for a second. Then stood up. "...Lead the way."
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Bet." As soon as we stepped out the backstage door, the noise hit all over again. The hallway was worse than it had been earlier. Fans pressed against the barricades trying to peek backstage. Promoters rushed by carrying speakers. Somebody yelled for security. Another artist walked past with three people trailing behind him. The air smelled like sweat, smoke, and cheap liquor. “Aye, ONY!” “Bro! Good set!” “Lemme get a picture!” Before I could even figure out where the fuck I was supposed to walk, a warm hand wrapped around mine. “C’mon.” I looked down. “…Nigga.” He didn’t even look back. “If I let you walk by yourself, you gone get trampled.”
“I can walk.” “I know.” He said, shrugging as he pulled me through the crowd. “I just ain’t letting you.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see it. He laughed, weaving us through the crowd. He didn’t let go of my hand until a security guard pushed one of the exit doors open. The music sounded muffled behind the metal doors.
“…Damn.” He looked at our hands like he had just remembered. “My fault.” He let go. My fingers felt strangely empty.
I flexed my hand once before sliding it into my jacket pocket. “Mhm.” That crooked smile spread across his face again. “You ain’t tell me to let go.” I looked over at him. “Too late, you already did.”
He unlocked a black Jeep parked a few rows down, the headlights flashing twice. “After you.” I climbed in without a word. He shut my door before walking around to the driver’s side. The second the engine started, the radio started playing softly. “You hungry?” I buckled my seatbelt, settling back into the leather seat. "...A little."
"Bet." He nodded as he'd already made up his mind. "I know a spot." I glanced over at him. "You always decide where people eat?" "Nah." A grin pulled across his face as he backed out of the parking space. "Only the pretty producers." I looked out the windshield to hide the smile trying to creep onto my face. "...You recycle that line?"
He laughed. "Damn." "So that's a yes?" "I literally just made it up." “Mhm," I say, picking up my phone. "You don't believe me?" "I don't know you. I definitely don’t believe you.” He rested one hand on the steering wheel, looking over at me for half a second. "You gone, though."
"Gone what?" I look over, confused. "Know me." I raised an eyebrow. "We got a whole session ahead of us, baby." He said as he sped down the road, tatted arms peeking through as he switched lanes.
☆*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚☆
Felt like dropping this little gem for yall tn enjoyyyy!
NEXT CHAPTER: SESSION PT. 2 🎙️