Carmen Read online

She kept the blinds closed and the closed sign on the door.

  “Sister girl, sister girl, you have been eating hunnayyy,” Narie circled around her, taking her voluptuous frame in.

  “I know!” Carmen wanted to lose weight; she really did.

  “You got married…” she mentioned.

  Narie smiled brightly, “Yes!”

  She filled her in knowing her bestie had hella questions.

  “Sis, I woke up one day and was like this isn’t going anywhere. I looked over at SP and told myself that the relationship hadn’t changed. Girl not even a week later I met my husband. We dated for four months and went to the courthouse,” she beamed.

  “How do you feel?” Carmen didn’t used to believe in love at first sight but now she did. Nehemiah was love in the flesh.

  “I go to sleep and wake up on cloud nine.”

  Carmen knew exactly how she felt. She hugged her again, this time a little tighter.

  For the first time, she apologized for her sudden departure from life and her business. Carmen didn’t take into consideration the employees she left behind.

  “I am so sorry…for everything,” she admitted while weeping.

  Narie rubbed her back, “Your mom died, you lost your best friend. I would’ve done the same thing, Carm.”

  She was thankful for her honesty.

  “To be honest, you shutting The Showroom down was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. I finally stepped out on faith and launched my business; did it without…you…” she wanted to say so much more. Could’ve said more but was sure Carmen caught her drift.

  Narie had lived in her friend’s shadow for quite some time. She’d put her dreams on the back burner and helped Carmen flourish.

  It was done in love though.

  Pure committed support.

  We all had to serve a role in our friends’ lives and in good faith, they would do the same when it was your time to shine.

  And, it was to be done without a reminder, or an “all I’ve done with and for you,” mindset.

  Matthew 6 read, “What you do in secret God will reward.”

  Narie had been greatly rewarded for her faithfulness, loyalty and ultimately, her sacrifice to Carmen’s vision.

  All was well.

  Narie wiped Carmen’s tears away, “You’re back and better, that’s all that matters.”

  She shol’ was, “And is boo!”

  After they chopped it up, they got down to business. Narie reassured Carmen that there was still a demand for The Showroom. She also believed that New York was a perfect location to get things back popping.

  “Let me get going, I have so much to do before my flight.”

  She planned on having everything sent to her new residence in Manhattan. It was a two-bedroom condo with a study that she would use as her closet. Praying that things worked out with her son, the other room would be his. She wanted to live in Brooklyn so bad but needed to be near the madness of the city if she was serious about her business and brand.

  More than enough time had passed and Narie needed to open her store.

  “Girlll…how is Mahogany taking the news about her brother? Bih, I dropped my bagel when I saw that shit.”

  Carmen didn’t know what she was talking about. She barely kept up with the happenings on social media and she actually hung with the who’s who….in real life. Half of the reporting’s weren’t accurate anyway. Except when it came to Nia, for some reason them niggas always had the right tea. Nia hated it.

  “Huh?”

  Narie flipped her phone around and showed her the headline and pictures.

  She gasped loudly….

  “What in the…. wait…is that a—"

  Narie nodded her head, “Yes girl yes.”

  η

  Scandal was defined as an action or event regarded as morally or legally wrong and causing general public outrage.

  Genesis and his childish, simple-minded actions without much thought on who they would effect and what they would do to everyone. Mainly, his famous ass sister. He caused some major shit to go down and of course, his big sister was the one to blame. She was the public figure. It was her face plastered everywhere. Not his.

  Of course the screenshots of text messages, hotel receipts, and pictures of him being dressed in drag were shown after reporters, bloggers, and hosts made it clear that it was MAHOGANY’s brother and road manager.

  Everyone was attacking her in the comments on several platforms.

  It wasn’t fair.

  This was what made her consider retirement.

  This is when she wanted to say fuck everything and live happily ever after with her husband and kids.

  Her mother had been calling all day from prison.

  Mahogany told her brother, “Tell your mother that you want to be a bitch!”

  Porter admonished her almost immediately, “Babe!”

  She was tripping.

  Genesis had the stupidest look on his face. She wanted to slap the fuck out of him.

  Porter was standing right behind her, rubbing her shoulders. She jerked away, “I need a second.”

  She didn’t even smoke cigs but grabbed her brother’s pack off the table and stormed off towards the deck that was attached to their house.

  They’d recently had it renovated into an oasis.

  Artificial grass, palm trees, an orange sectional, fans and a television completed the look.

  Her children referred to it as, “Miami!”

  One of their favorite places to visit with their parents.

  Mahogany was adamant about her kids knowing she was from the South and the same with Paris, where their daddy was born.

  She lit the cigarette and blew it out instantly.

  She ended up flicking the shit over the ledge. What was she thinking?

  A blunt would suffice.

  The year was 2019, Genesis could be whoever he wanted to be.

  Mahogany was old-school.

  She didn’t understand. They were from the hood.

  The slums.

  He was raised in the projects.

  What had gotten into him?

  She blew out a breath of frustration. She had to keep her blood pressure at a stable rate. She couldn’t let this stress her out.

  “Your publicist… I can never think of her name but she’s on the way. She wants you to release a statement—"

  Mahogany didn’t even turn around to face her husband,

  “For what? What am I supposed to say? He’s not denying it, P.”

  He was calmer than she was. He kept a level-head at all times. Someone had to.

  “You’re raising your voice at me for what?” he asked her.

  She didn’t mean to. She was so freakin’ frustrated.

  “Why would he do this?” she panicked, suddenly.

  Porter stepped onto the deck and closed the door behind him.

  “Did you look at your brother? Did you really take a look at him? Without thinking of yourself or your career?”

  Her husband was years ahead of her. He was intellectual. He was wise.

  He often got her together, when needed be.

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He took a deep breath, “He’s ashamed. He’s embarrassed and he’s scared. You ridiculed him in front of everyone.”

  She disagreed with him there, “Everybody in here is family,” she corrected him.

  “No, I’m his brother in law, the chef, security and housekeepers aren’t his family. You are. You’re his big sister and instead of asking him was anything true you joined the party of every single human on social media.”

  Porter had to keep it real with her.

  She knew he was right.

  “Talk to him, before your media team even gets here. Have a conversation with him,” he suggested.

  She rolled her eyes, “Okay.”

  He kissed her forehead, “I’ll tell him to come out here.”

  “Roll me a blunt first, sh
it. I’m stressing,” she admitted.

  Porter shook his head, “What am I gon’ do with you?” she was his crazy wife who he loved more than anything in this world.

  Minutes later, as she listened to the bugs buzz, she tried to think if she could remember any signs of him being gay.

  Nothing that she could recall other than the one time Juice told her he was tired of seeing him come out of utility closets looking disgruntled.

  Mahogany assumed he was in there smoking since the arenas she’d normally performed at had strict rules on smoking.

  The door opened and closed, and she braced herself for a conversation she never thought she would have to have in a million years.

  His hands were stuffed into his pockets and she couldn’t help but to ask, “Are your toes polished?”

  He smacked his lips, “Why did I even come out here bruh?” he planned on telling her everything. He wanted to share his truth with his big sister. His reality. Genesis was tired of hiding.

  She turned back around and stared at her backyard. Sometimes, her life didn’t feel like it was really hers. This mansion was hers. Her kid’s college funds were handled. If they never wanted to work they wouldn’t have to. Although she and Porter were raising them the total opposite way. Hard work brought the rewards. She’d created a chore chart the other day and told them they would be getting an allowance from here on out. Mahogany wanted her children to remain grounded and humbled.

  “Damn, my bad. Okay come back, come back. I won’t say anything disrespectful to you anymore.”

  At least, she hoped that she didn’t. There was no telling what would come out of her mouth. It’d always been that way.

  Her brother was handsome in that Project Pat, hoe I’ll smack the fuck out of you kind of way.

  Him and gay in the same sentence baffled her mind.

  She’d read every story on him. Watched the video a million times, on mute and off mute. Her brother’s moans made her want to throw up the blueberry waffle and chicken sausage she’d had two days ago.

  Mahogany studied each screenshot, hoping that it was a lie.

  However, it wasn’t.

  “Can you at least look at me?” At the end of the day, he was still a man and wanted to be treated and viewed as one.

  Mahogany wanted to tell him, “I can’t look at you without judging you,” but she held onto her thoughts and landed her eyes back on his.

  “I don’t want to be a woman,” he concluded.

  Two minutes had passed before she asked him.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded his head, “The video you saw was real. I am gay. But I’m not trying to be a woman or no shit like that.”

  “How long have you been….?”

  Jesus, how did this come about?

  “I’ve always liked boys Mahogany. I just…we grew up in the hood I know it wasn’t okay.”

  “And now what?” she pressed since he stopped mid-sentence.

  “It’s different out here. It’s more welcomed and accepted. I felt like eventually it would come out and then I can be myself.”

  She willed herself to relax but was unsuccessful.

  “Wait, wait,” she began to pace the deck.

  “Are you telling me that you planned this?” she was about to slap the fuck out of him if so.

  He shook his head, “Nah. But I didn’t stop it either,” he was being honest.

  That had to count for something. Wrong.

  She pounced on him before even being able to process what’d he really just said to her.

  Porter and one of her security details ran outside and pulled her off him.

  Genesis had gotten in a few licks which P checked, “Aye, don’t put your hands on her no more!”

  “Look at my mouth!” he screamed as blood spewed from the corner of his lip.

  Porter looked at a furious Mahogany.

  “He planned this shit! He could have come to us.”

  She made sure she looked at him, “You could have told me. Wrote me a letter, sent me a text. Told P, or anything. Your motor mouth ass knows how to say anything else. What the fuck Genesis, how could you do this to me?” she was enraged.

  He was growing tired of the woe is me mentality.

  “Aye FUCK YOU! SERIOULY FUCK YOU! I DON’T WANT YOUR SUPPORT. I DON’T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY AND MOST IMPORTANTLY I DON’T NEED YOUR MONEY. I QUIT!” he was through with her.

  Coming out the closet was one thing.

  Coming out of the closet as a black man in the public eye was another.

  His sister hadn’t made this easy on him. In fact, she made it worse.

  Genesis wanted to be alone.

  He stormed off, ignoring Porter calling his name.

  P turned to Mahogany, “All you had to do was listen and nod your head,” he was disappointed in her.

  Being gay wasn’t a big deal to him but his wife was kicking it like the world was over.

  She loved her brother. It was nothing wrong with her being shocked. She wouldn’t apologize for that.

  “It won’t kill you to put your pride to the side…just once,” he used his finger and held up the number one.

  She wiped a lone tear away.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

  Porter saw the look in Genesis’s face. He could only pray that he would be open to hearing her out.

  “Your team is here. They’re in your office waiting on you. I’m going to put the kids to bed then take a shower.”

  She dished out a lot of money to keep her image in tip-top shape, her reputation too. The story of her brother coming out of the closet…literally, would be blown over in a few days and the world would be dragging someone else. It’s how things worked in the celebrity realm.

  Her priority and focus should be the one person who probably wouldn’t forget any of this and that was her brother.

  Thirteen

  On a scale of one to ten… Elle Varner

  Neezy didn’t check on his mother as much as he probably should. He knew his big brother was looking down from Heaven and shaking his head.

  “Do better lil’ nigga,” it was as if he could hear him scolding him loud and clear him as he got back in his whip.

  The main reason as to why he didn’t was because she didn’t remember him.

  It took a huge toll on his mental. He took a deep breath and told himself not to let it get to him but fuck…

  He sat back in the driver’s chair and sighed.

  She was still so freakin’ amazing. His mother’s voice soothed his raging heart. He spent a few hours with her, and she seemed delighted to have company. Although, she referred to him as her special friend.

  He knew his mom hadn’t gotten her socks knocked off in a second. He wondered was she lonely.

  Had she ever experienced real love? For as long as he knew she’d been a single, working mother. A black woman that loved the Arts. A black woman that was the oddball in her family.

  She was often misunderstood because she didn’t fit into the norm.

  His mom knew how to play the piano and violin.

  Her parents…Nehemiah’s grandparents used to always claim that they didn’t know where she picked up the talent from.

  Neezy often wondered why did it matter so much. Why not just love and embrace your child anyway?

  He had a love-hate relationship with his grandparents growing up.

  During his younger years, he could never figure out if they loved his momma or not. And, if they didn’t, why did his momma send them to Atlanta every summer?

  She claimed it was to keep them out of trouble which backfired on her because it was her own brother that introduced Money to the streets and gave him the damn moniker.

  She was pissed when she found out Money was selling weed. From weed he went to pills, after he took over the pill game, he got his hands on pure cocaine.

  His brother was considered a Kingpin before the age of twenty-five.

  He tried to dust the pain off h
is shoulders but struggled tremendously.

  The sun was going back into its resting place and he couldn’t pull off from the senior residence where his mommy lived.

  The visit went better than the last one. During his time with her she asked him did he know her son and his smile heightened instantly.

  It had been awhile since he’d seen her…being that he was in prison.

  “His name is well…if you know him you’ll know him by Money. I hate that nickname, but he loves it. Do you know my boy?”

  Nehemiah had to save face because his precious mother wasn’t to blame for his distant memory.

  The dementia had hit her at an early age.

  Apparently, it ran on her father’s side deep.

  His mother’s dementia was progressive.

  He nodded his head, “Yeah, I know ole Money.”

  She was at the funeral and clearly, didn’t remember that they’d buried her first born almost seven years ago.

  Nehemiah knew to not take it personal, well, he tried his hardest not to.

  His emotions got the best of him for the rest of the day.

  The only place he knew where he would find temporary relief…an escape of some sort was the studio.

  He asked Munch to teach him the ropes. A basic how-to; simply because he was tired of having to wait around on someone to let him in the studio, record and engineer his tracks.

  To keep things organic, he rather record when it was fresh on his dome and most importantly, his heart.

  The professionals could polish everything up later.

  He dimmed the lights, burned some sage and lit a few candles around the room. Setting an atmosphere that he could become comfortable and vulnerable in.

  After dragging a bar stool into the booth with him, he closed the door and sparked up a blunt.

  Nehemiah inhaled and exhaled the smoke, repeating the motion until he felt his muscles loosening and his worries leaving his mind. He’d reached a height that he enjoyed. Being high was his hobby.

  What could affect you under the influence? Not much.

  There was no beat heard, yet, he’d imagined a melody.

  He hummed into the microphone, “La la la la…”

  “Dear Mama,” his raspy voice spoke into the microphone.

  He cackled coolly, “I’m feeling real groovy.”