The Art of Falling | Szn 1, Episode Fourteen
New Beginnings | Shameek
“What’s up, bro?” Shameek’s voice broke through Kiyanne’s slumber, causing her to awaken with a start. “You calling from a regular number must mean you’re finally out of the joint.”
Shifting, Kiyanne flipped over, receiving a forehead kiss for her trouble as Shameek continued his conversation. “You been straight?”
She couldn’t make out the person’s voice on the other end of the phone, but Shameek’s smile forced one out of her. “That’s what’s up. One of my homegirls is putting together a showcase in Blue Note Falls to help new artists gain more traction. If you’re down, I can hit her up and see if she has another slot available. That is, if you’re still interested in pursuing music,” he paused and cupped Kiyanne’s cheek before continuing. “That’s what’s up. I’ll hit you up and let you know what she says.”
After another minute of finalizing details, he finally ended the call and directed all his attention to Kiyanne.
“My bad about that. Good morning, beautiful.”
“Let me find out you’re in my bed talking to your hoes first thing in the morning.”
“Now I know you heard me say bro when I answered the phone,” he chuckled, pulling her closer.
Kiyanne snorted. “That means absolutely nothing, bro is a universal term nowadays.”
“You know what, I can’t even argue with you on that one,” he smiled. “But nah, that was my boy Kellz. I met him when I was locked up. It’s nice to know you’re jealous, though.”
“Oh, please,” she tittered. “You think entirely too highly of yourself.”
Yawning, Shameek untangled his limbs from hers, leaving Kiyanne feeling unfulfilled and empty as soon as their physical contact severed.
“If I don’t, who else will?” he winked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “What you getting into today?”
“Um,” she sank her teeth into her lip. “Something I don’t want to speak on yet because I don’t want to jinx it. I’ll tell you about it if it goes well.”
Shameek raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound sketchy at all.”
Sitting up, Kiyanne pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Resting her head on her knees, she poked out her lower lip. “You don’t trust me?”
“Absolutely not,” he answered swiftly, making her laugh. “But if you’re done in time, you should stop by the studio today. I have a session before work. Gab has been on me about prepping for a single, and I was hoping you’d design the cover artwork for me.”
Her eyes widened. “You would trust me with something like that?”
“For sure. I want you to be a part of my new journey,” he replied, pulling on his pants.
“What kind of design do you want?”
“Whatever comes to mind when you hear the song. Put that expensive ass gift I bought you to use and get to work, shorty.” Hovering over the bed, he wrapped his hands around her ankles and pulled her to him. “And if I find out whatever you have going on today has anything to do with a nigga, I’m whooping his ass.”
Giggling, Kiyanne mushed his face. “Get away from me. I’ll see you later, psycho.”
***
Rocking from her heels to her toes, Kiyanne peered down the sidewalk, anxiously awaiting Lauren’s arrival. If she showed up. She was the most nervous she'd ever been and knew if she didn't have a familiar face to help her through her endeavor, she'd never push through it.
To her relief, she spied Lauren a few moments later, trekking to the café where Kiyanne asked her to meet.
“Hi,” she awkwardly waved as Lauren approached,
Stopping in her tracks, Lauren raised an eyebrow. “Um, who are you, and what have you done with Kiyanne? Because there’s nothing timid about the woman I know.”
“Well, the woman you know is way out of character right now,” she smiled. "Plus, you never texted back, so I didn't know whether or not you'd actually show."
Lauren’s eyes widened as she fished her phone out of her pocket. “I didn’t? ¡Ay, Dios! I forgot to hit send after I typed my reply.”
“It’s cool,” Kiyanne assured her before taking in a deep breath. "I need your help with something, and I'd prefer if we kept this on the low."
Lauren looked around before leaning closer. “Do you need help moving a body? Because I have a cousin who can make some things happen for forty bucks and a corona.”
“No, fool,” Kiyanne snickered. “It’s nothing like that. I found out this café was hosting a small art show in a couple of months, and I’ve been debating whether I should sign up. I figured if anyone would give me the push I need, no matter the direction, you would.”
“And you are one hundred percent correct,” Lauren grinned, shoving her hands into her pockets. “But my first question would be, what made you want to do this?”’
“I don’t know,” Kiyanne shrugged. “I think a lot of the feelings I’ve been struggling with lately are due to me never really having moved on from losing the last of the family I had left. I’ve been so stuck on losing what I had that I never took the time to build anything new. I keep all the important parts of me closeted, and that’s never going to change unless I change it. It might be a while before I can do that emotionally, but sharing my art won’t hurt, right?”
“I can see the vision,” Lauren nodded. “But I will say if you don’t think your skin is thick enough to handle people hating it, you may not be ready to share it with the world. A million people could love it, but if that one hateful naysayer will keep you up at night questioning yourself, take a little more time.”
“Trust me, I’ve thought about that a million times. But I never care about anyone else’s opinion at any other time. Why should this be any different?”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Truer words have never been spoken,” she replied, forcing a laugh from Kiyanne. “But if you’re sure, then I say go for it.”
“Good,” Kiyanne linked her arm through hers, turning to face the café. “Because I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out and actually put my name on the dotted line.”
“I got you, Chica. You just keep in mind that you asked for this accountability.”
“Oh Lord,” Kiyanne groaned, releasing Lauren to open the door. “Why do I already have the feeling that I’m going to regret this?”