The Art of Falling | Szn 1, Episode Five

Apartment 430 | Shameek

“Shameek Black!” Gabriella called as he stepped out of the rideshare he’d taken to her parent’s home. It’d taken a few weeks to iron out his new steps in life, but with the help of his friends and Hendric’s father, Shameek finally secured an apartment in Blue Note Falls and had himself together enough to transition to the new city.

Although he hated taking up the time he could dedicate to returning to the music industry, he’d even secured a job to help him account for the money he’d earned from being in the streets. It was a setback, at least in his eyes, but he was determined to stay on the right path and avoid returning to prison by any means necessary.

“Shhh, man,” he pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing to the immaculate homes on each side of Gabriella’s childhood home. “You out here hollering like your neighbors ain’t bougie.”

“Whatever,” she waved him off before pulling him into a hug. “If they aren’t used to me by now, I don’t know what to tell them.”

“Yeah, they’re used to you,” he pointed out, hugging her tightly. “Not me.”

Pulling back, she punched his shoulder. “And whose fault is that? You were the one who got so wrapped up in Amber and your lil’ homeboy that you forgot about me.”

“Hold up,” one of Shameek’s eyebrows shot into the air. “If I recall, one of us was more wrapped up in my lil’ homeboy than the other.”

“Yeah, well, anyway,” Gabriella pushed a hand through her hair. “You want to speak to the parentals before we bounce?”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Shameek gripped the back of his neck. “Nah, I’ma pass.”

With her hands on her hips, Gabriella shot him a knowing look. “Meek.”

“Gabby.”

“Don’t do that. I know you have a spotty history, but my parents don’t view you any differently.”

“Yeah, right. Your father, the criminal attorney, won’t look at me sideways when I walk into his house a month removed from jail for selling drugs.”

“It’s not about where you’ve been, Shameek. It’s about where you’re going. And speaking of, have you reached out to your—”

“I’m sure I’m the last person my mama wants to hear from,” he interrupted, rolling his shoulders. “And she’s the last person I want to talk about, so can we drop it.”

“Fine,” Gabriella murmured, seemingly picking up on his stress. “I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you,” he replied, following when she turned to head for her car.

“Besides, we have other things to talk about. You remember Phoenix, the producer I told you about?”

“Yeah,” Shameek raised an eyebrow while climbing into the passenger seat. “What about him?”

“I told him you’d be in town soon, and he’s down for a consultation so you can get your foot back in the music game.”

“Gab, we both know I blew that.”

“Negro, please. I don’t know how or why you convinced yourself that a small bid has you ex-communicated from the music industry when most rappers lie about being thugs in the first place. At least your story will be valid.”

“Who said I wanted to tell my story?” he smirked as Gabriella pulled out of her family’s winding driveway.

“Me. You may think your opportunity is behind you, but I don’t think so.”

Shifting in his seat, Shameek studied her.

“What?” she grinned sheepishly, her cheeks red.

“You ain’t shit,” he chuckled.

“What did I do?” she feigned innocence.

“Try that innocent act with someone who doesn’t know you, Gabriella. Or should I say Gabriella Alvani, publicist to the stars? You ain’t slick. This is just as much of an opportunity for you as it is for me.”

“Are you suggesting that I may potentially benefit from rebranding your image and turning you into a star?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

“Well, I can’t argue with you when you’re right,” she shrugged. “But if it counts for anything, I also believe in you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he laughed.

There was a brief conversation pause as Gabriella chewed her bottom lip before saying, “Can I ask you something?”

“We’ve been cool long enough for you to ask me anything.”

“Yeah, but this is a touchy subject.”

“Ah, hell. Just rip the band-aid off.”

“Have you heard from Amber at all?”

Shameek’s jaw clenched as he firmly shook his head. “Nah. I ain’t looked for her, and she clearly ain’t looked for me.”

“That’s so fuckin’ weird for her to just up go missing like that.”

“I’m not even putting any energy into figuring out what Amb has going on. It’s clear she wasn’t the one for me, and I’m cool with that.”

“Is your heart still open to love, though?”

“Love is the last thing on my mind right now, Gab. I have to get my shit together before I can even think about that.”

“I feel it.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me what?”

“I mean, forewarn all your little niggas know your brother is moving into town. I’d hate to break a jaw or two because they want to act stupid.”

“Nah,” Gabriella sang, easing onto the interstate. “Work is my main focus. Niggas ain’t shit.”

“Damn, tell me how you really feel.”

“Well, you’re an exception,” she grinned. “But you’re also my brother, and I don’t engage in incest.”

“Gabriella shut the hell up,” he snickered.

“But enough about that,” she waved him off. “Let’s get back to Phoenix.”

***

“You made it?” Hendric asked as Shameek finally let himself into his apartment.

Hitching a ride with Gabriella may have seemed like a good idea at the time, but he hadn’t prepared himself to be dragged around town as she forced him to acquire what she deemed as the necessities for his apartment. After arriving in Blue Note Falls, he picked up his keys from his apartment complex and then endured being dragged to several major chain stores to spend more money than he would have.

“Yeah, finally,” he grumbled, dragging a few bags inside while cradling the bar-b-que plate he’d grabbed from Bar-B-Qutie. A place that was slowly becoming one of his favorites. “Remind me why I thought riding with Gabby was a good idea?”

“Nigga, I tried to tell you. You know she does the most.”

“Tell me about it. Everything is straight, though. And I have a meeting with the producer she linked me with tomorrow afternoon.”

“Bet. Well, I just wanted to check and make sure you were straight. I have a run to make, so I’ll get at you later.”

“Dric.”

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Meek. I’ll talk to you later.”

“A’ight, bruh.”

They ended their call, and after scarfing down his dinner, Shameek showered, ate, climbed into bed, and was nearly on the verge of passing out when music began blaring through the wall that connected his apartment to his neighbor’s.

Groaning, Shameek punched his pillow and climbed out of bed. Swiftly pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he stalked out of his room and to the front door. Storming out, he trekked next door to confront his neighbor and tell whoever it was to keep it down. Balling his fist, he banged it against the door to be heard over the noise of the music. The longer he waited, the more irritated he became until the door swung open, and all his negative feelings dissipated.

He’d been fully prepared for a confrontation. Shameek, however, hadn’t been prepared for how his entire being shifted when his eyes landed on the woman standing on the other side of the door.