The Art of Falling: The Prelude

Hollywood

“Yo,” Shameek answered, jogging up the steps of his apartment building. Because his afternoon meeting ran later than anticipated, he was dangerously close to being late for a drop-off but wanted to tell his girlfriend about the results of his night first. “What’s good, my boy?”

“You tell me, Hollywood,” his closest friend, Hendric, chuckled. “You’re the one who just left a meeting with B. Rich Records. How’d it go?”

Grinning, Shameek stopped just before he reached his door. “They offered me the deal.”

Even as the words left his mouth, Shameek couldn’t believe it. The head of one of the most prominent record labels in Brighton Heights had not only sought him out but also wanted to sign him.

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about, nigga!” Hendric cheered. “How much they saying you worth?”

“I’ma have a lawyer look over it to make sure I’m not getting fucked over, but I can’t lie; there were a lot of zeros on that paperwork, bruh.”

“Aye, if anyone deserves them, it’s you. You’ve been trying to get your foot in the rap game since we were in elementary school.”

“You think your pops knows someone who would be willing to look over the contract without charging an arm and a leg?”

“I’m sure he does. I’ll hit him up in the morning and let you know.”

“Bet.”

“I can’t believe you finally made this shit happen.”

“I know, right,” Shameek sighed. “I was this close to taking Amber’s advice and giving up,” he held up his thumb and forefinger, keeping a small amount of space between them—as though Hendric could see him.

“Listening to Amb was your first mistake. Considering taking her dumb-ass advice was the second. You know she doesn’t know her head from her ass.”

“Dric,” he sang warningly. “Relax.”

“Bro, I get it. You’ve been on her since the 9th grade. That doesn’t change the fact that she isn’t good for you.”

“You let me worry about my healthy relationship and you focus on whichever woman you plan on keeping for the week. If she lasts that long.”

“Aye, my resistance to monogamy ain’t got nothing to do with our conversation.”

“And neither does Amber.”

“Muthafucker, you’re the one who brought her up,” Hendric snorted. “But whatever. Stay in your little fantasy world. I’ll be here when reality hits, and you have to admit I’m right.”

“Don’t hold your breath waiting, nigga. I wouldn’t want you to die.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jackass. When you planning on telling Polo that you want out?”

“After I make tonight’s drop.”

“You need me to roll with you? You know how he gets.”

Frowning, Shameek fished his keys out of his pocket, fumbling to find the one that fit his lock. “I ain’t worried about that nigga. If I want out, then I’m getting out. Staying on the block was never the endgame.”

“We know that. But we’d also be stupid to underestimate Polo’s crazy ass. I just don’t want you caught up in some bullshit because he’s in his feelings over having to find another new distributor after just replacing one.”

“I can handle it, Dric.”

“Yeah, a’ight. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” Shameek replied, finally entering his home. “I’ll hit you when it’s done.”

“Bet.”

Shameek ended their call and quickly kicked off his shoes before trekking into the living room to find his girlfriend perched on the couch, furiously typing against her phone screen.

“Damn,” he said, raising an eyebrow when she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Who has you so pissed off?’

With a shake of her head, Amber tossed her phone aside. “No one. I'm just getting on Mari about some stupid shit she’s into behind a man,” she rolled her eyes, mentioning one of her friends.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, kissing her cheek before dropping beside her. “Typical.”

Amber playfully swatted his shoulder. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Anyway,” she adjusted her position so she was facing him. “What happened?”

Though he planned to tease her at least a little bit, Shameek couldn’t hide his excitement. “I got it. The label offered me the deal.”

Squealing, she threw her arms around his neck. “Congratulations! I can’t believe this!”

Her excitement was almost enough to make him forget how she’d constantly downed his goals, which made him question himself and his aspirations. It’d gotten to a point where Shameek felt no one but Hendric understood his love for music and desire to do something other than continue down the career path that would ultimately leave him dead or in prison.

Burying his face in Amber’s neck, he inhaled deeply, attempting to control his emotions. His father passed away when he was a kid, and since then, his life felt like nothing more than a constant cycle of watching his mother struggle. And when she found out what he was doing on the side to help ease her burden, she kicked him out, saying she refused to lose him the same way she’d lost his father.

Thankfully, he'd had Hendric's father to help keep him somewhat in line. He may not have been the best influence, but Hendric Sr. had a hell of a street reputation but used his experiences on the block to mold himself into a successful and legitimate businessman. He was the blueprint and Shameek wanted nothing more than to take all the knowledge he absorbed and use it to create an easy life with endless financial freedom.

Especially since he never planned on making a long-term career float from slanging drugs. It was a means to an end, something to keep him afloat until he could finally fulfill his dream of being a music artist—a dream that’d been long delayed. But, pending his contract was legit, it seemed that dream was finally coming to fruition, and he could begin to breathe easier and potentially fix his fragmented relationship with his mother.

“This is so exciting!” Pulling back, Amber cupped his face. “What's the next step? Where do we go from here?”

“Well,” he grabbed her hands and kissed them before standing. “My next step is to do this last drop tonight and then talk to Polo.”

“Wait,” Amber frowned. “You have a run tonight?”

“Yeah. Last-minute switch-up.”

“When did that happen?”

“This morning. Sevin and I flipped drops.”

He took note of Amber’s increased nervousness as she absorbed his words.

“You good?” he asked, watching her wring her hands.

She offered a grim smile. “Yeah. I just don’t know if you should concern yourself with something like this when you just got the opportunity of a lifetime. Maybe you shouldn’t go.”

“That would be suicide,” Shameek chuckled, kissing her temple. “I ain’t afraid of Polo, but I also don’t have a death wish. I’ll be back soon.”

“Meek, wait,” Amber called as he turned. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Can it wait? If I don’t head out now, I’ma be late.”

Licking her lips, Amber exhaled slowly. Climbing onto the couch knees first, she draped the upper half of her body across the back of it. “Sure. We can talk when you get back. I love you, Meek.”

Moving forward, Shameek pushed a hand through her hair, gripping it at the root to gingerly force back her head. “You sure everything is cool?”

“Yeah,” her mouth curved into a smile. “I’m good. Handle your business.”

“Cool,” he nodded, releasing her. “I love you too, Amb. I’ll see you soon.”

Pulling his shoes back on, Shameek left to meet the head of the crew he ran with to pick up the product he was supposed to deliver to a new distributor they'd just welcomed into their circle.

“What’s up, Young Blood?” Polo greeted when Shameek arrived in a decrepit, dimly-lit, abandoned parking lot.

“What’s up?”

“You know the plan, right?” he tossed him a duffle bag.

Popping his trunk, Shameek snorted. “I ain’t new to this.”

Leaning against his blacked-out SUV, Polo smirked. “But this distributor is new to us. That’s why we're taking this slow and easing them in.”

Slamming the trunk closed, he turned to Polo. “Something I should know?”

Polo’s smirk morphed into a grin. “Just being cautious, that’s all. You can’t trust a muthafucker who’s just getting their feet wet.”

“Cool. I’m out.”

“Aye,” Polo called, stopping Shameek before he fully entered the car. “I heard through the grapevine that congratulations are in order.”

Since he didn’t care to know how Polo found out what he had going on, Shameek didn’t bother with an inquiry. If anything, he was glad news of his pending record deal was already out in the open. “I’ll hit you when the job is done.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Without another word, Shameek climbed into his car and pulled off, ready to finish his job and head home. Between Amber’s fidgeting and Polo’s cockiness, there was now an eeriness about the night that Shameek couldn’t shake.

However, his phone vibrated before he could dwell on it, creating a needed distraction. Frowning at the unknown number, Shameek hit the green phone icon to answer. “Yo.”

“Hi, Shameek? This is Marisol, the head of marketing at B Rich Records. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, but my team is working on your credentials to design a marketing plan and noticed a serious lack of social media footprint. I was wonder if—”

The wailing of a siren, accompanied by flashing red and blue lights, drowned out whatever Marisol was saying and sent Shameek’s heart straight into his stomach.

“Shit,” he cursed, hanging up on her and pulling over to a well-light area and placing his hands on the steering wheel, praying it was nothing more than a routine traffic stop...