On the Come Up(61)

He nods, as if that’s all he needs to know. “Well, they probably will make a lot of noise about the song. Folks love to blame hip-hop. Guess that’s easier than looking at the real problems, you know? Just think though, you in legendary company. They did it to N.W.A, they did it to Public Enemy. ’Pac. Kendrick. Shit, anybody who’s ever had something to say on the mic, they’ve come at them ’bout how they said it.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah. You young’uns just don’t know. N.W.A got letters from the FBI over ‘Fuck tha Police.’ Some boy shot a cop and had a ’Pac song playing in the car. Politicians blamed the song.”

“What the hell?”

“Exactly,” says Supreme. “This ain’t new. They love to make us the villains for telling the truth.” He sips his orange juice. “You need a real manager to make sure this doesn’t get outta control and that it works to your advantage.”

A real manager. The Aunt Pooh shade is obvious.

The bell on the restaurant door dings. Supreme raises his hand to catch the person’s attention.

Dee-Nice makes his way over. His gold chains are almost as long as his locs. He and Supreme slap palms and end it in a one-armed hug.

Supreme stretches his neck to look outside. “Okay, I see you with the Beamer.” He lightly elbows Dee-Nice, who laughs. “Already spending that money.”

“Had to show these boys how it’s done.” He looks at me. “The princess of the Garden. We finally meet. Nothing but props, love.” He gives me one of those palm slap/handshake things that guys sometimes do. “Between that first battle and the song? You killing it out here.”

Confession: I’m a little tongue-tied. Starstruck even. Dee-Nice is a legend. What the hell do you say if you get a stamp of approval from a legend?

“I still think it’s bullshit that you lost to Ef-X that time.”

He and Supreme both laugh. “What?” Dee-Nice says.

I studied battles way before I ever stepped foot in the Ring. “Two years ago, you and Ef-X battled,” I say. “Your flow was absolutely ridiculous. I’m still in awe that you came up with that rhyme scheme on the spot. You should’ve won, hands down.”

“Wow. I see you been paying attention.”

“An MC must be a student before they’re ever a master,” I say. “That’s what my aunt always—”

The Timbs. Dee-Nice showing up. This is a setup to get me away from Aunt Pooh.

See, the shoes are bait, like I’m one of those fat bass fish Granddaddy likes to catch in the summer and Dee-Nice is Supreme’s bobber. Having Dee-Nice talk to me will let Supreme know if I’m biting the bait or not.

But honestly? I swam into this water knowing I’d probably get caught. I knew what this meeting with Supreme was about the moment he texted me. Forget that even being here would hurt Aunt Pooh. Forget the fact that if I take his offer, it’ll mean I have to get rid of her. Forget that if she’s not my manager, she’ll probably stay in the streets. I came here anyway.

What kinda niece does that make me?

“Listen, your aunt sounds like cool people,” Supreme says. “But you need more.”

I bite my lip. “Supreme—”

“Hear me out,” he says. “Truth is, you’ve got a unique opportunity here, Bri. Situations like this, publicity like this, don’t come around often. You gotta take advantage of it. Dee didn’t have the buzz you’re getting. Look what I did for him. I also got a big deal in the works for my son . . . if he can keep his act straight.”

Dee-Nice laughs. There’s a joke I’m clearly missing here. “He still giving you problems?”

Supreme chugs back some orange juice. “He can’t focus worth a damn lately. But that’s a whole ’nother discussion for another day.”

Dee-Nice nods. “Straight up though, Bri? This guy here?” He points at Supreme. “Changed my life. I’m able to take care of my whole family now.”

“For real?”

“Oh yeah,” he says. “I was doing battles in the Ring, hoping it would lead to something someday, but my family was struggling. Supreme came along, set up a game plan, now my family ain’t gotta worry about a damn thing. We good.”

Good. One word, one syllable.

If I could, I’d give everything I should,

To make my family good.

I swallow the tightness in my throat and look at Supreme. “If I work with you, can you make sure my family is okay?”

“I’ll make sure you and your family are good,” he says. “You got my word.”

He holds his hand out to me.

It’s a betrayal to Aunt Pooh, but it’s a way for my mom and Trey. I shake her hand.

“We ’bout to get paid!” Supreme practically shouts. “You won’t regret this, baby girl, I swear you won’t. But first things first, I gotta come over and talk to your mom. The three of us gotta sit down and—”

If my life really was a sitcom, this is the moment where the record would scratch. “You, uhhh . . . you gotta talk to Jay?”

Supreme gives this kinda unsure laugh, as if he thinks he’s missing a joke. “Of course. Is there a problem?”

Too many problems to name. I scratch the back of my head. “That may not be a good idea right now.”