I’m gonna need y’all to get it together!
Signed,
Ya girl Denver
might have been
the biggest lie
ever invented!
A forty-two-minute ride
from the airport
was really code for:
Might as well take a two-hour NAP!
(A Suburb of Atlanta)
home to
Tyler Perry,
Ne-Yo,
Usher,
Whitney Houston,
Merc,
and now …
US!
In other words,
welcome to
Black Hollywood!
tips dipped
in 24-carat gold,
closed tight.
Stayed that way
till the voice
waiting on the
other side of that intercom
heard the driver say:
Denver Lee Lafleur
and Dalisay Gómez
have arrived for Mr. Ellis.
The buzzer rang,
gates opened,
chrome wheels
rolled against
smooth pavement,
snaked its way
past sky-kissing trees,
a pond filled with koi fish,
basketball court to the left,
tennis to the right,
me and Dali,
arms linked,
100 percent
GEEKING OUT
till we reached the front steps
of the biggest house I had ever
seen in all my life.
waited at the door for us,
my disappointment settling
that it wasn’t Merc.
She led us to a two-story foyer,
chandelier elevated,
each crystal
capturing a piece of the Earth’s sun.
Soon as she opened
those puckered hot-pink lips of hers,
the midnight of her words
swallowed daylight whole.
“I’ma need your phones, ladies.”
One hand out,
the other propped on her hip.
“What for?” Dali asked.
“Ain’t like we recording right now.”
“Yeah,” I said,
“we’re actually gonna
be staying up in this piece.
Can’t live without our phones.
How are we supposed to call our—”
But then the sun in our universe walked in,
muting all
my words.
Merc had that camcorder in his hand
finger pressing the record button in
3 … 2 …
“Welcome home, my stars!”
His voice echoed through the first floor.
Me and Dali squealed like schoolgirls,
ran to him
like a father gone
too long.
“How you like the crib?”
“Oh, it’s perfect!”
“Ditto what Dali said.”
“Wave to the camera, Say Say, baby gurl.
Do a little turn,
show ’em what you working with.
You too, Denver!
“Welcome to the journey of
my next multiplatinum artists,
Untouched!”
We waved and blew kisses
to imaginary fans.
Merc stopped recording
and handed the camcorder to Meat,
who secured it in that duffel bag.
“Now first order of business
I can’t have y’all
rocking these old-ass phones—”
Marissa cut Merc off.
“I told them to give ’em up—”
Merc raised one hand,
and like a soldier, homegirl stood at attention.
“Now, now,
I’ma have to ease them into this.
This is new territory for them.
See I’m ’bout to take y’all on a whole journey,
and for starters, I’ll need your complete attention.
“All work.
No distractions.”
Merc pulled out two boxes wrapped in
a pretty pink-and-silver bow.
We opened them
like two kids on Christmas day.
Two brand-new iPhones
for us to keep with us at all times,
which woulda been cool,
’cept they had
only one saved number (Merc’s),
no internet,
NO social media,
and a code
only he knew to unlock
it all when necessary.
“Come on, Merc! Why so extra?”
I couldn’t help it.
No matter how Dali looked at me
with those pleasebabyplease eyes.
The crease around
Merc’s mouth deepened.
“Never forget, baby gurl,
distractions breed failure.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Shoulders went in full slump mode.
I mean, I got it.
Didn’t mean I wanted to.
When it came to Merc’s plan
to get us to the top,
Dali and I agreed there’d be
no clapback,
no compromise,
just a nod
and a yes
to give in
to his
every demand—
no matter how bad
we I felt like popping off
at the mouth.
Because with an opportunity
of a lifetime
staring me in the face,
what other choice did I have?
Give up (and break my promise to Dali) …
or lean in? (and make my wildest dream a reality)
Uhhh-hmmm.
EXACTLY!
I may not have liked
that whole no-technology
caveman living,
but the next part
made up for it …
Sort of.
A walking tour through Merc’s castle,
just me and Merc,
while Marissa took Dali godknowswhere:
Indoor swimming pool
Gym
Sauna
A never-ending
freaking Wonderland …
Barbershop
Salon
And then,
upstairs,
a little big palace …
painted black
rhinestones scattered
to offset the darkness.
Windows dressed
in thick velvet curtains,
a bed fit for a queen
tucked in the
deepest corner of the room
A Gibson Montana Hummingbird
on top of the bed.
Next to the guitar, two journals
each one labeled: FOR YOU.
Inside inscribed:
A place to hold
lyrics waiting
to turn to gold.
Your biggest fan,
Merc
“Wow, thank you, Merc.
I can’t believe you got this for us.”
“Us? No. Just you.
This room and everything in it
is only for you.”
I looked around the large space,
feeling hella small.
“But what about Dali—”
Merc grabbed me by both hands.
“Baby gurl, you are a genius in the making.
I need you focused, separate. Say Say’s talented and all,
but you? You’re the real star. She’ll catch up …
eventually.”
I felt a burn incinerate my whole chest.
Was that a compliment?
But most of all … did I like it? (yes. wait,
no. right?)
Merc snapped his fingers.
“Enough about that! Take a look
around your master suite!”
In the hall, leading to
my bathroom,
a walk-in closet,
full of designer clothes,
(why did I even pack?)
shoes, jewelry,
everything I was gonna need.
A spa-like bathroom,
white marble soaking tub
to the right,
walk-in shower
with twelve jets
to the left.
And in the center of the floor,
a digital scale
staring back at me.
“Baby gurl
It’s not that you’re fat …
It’s not that you’re skinny …
It’s just that you’re …”
A lot?
Those last words didn’t come out of Merc’s mouth,
but I saw them in his eyes.
Once upon a time,
he called me strong.
“Don’t worry,
I got you a trainer
and errthang.
We gonna get you tight!”
Merc tapped
my shoulder,
turned his back,
and headed out of my suite.
Two feet,
quick step on the scale.
The numbers
flashed bold and blue
on the screen.
I folded myself
arms to gut,
caught up to Merc in the hall,
pressed down those feelings,
(of too muchness?)
whispered to myself …
Just a little off the top, right?
How hard can it be?
Speaking of feelings
Moving in with Merc
felt like
some kind of
reality show
where the most disciplined,
most focused
ended up the winner.
Grand prize!
Set for life!
Which wasn’t far off
from how things were
for the Lafleurs back home …
that whole #workhard #teamnosleep
philosophy instilled since birth.
So if hard work was what
it was gonna take
to make it to the top,
then that’s exactly what
I’d serve up.
Black girl:
mixed with grit,
stardust,
spice,
magic.
was on the opposite end of that
big ole castle of a house.
I would
tell you what it looked like
if only I was allowed in it.
we sat on plush sofa chairs,
in front of a huge bow window
overlooking peach trees.
An older lady,
dressed in a full-on maid uniform,
brought us glasses
of something bubbly.
“Thank you, Ms…. what’s your name?”
I asked, but she didn’t even
make eye contact, nor did she respond.
Just propped up the serving tray
and hurried back to the kitchen.
Well, alrighty, then.
Dali nudged me in my side.
“Show him, muchacha.”
I asked Merc
if I could use the internet,
like a goddamned kindergartner.
Marissa passed me a tablet,
I pulled up the link,
and handed it to Merc.
He squinted his eyes,
stretched the tablet back …
“Tell me what it says, Denver.”
The whole room
Merc
Meat
Marissa
Dali
went silent,
lips sealed,
eyes open,
ears tuned in
as I read
the fiery words
of that article Shak sent.
“Captive?” Merc said.
I couldn’t tell if
that was a question
or flame.
Merc couldn’t hold
it any longer.
Laughter poured out
like a rushing river,
lampshades trembled
with each stomp of his foot.
Meat and Marissa
joined in like a chorus.
“Baby gurl … Say Say …”
Merc hunched over,
drowning in his own laughter,
extended a finger.
“I’d like for you to meet M.”
Marissa waved at us,
a smile
big enough
to clear furniture
out the room.
(according to Marissa)
Does it look like I’m being held captive? Or a whole-ass woman with a job?
Never read (or believe) the media. It’s all FAKE NEWS.
My parents are batshit crazy, which is why I left in the first place.
And honestly,
I was so relieved
I coulda laughed and cried
at the same damn time.
But not Dali.
She had this look
painted on her face.
“So … you used to sing? Not anymore?”
Dali’s eyes shifted from Marissa to Merc,
lightning speed.
“Turns out it wasn’t meant to be.
Not everybody’s cut out for fame.
I’m good on the business end.”
Marissa winked at Merc, brushing her hand
on his knee.
“Well … you’re happy, right?”
Dali whispered, so soft
I almost missed it.
But Marissa bolted up from the sofa,
leaving Dali’s question
hovering in the air.
“Follow me, girls. Merc’s got something to show you.”
a crowd of cheering people shouted
soon as we reached the patio
decorated with
balloons,
streamers,
confetti,
cake,
presents,
the WORKS!
I scanned the faces
in the crowd,
most unfamiliar,
but some definitely not …
like
Lil’ Mega
and
DJ Syncere
and
every! single! member!
A party
of epic proportions
with the stars!
I ugly-cried,
Dali jump-hugging me,
eyes all glistening.
“You knew about this, Dali?
But my birthday isn’t until—”
“Tomorrow?” Merc said, hugging both of us,
Papa-bear style.
And for a moment,
I ached for family, for home,
until I remembered how empty it we were
for so long.
“Don’t worry, Denver, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
sipping champagne
with celebrities
to celebrate
the arrival,
the unfurling,
of
US,
the adulting
of
ME.
Fine cuisine,
hip-hop,
R&B,
OUR SONGS(!!!)
blasting,
me and Dali
losing our freaking minds!
Sun setting,
moon creeping,
mind made up
I was NEVER going back to Shohola,
drowned my whole self
in spirits of every color:
one shot
two shots
three shots
FLOOR!
Head spinning,
sun blinding,
pain building,
gut releasing,
every!
single!
thing!
my lips had touched
the night before.
(no monster period that time tho)
(and also … no Dali)
I tossed and turned,
in the dark,
loneliness and
dreams taking root.
I saw myself,
so clear,
two feet planted on the floor,
rushing out the door,
dashing down the hall
The walls were long
winding,
bending,
emotions sending
me on a
tailspin
I grasped at each doorknob,
door after door,
each one
locked, locked, locked
some more
It was too dark,
too quiet back in that massive suite
and I needed someone,
anyone,
a taste of home.
A ghost appeared
a transparent image
that morphed into
a mindfuck on repeat
First Ma
then Shak
then Gwen
then you, Papi
And finally, Dali,
playing hide-and-go-seek
as I chased her
to the farthest room
at the end of the hall
I placed my hand on the lever
and clicked it open
Candles lit,
a smoky stench,
ganja hovering
like a cloud,
two lovers intertwined,
completely unaware of my presence,
lips pressed into parts I’d yet explored.
It wasn’t Dali.
Nor Marissa.
Or Merc.
Or anyone I’d ever seen before.
One caught sight of me,
rapture on pause.
“Bounce yo!” someone shouted.
I turned on my heels, hauled ass,
landing smack-dab
against a giant teddy bear,
in human form
“What are you doing outta your room, Denver?”
Meat whispered,
his breath a combination of peppermint and heat.
“I … I … was looking for Dali.”
My voice cracked.
“Who was that back there?”
Meat placed his hand on my shoulder,
walking us both forward,
leaving my question unanswered.
We reached my door.
“Merc wants you focused, Denver.
So try and rest. He’s got a lotta
plans for you coming up. You’ll see him in a few days.”
“Days?” My throat felt raw.
“Where is he? Is Dali with him?
Answer me!”
But he didn’t.
He closed my door, locked it with a key, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”