Page 23 of Beautiful Noise
“Yeah I do but seriously you can talk to me. No judgment.”
“You’re the last person I would spill my guts to and expect no judgment.”
“I don’t see why. To your point, I don’t like you and you don’t like me. If that is indeed the case, there’s not much either of us could say that would cause the possibility of you or me thinking less of one another to grow, right?”
I shifted uncomfortably, cutting into my steak and forcing a thin chunk into my mouth and he watched the entire thing. I wasn’t the only one enjoying lips tonight. Once I cleared my throat, his eyes found their way to mine before I made clear, “Idon’t give a damn about your judgment. No one is perfect. We all have things about us or in our lives that we’re not happy with. My situation is temporary and nothing I’m ashamed of.”
“Okay, so share.”
I held his stare for a long moment before lowering my eyes to shave off another slice of steak. Gwendolyn’s recipe was on point. I’d have to make sure I told her thank you,again,although she seemed all too eager to offer up any tidbit that would make her son happy.
“It’s nothing you’d be interested in. No, my parents didn’t choose drugs over me, and no, I didn’t fall into a relationship with a man who liked to use his hands instead of his words.Thoughhe did abuse my trust by sleeping with a lot of women I didn’t know about, some even in our bed.” I frowned hard, realizing I said that part out loud before continuing, “Anyway, there’s no heart tugging story to tell, sorry. I was raised in a two-parent home and they loved me, treated me well and supported my dreams, until my dreams no longer aligned with their ideals for who I should be. My dreams had basically been what they told me they should be. One day I realized I wanted more even if I didn’t have a damn clue whatmorewas. When I expressed this, they disapproved. I left and they sort of disowned me. I’ve struggled a little because surviving on your own with no support system is exhausting, and more importantly, expensive. My struggle is temporary. I’ll figure it out because even with the hardships it’s not enough for me to fold, run back to my parents with my tail tucked between my legs, and conform to a life that dims my light, just to appease them.”
He stared stoically, for what felt like an eternity, before he spoke up. “What about your dreams didn’t align with theirs?”
“They wanted me to be in education. It’s sort of their thing. A family legacy in a sense, in some weird ‘we want to be a prominent Black family’ way. I was raised to believe I wantedthe same. There was a time when I did. Went to college to be a professor and everything but a week before that was to become my life everything changed. I sank into a serious depression because I wasn’t happy. When you dread your future instead of looking forward to it, some serious evaluating has to take place. I just couldn’t live the life they created for me. I was handed an ultimatum.Theirdaughter was groomed to be who they wanted me to be, so I left.”
“Now it makes sense.”
Frowning, I lowered my hands, loosely gripping a fork and knife in each one. “What makes sense?”
“Why my mother is so drawn to you. Why you’re here.”
He went back to eating like he hadn’t just opened Pandora’s box and I reached across the island and tapped his plate with my fork.
“What’s the rest?”
“There is norest. I wanted answers, now I have them.”
“Well I don’t. Explain to me how you now have some profound understanding about why your mother isdrawnto me.”
He smirked, chuckling slowly again. “She sees herself in you.”
“She sees herself in me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
He lifted his wine glass. No matter how hard I tried, my attention was drawn to the way his lip rested on the rim of the glass before he drank, then said, “Not my story to tell. You’ll have to ask her.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yeah you’re definitely a college grad using words like insufferable.”
I arched my brow, peering at him across the island. “What happened to no judgment?”
“That’s not judgment. Only an observation.”
“Okay so you also graduated from college, Morehouse, if I’m not mistaken, and with honors. Bachelor of Arts in Music, yet youdon’tuse words like insufferable. Your observation is flawed.”
He chuckled, nodding again before saying, “What else do you know about me?”
“Huh?”
“In the studio you mentioned how many albums I’ve completed. You just mentioned where I went to college and that I graduated with honors. You know more about me than I know about you, which gives you the advantage.”
“I bet that’s grinding your gears,” I mumbled before clarifying, “The things I mentioned are random facts you’ve shared in interviews. Nothing anyone else wouldn’t know.”
“Anyone who follows my career, which you obviously do. I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. You’re good. No sense in pretending you’re not and I’m familiar with your career, yes, but I’m not a fan. At least not like the ones you’re used to.”