Page 4 of Beautiful Noise
I laughed, tossing my head back so I was staring at the roof above me. “They do. They just don’t advertise them, Ma. There’s nothing sexy about a woman named Summer LoveCarteror Candy CaneWilliams. They’re doing what they have to do to secure the bag. You can’t be mad about that. Let those women live,” I argued amusedly in defense of the up and coming rappers and Instagram models I had been recently linked to.
“What they’re trying to do is secure your bank account. How about you make sure they don’t find a way toliveoff you?”
“Come on, Ma. I was raised by the smartest woman alive. There’s no way any of them are scamming me out of one penny. They know what it is.”
“And so do I. Just make sure you don’t get caught slipping.”
My smile resurfaced at her use of slang before I confirmed, “Never that.”
“Good, now unless you’d like to add to extremely long list of tasks you’ve already given me then I need to get in here and check on this house.”
“The list is not even that long,” I grumbled before speaking up to finish the thought. “Nah, you’re good. I appreciate you. Even though you called my living room furniture ugly. It cost me a grip.”
“I don’t care how much it costs. It’s boring and ugly. Every single piece you ordered is gray. Just bland. You should have gotten something with color instead. Yellow… Ohh, or maybe burnt orange. Yeah, that would be really nice.”
“Maybe for you but that’s not my style. What do I look like as a grown ass man with a yellow sofa?” I frowned hard at the thought.
“Then I’ll keep my thoughts to myself since clearly you don’t want them. I have to go. When are you going to be home?”
“A few hours but I have to stop by the studio to meet with Clay.”
“Well then, I’ll see you next week. After I leave your house, I have a flight to catch.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
My stomach growled at the missed opportunity. After being on the road for two months I was looking forward to a home cooked meal.
“To Belize. I told you that three times. Which further confirms you don’t listen to me.”
Damn, she did.
“I do listen, I just forget. But you’re gonna cook me something first, right? You can leave it at the house for me.”
When my mother laughed sarcastically and the line went quiet, I groaned, realizing she’d hung up, which meant I had to fend for myself with food but at least I could look forward to sleeping in my bed for the first time in two months. I would also be alone after being surrounded by a team, fans, and media twenty-four hours, seven days a week. That more than anything was what I was looking forward to.
Solitude!
CHAPTER THREE
Kori.
Cyan Indigo Bleu
I smiled when my pseudonym flashed across the screen in hues of translucent blue. It took me a solid month to build my site but every second was well worth the time spent.
The landing page was simply my name, Cyan Indigo Bleu, in a bold font. From there you could navigate to moods to find poetry that fit each of those respective moods. What I learned about feelings and emotions was sometimes you had to embrace them. Sitting in your emotional turmoil wasn’t always counterproductive. We often attempted to find a quick fix or solution for being sad, angry, or unappreciated.
There were times when it was necessary to settle into all thefeels, good or bad, to find understanding. Also, if you didn’t fully accept those emotions, you would cheat yourself with the ability to understand yourself and how you process. My site offered poetry that matched all feelings and emotions.
Today I was feeling grateful. My life was still chaotic. but at least for the weekend, I could relax and allow myself time to figure out what was next. Life didn’t stop, but I could breathe for the next seventy-two hours. Being on my own had taught me tobe a glass half full spirit and sometimes that was the only thing that kept me from completely losing my shit.
After navigating to my back office, to upload my latest creation, Still Standing, which I loaded in the inspiration room, I then moved onto my favorite and sometimes least favorite place. Reviews.
My site was linked to my social media page which currently had a little under half a million followers, which was still mind blowing because all I posted were my poems and random pictures that inspired me. I wasn’t an artist, or a lyricist, but all these people embraced my words. It felt good and I appreciated each and every one.
Katy: I think I’ve read “Hard Lines” at least a million times. I know it line for line, word for word. It helped me make the decision to leave my ex. It’s in my head when I consider opening up to give someone a chance to hold my heart in their hands. You’re amazing and if no one ever tells you, just know that you are.
“Hard Lines” was a poem I’d written after a tough break up in college my sophomore year. My boyfriend at the time was selfish. I was young and accepted his selfishness because what little he gave me made me feel loved, seen, and relevant. There was so much I didn’t know about myself back then, but I learned that there were hard lines to what I would give of myself.