EJShaun.com

Jamal pulled into an alleyway behind an old warehouse. The power lines sagged between buildings. Many of the windows were broken or boarded up. Graffiti covered the walls and local billboards. The apartment complex across the alley appeared just as rundown. The brick crumbled in a few corners.

They parked in a spot along the side of the warehouse. The sign on the wall read, “Management Only.” It hung upside-down, dangling by a bolt.

Kelvin pressed his face into the window. “Where are we?”

Aliyah smirked. “You’ll see.”

After they climbed out, one of the warehouse doors opened in the back. The sound of the metal latch echoed through the alley. Everybody turned.

A dark woman stepped out to greet them. The gravel crinkled under her combat boots. In the sun, her hair scintillated. The tightly braided rows caught the light like jewelry.

“What up, what up?” Aja hollered.

Kelvin’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? Are we at Aja’s studio? Like, her super-secret one?”

Aliyah tapped her nose. “You got it.”

The boy squealed. He shoved his fist in his mouth to muffle it. He had to remind himself not to freak, whispering it into his hand.

“Don’t freak.”

She overheard and bumped into him. “Oh, I won’t.”

She couldn’t resist teasing him sometimes. She loved how easily he blushed. He always put his hand up to hide himself. His boyish grin gave her butterflies.

It was funny to her. He got so embarrassed about his fandom, yet he never shied away from it. If it involved her, he didn’t even try to front, especially when he rapped.

In that moment, her heart dropped. Suddenly her surprise seemed like a bad idea. She was so excited to bring him to Aja’s studio she forgot why he was a fan in the first place. She knew he loved her music, but with how he was introduced to it, she worried she wasn’t seeing his excitement. She was seeing his ex’s. Would today be about them, or in the back of his mind, would he only be thinking about her?

“You spoil me,” he said, peeking through his fingers.

“Maybe a bit.”

She grabbed his hand before he put it down. Their fingers interlaced naturally. His grip was strong yet gentle. And a little clammy.

“Should we go in?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Lead the way, Babe—” he stammered, “I mean, Boss.”

Her doubt fell away after that. She could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t thinking about anybody but her.

Inside the building, a strip of carpet led them to Aja’s studio. Steel doors lined one wall. Each included a robust handle with a keycard entry. Her record label owned that section of the warehouse. The rest belonged to a community college. The school remodeled the space into an art gallery. Students set out tables and wall dividers to showcase their work. Tarps covered a few pieces. Overhead, the sunlight streaked through the windows, shimmering off the dust in the air.

Aja’s studio was in the back. A layer of soundproofing made the outside completely silent. She bumped her hip into the card-reader to unlock it. The system chimed in response, unlatching like a vault. Her music burst through the door as she opened it.

A dim light welcomed them inside. The ceiling was patterned with LEDs that glowed a faint hue of violet. An acoustic wall split the room into two parts. A large viewing window saw into the booth. The equipment along the back reflected in the glass. The signals blinked and flickered with a soft brilliance.

Kelvin froze in awe. Aliyah had to tug on his arm to pull him inside.

Aja introduced everybody. Her producer worked at the soundboard and waved without looking over. Several bracelets adorned her wrists. Her nails were long and painted bright red. She wrapped her hair under a satin scarf that matched. She sat in her chair sideways and wore her headset crooked. The monitors shined on her delicate face.

Markus and Jamal joined Aja’s bodyguard in the lounge area. A few plush sofas furnished that half of the room. The big man raised a finger when she introduced him. They didn’t know each other personally. He came with the producer. He rested his head against the wall afterward. His bushy hair acted like a pillow. He was as bulky as Markus but as rounded as Jamal. The three men took up four spots.

Aja slapped Kelvin in the arm. “Hey, you wanna mess around a little?” She nodded to the booth. “Help me warm up?”

He pulled back like she said something wrong. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” She pushed him. “Come on, Stalker, let’s see what you got.”

Aliyah laughed. Aja called him Stalker at home, too. Tiffany hated it.

Her butterflies returned as she saw him smile. He must’ve liked the pet name. The boy had the cutest dimples.