Four

Xeno

When Thine Eyes Doth Decieveth Thee

When I pulled the tiny ear bud out of my ear, essentially cutting the music off, I screamed my thanks into the mic, yelled, "I love y'all!" and then I stood and walked off stage. The deafening screams made my ears ring, but I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. As I moved beyond the thick, dark curtain, and entered the deceptively expansive space that made up the backstage area, I grabbed a towel from a dude who worked for the venue, found a wall, and put my back on it, sliding down into a crouch and resting my head on my folded arms.

I'd never seen anything like I had tonight. The room was packed so tightly that Xavier said security had to stop letting people in. I'd called for them to turn the house lights up just before I did my closing freestyle, and when I was finally able to see all of those faces staring up at me, the sight made my chest and throat tight.

"Yo, you good?"

Using my towel to swipe at my face, I looked up to see my brother standing over me, concern clouding his usually bubbly features. Nodding, I grabbed his outstretched hand and let him pull me up. Instead of letting go and squeezing my shoulder, he wrapped me into a tight hug. Unable to explain even to myself why I was overcome with emotion that made me want to burst into tears, I clutched him, hanging on like my life depended on it. Seeming to understand, Xavier held me tightly without demanding a word from me for several moments. When I started to pull away, he gripped me tighter.

Pounding on my back, he whispered in my ear, his voice emphatic and emotional, "Remember this moment, No. This shit seems big—and it is—but this is the moment when everything changes for you. Six months from now, those fifteen hundred people out there will be minuscule compared to the crowds you'll be pulling in." He pulled back and caught my eyes, not even flinching at the tears that ran down my cheeks. "You blowing up, nigga. Relish in this shit."

My laugh was wet as I nodded and once again wiped my face with my towel, this time using the corner to dab about my eyes. I followed him to a short flight of stairs and down a long hallway to my dressing room. Giving me dap, he left me alone to shower and decompress with a pre-rolled blunt. I smoked while I slowly undressed and fashioned my locs into a secured bun on the top of my head. When I emerged, feeling eminently better, I found him sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I exited the bathroom, a grin on his face.

"You good now?"

After that amazing show and that blunt I was more than good, so I chuckled and sat next to him on the couch, bending over to lace up a pair of classic chucks. "Yeah, nigga. I'm great."

He nodded. "Bet. Ole boy from Browntown is in the house."

Surprised, I glanced at him. "Oh, word?"

Xavier stood and went to the door, holding it open for me to walk through first before guiding me back up the stairs that led to the backstage area I'd just abandoned.

"You said you wanted a chance to speak to him if he came to another show, so when I spotted him out in the crowd when the house lights went up, I sent Lonnie to invite him backstage after the show. He said he had a couple of girls with him and asked if they could come too." Tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, Xavier smirked before adding, "I know we've been turning girls away for a lil minute or whatever, but I figured since you were out here crying about being single on the innanet, that it might be okay to bend the rules this time."

Shoving his shoulder from behind, I shook my head, unable to help the grin on my face. He hadn't let me live that shit down and apparently never would. It didn't matter if I tried to explain that it was the exhaustion of the day that made me do it, those seven words had given him fuel for a full week now.

"You're a damn fool, Zay."

But he was right about one thing. After that Plus radio interview aired, album sales weren't the only thing that grew. Two or three girls a week stopping by the studio was manageable; two or three girls a day was a nightmare. Especially since I knew they only wanted to get at me since I'd been name-dropped by a nigga with Grammys and millions and shit. So, yeah. I shut that shit down and extended it to my shows. No one who wasn't already pre-approved was allowed backstage.

Shad Morrison, a music journalist for the Browntown Weekly, didn't fall into that category. I'd never met him, but without a doubt he was one of my biggest supporters, and he was genuine about it. For the past four years he'd been writing unsolicited articles about my shows and talking me up big time, all without ever holding his hand out and asking for anything in return. It was true that sometimes the people who held you down the hardest were people you didn't even know. Shad was the proof of that, and I'd been trying to get a hold of him for a minute to express my gratitude, but we kept missing each other. I hadn't even known he'd be at tonight's show, but I was glad he was.

As I followed my brother to the open area left of the stage, I found myself getting a little giddy. I couldn't put my finger on it, but my gut told me that there was something important about finally meeting the man who was damn near my personal publicist. We rounded the corner and my eyes flickered around the space, noting that the crew was just about done breaking down the stage on my left and the small group of people standing on the right. The sole man stood talking to the three women, but stopped abruptly the moment he caught sight of us. His face lit up as our eyes met and seeing his excitement immediately put me at ease, a smile coming to my face.

"You must be Shad." I held a hand out and he slapped it. We linked fingers briefly and released with a snap. Yeah, I already felt real good about this. My daddy always told us you could tell a lot about a man by their handshake. Shad's handshake told me he was gonna be the homie.

"Yeah, I'm Shad. Xeno, man, I'm a huge fan. It's so good to meet you. Finally."

"Finally." There was a bit of awe in his voice that made my face heat. I could take praise from the average fan because it came with the territory and usually followed a similar pattern but hearing it from someone that I admired still took some getting used to. Shad was a master with his words and had won awards for his writing. His opinion held weight.

"Aye, man," I started, putting a little bass in my voice, enjoying how his brows rose in surprise. "Why didn't you let my people know you would be here tonight? The photographer wasn't out there, so I'm assuming the magazine didn't cover your tickets. I would have had some put up for you."

He waved me off. "Nah. I can't call myself a supporter if I'm not willing to pay to get into a show."

"I appreciate that man."

"And I appreciate you even offering that. Not everyone would."

Shrugging, I said, "Yeah, well, I'm not everyone."

He nodded. "You're right; you're better."

Grinning, my face heated and I shook my head. "Man, chill out with all of that."

Shad raised his eyebrows and looked from me to at Xavier. "She don't know?"

Xavier laughed. "Man, I be tryna tell her ole humble ass, but she don't get it yet. Eventually, she will though."

I wanted to ask what the fuck they were talking about but I was too mellowed out to press, so I said, "Nigga, shut up," to Xavier and rolled my eyes as he and Shad laughed.

Shad sobered first. "Listen, I know you're probably exhausted and want to make a move, so we'll get out of your hair."

My gaze flickered to the three women who stood behind him. Each of them seemed interested in our conversation, but one in particular—a cutie with thick, black hair twisted around her head regally, wearing a sleeveless crop-top that exposed her arms and the soft-looking skin of her thick waist—had her eyes trained on me. She looked like she was trying to figure something out. It wasn't good or bad but…contemplative. And while a look like that on the face of woman I didn't even know had started to annoy me lately, seeing it from her made me kind of…excited. This was a new feeling and I wanted to explore it.

Licking my lips, I smiled at Shad. "Don't be rude, man. Introduce me to your people." I could feel Xavier's questioning gaze on me and damn near hear him asking me what the hell was I doing, so I refused to even look his way, effectively ignoring him.

"Oh! Right, of course." Stepping to the side, he motioned for the women to step forward. "This is my lady, Aisha, my sister, Jade, and Jade's coworker, Trisha. These two are the best massage therapists in the city, so if you or your crew need a good rubdown after performing, or moving all of this equipment, you should definitely hit them up."

I addressed them all at the same time, sweeping my gaze over all three in a smooth arch. "Nice to meet y'all. Did y'all enjoy the show?"

"Oh my God, it was amazing!"

"That isn't a real question, it can't be."

"My mind is blown."

All three began speaking at once, and I laughed as I tried to respond to each of them but my words were getting jumbled because Shad's sister's coworker had scrambled my brain a little bit and all I wanted to say was her name on a constant loop.

Trisha.

She was a few inches shorter than my five-foot ten, and several inches wider than my naturally slender frame, with warm, russet-toned skin and big, expressive brown eyes. With gold accents woven into her hair and deep brown lipstick just a shade darker than what would be considered nude on her, she was cute. Really cute. And I couldn't stop staring at her.

"I could definitely use a massage. You got a card or something?" I was supposed to be speaking to both of them, but my eyes were glued to Trisha. She was so captivating that I couldn't look away, even at the risk of seeming rude to Shad's sister. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but shit, my heart was beating triple time and my gut was clenched. On top of that, my damn high was almost gone because I was hyper-focused on this woman that I'd just laid eyes on for the first time five minutes ago. Or maybe I was just really fucking high, because I could already picture myself posting her on my social media on Wednesday with a simple heart-eyed emoji and a three-letter hashtag as the caption.

Trisha chewed on the corner of her lip and I wanted to rub my thumb over the spot and tell her to stop it before she ruined her lipstick.

"Unfortunately," she began, her voice full of regret, "I don't have cards yet. I just moved out here like two weeks ago, so I haven't had a chance to get any made yet."

My brows rose, and even though I could have easily turned to Jade and asked her about a business card, since the two seemingly worked at the same place, I said, "Oh yeah? Where'd you move from?"

"Arkansas."

"The Natural State," I murmured, not sure where the fuck that random fact came from, but glad for it when her eyes lit with surprise, a small smile curving her plush lips as she nodded.

"That's right."

My fingers twitched and I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans, unintentionally pushing the material a few centimeters down my hips. I didn't miss the way her eyes flickered to my waist before finding my eyes again and I grinned. "What brought you to the Bayou City?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at me with an expression I didn't know how to read, but then she cleared her throat and said, "I needed to be somewhere more…tolerant."

My ears perked up at that and it felt like a code. Was she trying to tell me something? I hope so, because the last thing I wanted was to finally take an interest in someone only for her to turn out straight.

While talking to Trisha, everyone else had faded into the background until it felt like it was just the two of us standing here having a conversation. As I tried to think of a response to her answer, Jade looked between me and Trisha before reaching into her purse and pulling out a business card and ink pen. After scribbling something on the back of the card, she handed it to me. Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes from her coworker down to the scrap of cardstock in my hand while Jade spoke.

"We work at the same spa, and while Kneaded does accept walk-ins, appointments are the best way to guarantee that you see your preferred therapist."

At her inflection, I met her knowing gaze and quirked a brow. There was no guesswork necessary that time; Jade was definitely trying to tell me something. Glancing back at the card she'd handed me, I flipped it over to find Trisha's name scrolled in loopy cursive above a phone number that didn't match the one on the front of the card. Immediately, I once again looked up at Jade, and when our eyes met this time, she winked at me.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to use this." Slipping the card into my back pocket, I quickly covered my mouth as a large yawn overtook me. "Oh, shit. My bad y'all."

Shad shook his head. "Naw, you're good. On that note we will definitely be getting out of here. The show was dope as usual."

Nodding my thanks, I bid them goodbye and tried to stifle a second yawn. Once they were gone I rubbed a hand down my face and turned to my brother who wore a grin a mile wide on his face.

"Did I just witness a love connection?"

Rolling my eyes, I pushed past him to head back to my dressing room and collect my things so that I could go home. "Zay, shut up."