“J. J., you can’t cut your hair. It’s your signature. Your brand.”
Joshua knew Brandon Giles, executive producer and owner of Platinum Beats Studio and his best friend since high school, was worried about his decision.
The two sat outside Rawl’s Barber Shop in Atlanta, Georgia, in Joshua’s black Navigator. The license plate said, JJ-LUV, his moniker in the music business. Joshua always stopped in for a line-up when he toured in town. Who knew a haircut would lead to an emergency meeting?
Joshua patted his signature, two-toned Mohawk. “I told you to call me Joshua and like I’ve told you before, it’s time for me to change my name and my look. JJ-LUV was cool when I was in my twenties. But I’m a grown man. This is played out.”
“You’ve got to keep it. It’s your strength. Keri Russell cut her hair and her career was never the same.”
Keri Russell, an actress on the popular 90’s drama Felicity, won a Golden Globe for her role and became a big star. Then she cut her signature mane. Her show ratings waned. Some argued it was the choppy storyline, but even executives wondered if her pixie cut ruined her career.
Joshua laughed. “I can’t believe you’re comparing me to Felicity. Warning: Your age is showing. That you even remember or know that is a flag for loser points.”
Brandon gave himself a pat on the shoulder. “I’m one of the top producers in the world, so nothing I do or say makes me a loser.” He gave Joshua a pointed stare. “You can’t do any wrong, either. After all these years, you’re still at the top of the charts. Everybody wants you to jump in on their single.”
Joshua rubbed his eyes. “Don’t you get tired of this? You’re forty-one and have never been married. Plus you have a bottom row of gold teeth you won’t change out.”
Brandon shrugged. “The honeys love it. And I’m not about to get married for another twenty years. There are too many women for me to attempt monogamy. Look at T.I. Everybody thought he and Tiny were forever.” He shook his head. “There are too many women after him for it to work.” His eyes got dreamy. “When I die, I’ll be surrounded by bottoms in my face and a bath full of liquor.”
Joshua glared. “Really? That’s how you want to go? Living a quote from ‘When I Die’? ”
How he wished words weren’t permanent. Joshua would forever be known as the man who wanted to spend his last days with “bottoms in my face and a bath full of liquor.”
Brandon shook his head. “There you go again. Ever since Zoya died, you’ve been in this slump.”
“Death makes you take a different look at your life,” Joshua said. “I’ll be forty next year. I’m ready to settle down. I look at my houses, my cars, the groupies, and all I see is vanity. It’s all vanity. Zoya was only nineteen and she’s gone. Her number one hits don’t mean anything six-feet-under. Her real legacy will be her altruism.”
Zoya Shue, known to the world simply as Zoya, had been on a flight to help start a school in Africa when birds flew into the wing, bringing down her private plane. None of the five passengers on board survived.
“Zoya’s death was a freak accident,” Brandon said. “You’ve got to get past that. I know she meant a lot to you, but there are others clamoring for your attention. Your baby face will keep you in the game for a long time.”
Joshua’s eyes grew misty. “She was my friend, my protégé, and I was so proud of her success. If she were alive, she would have become a legend.”
Zoya had also begun going to church. She had ministered to Joshua about a better path and had purchased him his first Bible. Zoya had been so full of joy. Joshua had craved for what she had.
News rags depicted Joshua and Zoya as lovers, which Brandon encouraged. It fed JJ-LUV’s bad boy image. But Joshua was tired of being viewed as the “bad boy of showbiz.” He wanted the world to see him as a man of character.
Joshua threw on his shades and opened the door.
Brandon followed and came to stand in front of him. “I think you need a party to lift your spirits. You’ve been in hiding long enough. It’s time for the bad boy to shine again. New Years is two weeks away, but we can start the fireworks before then. I’ve arranged for you to go to the Havana Club tonight.”
Joshua folded his arms. “I know you think this will help, but I’m not up to going anywhere.”
“This isn’t your friend talking. It’s your boss. I’ve already dropped word to the Paps you’ll be making an appearance.”
The men engaged in a stare-down.
Joshua shrugged. “Fine. What time should I be there?”
“A little after eleven. Maybe give an impromptu performance—one of the new tracks—but no fighting. I want the world to see you wedged between two buxom beauties, not bringing down more men with your fists.”
Joshua’s jaw clenched. “Those hood rats came after me because I wrote ‘The N Word.’”
“The N Word” had been his protest against black men calling each other that name. He had featured young, white people using it on black men in his video to prove a point, but Joshua had been called a sellout and a coon.
“I told you that was a bad idea,” Brandon said.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget it went platinum, and some college courses are using my lyrics.”
Brandon patted his pants pocket. “It did bring in that paper. So I guess it wasn’t that bad.” Her rubbed his chin. “Make sure you’re captured on camera drinking Golden Liquaz.”
“I haven’t had a drink in five years. You know that. I’m sick of playing drunk for the press. I don’t like what Golden Liquaz represents. What about the young men who look up to me?”
“Then pay back the three mill’ they paid. All you need is two more publicity shots and you’ll be done with them forever.”
Joshua sighed. “Just don’t book me for anything else without consulting me. I told you, I’m looking to break into movies or television as Joshua T. James.”
Brandon threw his head back and laughed. “Take my advice and stick to being JJ-LUV. It works. It sells. You can do movies as JJ-LUV. The Gangsta Hijacker wants you for the lead. Go for that. Stop trying to be Ice-T or LL Cool J, or should I say Tracy Marrow or Todd Smith?”
Jackson shoved his hands in his sweater pockets to keep from decking Brandon in the face. He walked to the entrance of the barbershop and then turned around. “Aren’t you coming in?”
Brandon shook his head. “I’m not going to be a witness to that catastrophe.” He gestured to the waiting SUV. “I’ve got an interview with Trend Up magazine. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Joshua entered the shop and waved at Hassan.
“Come on over, Lover Boy.”
Another one of his titles. Joshua held back a groan and ignored the jeers from the other patrons. The pen of his past would always be his present.
His entrance had already attracted attention. Cellphone video cameras were on standby. He squared his shoulders and disregarded the moving mini-screens. He plopped into the chair.
Hassan swung him around to face the mirror. Joshua studied his young face with tired eyes. He didn’t like his image. It was time to change that. A haircut didn’t change the man on the inside, but it was a start.
Joshua lifted his chin and spoke so everyone would hear. “Cut it off. Cut it all off.”
There was a gasp in the barbershop.
Hassan’s mouth dropped open. His eyes were wide. Holding up the clippers, he asked, “Are you sure? Because once I start, there’s no going back.”
Joshua nodded. That’s exactly what he wanted. He would accept the fallout. If he lost fans and endorsements because of a haircut, he would survive. If he didn’t earn another dollar after today, he still had enough to live on for five lifetimes. Joshua thought of all of this as the buzz from the clipper got close to his head.
He steeled himself, gripping the handle of the chair. His eight-inch coils had been his shield. After today, there was no more hiding. When the first inches of hair fell, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled. He anticipated getting to know Joshua and saying goodbye to JJ-LUV.