Page 12 of Disrespectfully, Relic
“Damn, why you giving us a hard time? I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this ain’t that,” Drish assured her, gaining a lethargic laugh in response. He brushed it off and expounded, “He’s here to offer you a job.”
“As what? A bottle girl or a waitress? Because I’ve done it all before, and like I said, I’m not interested. I make better money with my own hustles.”
“I’m sure you do,Saucy.” Relic spoke up, tossing out her street name to let her know, he’d done his homework. He leaned toward her and stressed, “You need to be more discreet with what you’re selling and your lil’ recreational habit. It ain’t a good look, baby.”
He removed his shades to point two fingers from his eyes to hers, knocking the combativeness out of her by putting her low-level dealing and drug usage on blast. The light remaining in her foggy eyes drained as he watched, knowing he’d hit her where it hurt without resorting to using his fists. He’d tried the cordial way by using Drish as a wingman, but his unconventional methods worked better.
“Let’s try this again,” he suggested. His authoritative tone and direct eye contact made her shrink further into her seat. “I’m Relic, and my assistant came across a video of you singing last week. She figured that you’d be a good addition to my label, and so do I.”
“You own a recording label? A real one that’s not in someone’s spare bedroom and has a budget for its artists.”
“Damn, right! He’s the real deal. Got his own studio and all that,” Drish hyped. “That’s where you need to be and not in this weak ass lounge.”
“I can take you there now if you’re up for it. My folks just touched down today, so I know one of them are there.” Relic roped her in with the offer of meeting his team. His fingers tapped at his screen as he added, “I know you’ve heard of Playa P and Big Tek.”
“Oh, shit! Saucy, do you know who he is?” Her homegirl suddenly gasped with a jump, almost knocking over their drinks as she nudged Sojourney’s shoulder.
“Obviously not, Mea.”
“Relic of Relic Records, right?” Mea confirmed, staring at him with star struck eyes.
She’d heard his name numerous times in videos of Pierre and Tekken—both of whom she followed religiously—but she’d been unsuccessful with finding any social media handles for him. He was even finer than she’d assumed. His clean look, and the authority he exuded, was exactly what she expected from a boss nigga of his caliber.
Of all the days to run into him, it was at the one place where Sojourney stole the spotlight with her vocals, even while looking a damn mess in a sweatsuit, sneakers, and hair that looked as if she’d rolled straight out of bed before arriving. Mea didn’t give a damn if she looked pressed interrupting their conversation.
“My brother was locked up with Playa P before. Ya boy tried to be my jail bae, but big bro wasn’t having that,” she boasted with a proud grin. Relic snorted a chuckle but checked Mea out on the sly.
Her pretty brown features, beat face, and small breasts peeking out of a leather jumpsuit made her the type he’d entertain on a slow day to wet his dick. Since she was his folk’s type too, he didn’t refute her claims about Pierre.
“I’ve heard a few songs from both artists, but I’m not big on social media. Mea knows more about them than I do,” Sojourney admitted, regaining his attention.
“I know Titan, too,” Mea butted in again, hoping to earn brownie points for not being as clueless as her girl. She snapped her fingers and confirmed, “So, you’re related to the one who owns the Haitian restaurant, too?”
“Goddamn! Stalk much,” Drish razzed, and her grin collapsed. “We get it, and if we need somebody to write the nigga’s bio, we’ll hit you up. Let your girl get a word in. You’re talking about bullshit, and this is ‘bout business.”
The sudden dismissal soured Mea’s expression before she glared at her friend, who pretended not to notice. Sojourney refused to fumble the opportunity that’d fallen into her lap because she’d done that once before.
“Y’all aren’t bullshitting me, are you?” She couldn’t hide the skepticism in her tone while brushing a hand up her sloppy top bun. Relic smirked and slipped on his shades.
“One thing I rarely do is play. One thing I never do is play about my money. My folks are at the studio, so what are we doing?”
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she weighed her options. Signing to a label, even a starter one, was better than what she’d done for the last four years with her boyfriend. Her talents were going to waste, right along with her life, while she followed behind the person who’d fucked up her world to begin with. Sojourney had nothing to lose.
“I’m down to check it out. I drove, so I’ll follow you there.” She conceded.
“Girl, you know Slim is going to spazz if he finds out you left with some random nigga,” Mea cautioned for personal gain. “You must be trying to get fucked up. I’ll go with you and say it was my idea.”
“Nah, you ain’t coming.”
Relic made that crystal clear while buttoning his coat in preparation of the chill outside. He was pushing it with one shiesty ass female in his presence; he didn’t need two.
Mea jerked back her head before mugging him. “Saucy isn’t going to a studio full of random niggas alone.”
“She is, and as her friend, you should have her back, right? Make up a fucking lie to tell her nigga, so she can handle her business. Saucy, follow me or stay. I’m not losing sleep, either way.”
Relic waltzed off without waiting for a response, certain that she’d follow him, even with her friend attempting to convince her otherwise in vain.
“Tail us to the studio in case that other bitch tries some slick shit,” he directed Drish, who saluted him and then exited first.
