Page 3 of Never Want to Love Again

“No problem. If you want to pay me back, let me send those crumb snatchers with you.” We chuckled together.

“Yeah, right. You and Asia would cry as soon as they leave,” I joked.

Shamar rubbed his head and replied, “Shiiiiid.” We laughed again. “But nah, sis…Let us know when you make it to Heartville. You didn’t do anything but give us a reason to visit that expensive town.”

Heartville was expensive and full of celebrities. I hoped I would fit in.

“I will, Shamar, and y’all come visit me anytime. The kids would love it. So much to do.”

We hugged once more, and with my Jeep packed as if I lived in it, I hopped in, honked my horn at Shamar, and drove off. My eyes misted. It was bittersweet, but I was sure this was what I needed for peace of mind. I was ready to decorate my place and make it myown. A man was the furthest thing from my mind. At that point, I never wanted to love again.

With a glass of wine, I gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling windows of my condo. The place I stayed with Shawn was nice, but this condo was stunning. It was luxurious, cozy, and warm. I was paying a pretty penny for it, but I decided I wouldn't settle for anything less than I deserved. Tonight, I was sleeping on an air mattress, which didn't bother me. Furniture shopping is on my to-do list for tomorrow, and I planned on getting an early start because I wanted to get ahead on my workload for the week. My job kept me busy, and I almost blamed Shawn and my hectic schedules for his infidelity, but that thought quickly disappeared from my mind. A cheater cheats because they choose to.

Raising my glass toward the city lights, I quietly cheered for new beginnings.

crown heart

. . .

“Run that back,”I told Taylo, the producer. I bobbed my head to the beat.

I’ve been in the studio for hours, knocking down song after song. When I was in my zone, I was in it. With my cup of lean and a blunt, I poured my heart into my music. It was just me, Taylo, and my manager, Trae. One thing I passed on was a studio full of bitches. I didn’t care for that shit. Anything that would distract me, I didn’t need while working on my craft.

Peering down at my notebook, I rapped the words I’d written from the dome to the hard beat. Hard as in that shit was some fire. Anything Taylo put together for any musician he worked with went viral and did well number-wise. He was the only producer I fucked with.

Trae’s ass was dancing to the beat, rolling his arms in a circle with a blunt dangling between his lips. He was feeling this song. I met Traevious Hamilton a few years ago in the hood. He heard me playfully rapping- a time when I didn’t take the shit seriously- and hetoldme that he was going to take me far. I didn’t believe it when he said that. In fact, I cackled and waved him off. He wasn’t from Dreamville. Trae was visiting his cousin,Anthony Drake, who we call AD, and just happened to be outside shooting the breeze with a female when he heard me rapping my own lyrics to an old Future song. AD was now my security; he was a big nigga who took his role seriously. As he should, since I paid him handsomely to keep me from getting attacked by the female fans every time I stepped out anywhere, like restaurants and the mall.

I was a celebrity out of the grittiest city who hadn’t forgotten where I came from, but once I had the bread, I moved to Heartville. If I had remained in Dreamville, who knows if I would’ve made it out. A lot of niggas didn’t. They were either in prison or dead. I made it out for my family. I retired my parents, who lived their best lives on my dime. They deserved it. Both had worked two jobs to get by. I was the only child. They miscarried a few years after I was born and never tried again, so it was all on me when it came to those two.

“That’s some fire!” Trae hollered, waving his arms in the air. “Wait till the radio get a hold of this shit!”

A few more hours in the studio, and I was done. I’d wrapped my third album up, and Trae wanted to celebrate at the strip club. As my manager, you would think he was against that, but Trae was the turn-up king. It was two in the morning, and I wasn’t tired. Therefore, I was down for a lil’ celebration that consisted of ass and titties.

“I’ll meet you niggas there,” Taylo said, dapping me up.

AD was waiting outside, smoking a cigarette.

“We headed to the booty club,” Trae told him, rubbing his hands together.

None of us were married, but Trae and AD had girlfriends. Trae met his lady in the strip club. AD had a kid on the way. The way these niggas moved, you would think they were single. I remained single because I was cautious about their real motives. Some wanted to be with me for the limelight. They wanted me,but they also wanted to be seen. I preferred a lowkey woman who didn’t know who I was, but that was impossible. Everybody knew Crown Heart.

“We have Crown Heart in the building!” the DJ hollered when my entourage and I entered the large building. “You know he loves the thick bitches! Only the best for the hottest rapper on the charts right now! Let’s spin his hit single, All for Love!”

The beat dropped, and I rapped along while trekking to our section. Bottles were already sitting on ice, ready to be popped. Once I sat down, strippers flocked over with dollar signs in their eyes. When the song ended, another one of my joints began to play. I popped open a bottle of Ace of Spades and drank directly from the bottle. Usually, I didn’t get fucked up, but tonight I deserved that shit. I was out here doing what the fuck I was destined to do in life, set my family up real nice, and I stayed out of the way. When it was rap beef in the industry, it was always one-sided with me ‘cause I never entertained bullshit. Muthafuckas lived to get clout off my name when they shit wasn’t hittin’. I just never fed into it. It made a nigga go harder in the booth, though. It made a nigga feel like he was on top of the fuckin’ world. If a nigga wasn’t hatin’ on you, that meant you weren’t on your shit. I was on my shit.

A pretty thick black boned dancer approached me. I could see her ass from the front, and the shit was sitting up perfectly. She wore a hot pink see-through bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination. Given the scenery, I was here for it. I took another swig from the bottle and then placed it on the floor, and spread my legs some so the beauty could straddle me and do what shecame over to do. Her sleek, high ponytail swung as she climbed on my lap to give me a dance.

The DJ slowed it down on some Pretty Ricky shit, and the stripper gyrated in my lap, causing my dick to brick up underneath her. She bit down on her bottom lip and looked me in my eyes when she felt the shit. Too bad I wasn’t in the business of taking strippers home to fuck ‘em.

She stood and then sat back down on my lap, now with her back facing me. Leaning forward until her hands were on the floor, the stripper began twerking her ass. Her shaved pussy was peeking through the thin material.

“That ass fat!” Trae yelled over the music as he approached. He slapped the dancer on her ass and jiggled it.

I removed some hundreds from a rubber band. Slipping them under her bodysuit while she continued to shake her ass, I made the blue faces rain down on her. A few more strippers entered the section to entertain me and the guys. Despite being in relationships, Trae and AD couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Trae left to head to the back with one girl, and we all know what happens in the back when the bread is right. Anything goes.

All of this was fun and all when single, but at twenty-eight, I wanted that one woman to come home to after a long night in the studio, after a show, and take her on vacations. I had yet to encounter a woman I could see myself with in the long run. I didn’t care for the females in the industry. I could do with a regular ass chick who worked a nine-to-five if she had a good head on her shoulders and wasn’t with me for the fame and money. That was hard to come across these days. I wasn’t knocking a stripper’s hustle, but I wasn’t gon’ findherhere.

After a few hours and drained a couple of thousands, it was time to get the fuck out of there. With the album completed, I just wanted to take a few days to myself to rest. Always beingon the go takes a toll on me. I was rarely home and lived out of a suitcase going from hotel to hotel, city to city. The shit was draining, but doing what I loved and making money to be financially stable and not in the streets made it all worth it.

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