Page 28 of Free to Fall

“Oh yeah?” Nate laughed menacingly. “Go ahead, lil’ bro, hit me. Let ‘em see who you really are.”

Reg stepped in between us; arm stretched across my chest. “Yo’, Nas, chill.”

Other trainers moved in too. A few of the other fighters started escorting Nate toward the door. “Don’t come back here,” I barked after him.

Nate twisted in their grip. “You can’t run from me forever! One of these days, you gon’ owe the wrong person and I ain’t gon’ be there to take the fall.” I stepped forward again, but Reg shoved me back. “Let his ass go, I’mma show you who big dawg.”

That only pissed me off more and it took five more people to hold me back from beating his ass. Nate was always the little- big bro. I was always taller, more solid and Nate was a solid dude. I was faster, and threw a bigger punch which he knew, but that never stopped him from trying me and tryna pull my hoe card. That hoe card refused to be pulled because I handled Nate, hand to hand, fist to fist and I knew that all 20 people in this gym wouldn’t keep us apart once we started.

“Get his ass outta here,” Reg said pointing to the door while barely holding on. “Nasseem, he ain’t worth it. Look at me…” my neck snapped in his direction. “He ain’t fuckin’ worth it. You got too much to lose and he ain’t got shit to lose, don’t let him win.”

Slowly, I backed up. Just watched as they barely carried my brother out of the gym. The door slammed shut behind Nate. The gym stayed silent for a moment before slowly returning to normal. Bags hitting, trainers shoutin’, music rising. But my heart was still jackhammering. My hands were still shaking. And my whole damn chest felt like it was about to crack open.

I went back to the locker room, stared at myself in the mirror, and tried to breathe. I wasn’t that dude anymore. I wasn’t that nigga from The Grove. I wasn’t seventeen and scared and angryand ready to die for nothin’. I was Nasseem Walker; top-ranked contender, a man building a future.

And if Nate wanted to pull me back into the fire? He was gonna learn real quick… I wasn’t burning for nobody.

9

EGYPT

Some endings don’t feel real ‘til they hit you in the chest. Today was one of them. The soundstage was dimly lit, the air thick with finality. The last scene ofThe Covenwas emotional but simple—just the three of us, walking down a shadowy hallway into a new beginning. It was poetic, metaphorical, bittersweet.

“And cut!” the director called; voice tight with emotion. “That’s a series wrap onThe Coven!”

At first, none of us moved. Me, Serenity, and Averi just stood there, frozen in our positions like time had paused. Then we looked at each other—and that’s when it hit. Full force. No warnings. Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw Averi already dabbing hers with the cuff of her sleeve, and Serenity breaking into a soft cry, biting her lip to keep from sobbing.

“I hate y’all,” I muttered with a laugh, my voice cracking.

“We were supposed to keep it together,” Averi sniffed, wiping at her nose.

“I wore waterproof mascara for nothing,” Serenity added, laughing through her tears.

We didn’t even say anything else. Just collapsed into each other’s arms—tight hugs, cheek kisses, hands in each other’shair. The bond was deeper than work. Deeper than fame. It was sisterhood, forged in 16-hour days, inside jokes, shared trailers, and shared grief.

We knew each other beforeThe Coven, but the show, It changed everything. It made us love each other more. We were women who’d shared success, failure, heartbreak, and healing. This wasn’t just goodbye to a set. It was goodbye to a chapter of our lives that made us better.

The crew clapped and cheered, camera ops and lighting techs jumping in for hugs and pictures, wardrobe tossing rose petals like confetti. The energy on set was heavy, but warm. We were all grieving something beautiful. And as sad as I was, I knew this was the step I needed to take. I had a new purpose now. A different stage calling my name.

I was barefootin the booth, curls clipped up, sweats low on my hips and a honey-colored filter of afternoon sun painting the studio floor. Terri was behind the board, her signature Bronx accent bouncing through the talkback mic.

“Aight, Egypt, let’s take that last verse again but ride the harmony softer this time, aight?”

“Bet,” I said, nodding, breath steady putting my headphones back on over my ears. I stepped back up to the mic just as the music started.

You say it in the way you breathe, not in the words you never say

And I reply with silence, 'cause I’m scared to feel the weight

But your hands on me say everything that your mouth can’t find

So we love between the lines, pretending we’re not crossing time

I was deep into a track calledUnspoken, soft percussion, thick harmonies, and lyrics that sat like secrets on the tongue. The song was for me. About him. About everything we never said out loud but always felt in silence.

When I came out of the booth, I grabbed my tea and dropped onto the couch, neck rolling like I just came out of hot yoga.

That’s when Logan walked in, all crisp black linen and Cartier frames. He flashed that grin that usually meant he was about to ask me for something or tell me he needed a favor with a camera involved. But this time, he actually looked excited for me.

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