Page 34 of Free to Fall

“I been knowin since that game we went to last year in the luxury box,” Royal shrugged. “Then when ya’ll was at my crib afterwards, ya’ll was being too nice to each other.”

Zay added, “Egypt don’t play about you. And you damn sure don’t play about her. Ya’ll act like ya’ll the only ones get to clown each other. It was obvious.”

I nodded, suddenly relieved. “We just needed to keep it to ourselves for a while. Let it be whatever it was gon’ be. Without all the extra eyes.”

Brodie leaned in. “So, what is it now?”

“Real,” I said without hesitation. “It’s serious. I love her lil’ ugly ass. I ain’t never been this in it before. She got me.”

Royal whistled low. “Damn. Nas in love. Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

Creed clapped my shoulder. “Good for you, bro. You deserve that.”

“I’m tryna protect it,” I said quietly. “Protect her. She everything.”

The room fell quiet, the good kind. The kind where real shit got acknowledged. And in that moment, I realized I wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. I had my brothers behind me. And soon, the whole world would know who my woman was.

New York feltlike a different type of cold than L.A. It was sharp and bone-deep. The kind that made you tighten your coat and square your shoulders even if you were used to the wind. But Egypt didn’t flinch. She stepped out of the car like she was born in it. Like the chill bowed down to her.

I followed behind her as we climbed the steps into 30 Rock, security and Fallon’s team already waiting to escort us inside. She had on this long duster cardigan, heels clicking like power with every step. She didn’t have to try. She just was a star.

I’d seen her act. I’d seen her command a room without saying a word. But seeing her walk into this building, poised and locked in, knowing she was about to perform her own damn music, her words, her melody, her moment—it hit different.

The hallways were buzzing. Fallon’s people moved around like bees in a hive, headsets, schedules, voices on walkies. The sound of rehearsals floated from behind closed doors. Egypt didn’t even blink. She walked straight through it like she belonged there…because she did.

They took us backstage and led her toward the stage for soundcheck. She dropped her coat, revealing that black jumpsuit hugging her hips like they were painted on. Her curly hair was pinned up, but even half-done, she was fire.

I stayed tucked off to the side, lowkey, leaning against a wall while she tested mics and ran through her set with the house band. The first few notes ofNotice Mespilled into the emptyroom, smooth and haunting. She wasn’t even singing full out yet, but it still sent something crawling across my skin.

I pulled out my phone without even thinking. Snapped a picture of her standing there, eyes closed, hand on the mic like she was already performing for the world.

After soundcheck, she disappeared into glam, and I hung back, sipping bottled water and nodding off the occasional staffer who recognized me from my last fight promo. I didn’t want the spotlight. Not tonight. It was hers.

When she came back out, I had to catch my breath. Soft makeup. Curls half-up in a ponytail the other half cascading down her back. Lashes fluttering. Red lips parted. Diamond choker catching every light. She was something out of a goddamn dream.

She shot me a glance as she walked past, subtle as hell, but it was the kind of look that reminded me of what was waiting for me after the performance. I couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on my face. They called her to stage, and I followed behind the crew, slipping behind the curtain where the band was already in position. The room dimmed. The audience hushed. Her name echoed through the studio. And then, there she was, alone under the lights, owning every inch of that stage.

When the track kicked in, I felt it in my chest. Her voice was smooth and strong, sultry as hell but soaked in emotion. She wasn’t just singing that shit, she was testifying. Each lyric hit like a truth she’d been sitting on too long, like she was pouring her soul into the mic and making the audience carry it with her.

The way she moved, confident, graceful, sexy without even trying. The crowd was locked in, caught up in her vibe like I’d been from day one. And I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

I watched from behind the curtain, chest tight, heart thumping like I was the one under the lights. It was wild how proud I felt. How in love I was with a woman who didn’t evenneed me to shine, but somehow still made space for me in her orbit.

The interview after was quick. Fallon cracked jokes, asked her aboutThe Coven’sfinal season, and Egypt handled it like a pro. She was charismatic, always had a witty response which kept the audience—and me- laughing. She handled it like it was effortless.

Then he pivoted. “Your album’s on the way, right?” he asked. “This performance gave us feels. What’s the vibe? What should we expect?”

She leaned in, flashing that slow, knowing smile. “It’s personal. It’s grown. It’s love… but it’s complicated. It’s honest.”

Fallon blinked. “Whew. Okay. That sounds intense.”

She laughed. “Nah Jimmy, it’s just real.”

After the segment, she came off stage glowing. Not just from sweat or the lights—but from pride.

“You fuckin’ murdered that shit,” I said, pulling her into me.

She wrapped her arms around my waist, holding on like she never wanted to let go. She didn’t say anything, she just kissed me, right there backstage, where anybody could see. And I didn’t give a fuck.

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