Page 5 of Verse Two
“You look damn good, Doll.”
My face heated at his words, and I sipped more of my drink to try to hide my blush.
“Thanks. So do you.”
His eyes fell from mine but were still on me. I frowned.
“What?” I asked, wondering what he was looking at.
“I still make you blush. I’m feelin’ that shit.”
I rolled my eyes, but I knew my cheeks were even redder at that point. His voice was everything.
“Tell me wassup wit’ you, though, Dy. What I miss?”
I laughed. “A lot. It’s been twelve years, Brick.”
He smiled. “I ain’t heard that name in a minute.”
“Good,” I replied before I could stop myself. When we were in school, everyone called himBrix. I always aimed to be different, and I liked my nickname better, anyway.
That made him laugh out loud, but instead of commenting on it, he addressed the other thing I said. “It has been a minute. But we’re here now, and I wanna know everything.”
With a sigh, I dove into my recent history, telling him the major life updates like going to college, moving to New York, and being the assistant to a famous pop star. As I spoke, he observed me intently. He nodded sporadically and made small comments, letting me know he was listening to every word I was saying. Once I felt like I had filled him in on all the important stuff, I shrugged.
“That’s about it. What about you?” I asked, holding my breath. What if his update included a girlfriend or fiancée? Would I care?
OfcourseI would.
He chuckled. “My life ain’t nearly as exciting as yours, Doll. I went to community college and got an associate’s degree, and I moved to Jai City about four years ago.”
He didn’t say anything else, so I frowned and kissed my teeth.
“Brick, please. You have on a ten-thousand-dollar watch and a thousand-dollar pair of shoes. Your sweatsuit is simple but expensive, and the Brick I know doesn’t do handouts, so I know you bought all this yourself. Your life isdefinitelymore than just a degree and relocation.”
Brixton had always been a modest guy, but his glow-up was major, and I wanted to know all about it so that I could celebrate with him.
Laughing, he nodded. “I’ve been doin’ aight for myself, I guess. A few years back, I wrote a song for one of my homies who could sing. He recorded it and that shit blew up, and once he made it, he let everybody know I gave him his first hit. It’s been up ever since,” he replied with a shrug.
“Wow,” I said. My voice was barely above a whisper because I felt a little choked up. Brick always had a way with words. His best friend, Marcellus—or Marc, as we called him—and I would tell him that he was supposed to rap or write books and thatit would be the thing to get us out of the hood, but he used to downplay his talent as just a hobby. I was so happy to hear that he had made a career out of using his gift.
“Who’s the homie that you wrote the first song for?” I asked.
“Cameron Ray.”
My eyes widened, and I slapped his arm.
“Are you kidding me? I love him!”
Cameron Ray was one of the best neo-soul artists out right now. Wilder and I saw him in concert after graduating from college, and I had been obsessed ever since.
“Chill. I’on consider myself a jealous man, but you tryin’ it right now,” Brick said, smirking.
I rolled my eyes. “I love hismusic, that’s all. Wait, . . . are you saying you wrote‘Sweetest Regret’?”
He nodded. “That was me.”
“Oh my God, that’s my favorite song in the world. Wait till I tell my best friend I know the writer,” I said, smiling widely. I continued with, “I’m so happy for you, Brick. I always thoughtyoushould be the one in the spotlight,butthe fact that you’ve found a way to share your gift with the world makes my heart smile.”
