Page 170 of Rah
MOSES
Muffled bass, chants, and that restless chaos of thousands of people waiting seeped through the dressing room walls of the arena.
I sat on the couch in front of the mirror with my elbows on my knees and heart beating uncontrollably. Tonight was my second time opening for Zay Savage for a sold-out crowd under arena lights.
Every time I thought about it, it still gave me an adrenaline rush that felt unreal.
The same dude that used to record tracks in Rah’s basement with a mic we stole, was opening up for one of the biggest trap stars in the world. Now I had a tour schedule, interviews, stylists, dancers, and a team. My blue check was official. “Songs of Moses” was charting locally. My second single, “Trap Psalms”, had become a hit.
Some blogger online had called my music “street gospel.” They said my voice sounded like the south side was confessingthrough me. I didn’t know if I believed all that, but it felt good to be heard.
Every time I hit a stage, or did an interview, or saw a fan damn near in tears just to meet me, I’d get that same thought:This can’t be real.
Eli popped his head in through the door. “Moses, you’re on in five minutes.”
“Okay. Give me one minute.”
“Oneminute,” he repeated before closing the door again.
Now that the stylist, makeup girl, and assistants were all gone, I leaned back on the couch, letting my head rest against the cushion, and closed my eyes.
Every show, I said the same quick prayer. I thanked God for bringing me this far, for giving me words that reached people, and for letting me live long enough to see this version of myself. I asked Him to keep me grounded and to let me move the crowd but never lose my soul in it.
Money was coming in faster than I ever imagined. In a matter of months, I’d touched more than I used to dream about. Whatever I wanted, I could buy three of them. Whatever Kahlani or Trent needed, they got it. Kahlani had a maid. Trent had a nanny.
And still, a part of me never stopped waiting for it all to be snatched away. A nigga like me, from where I’m from, doesn’t win without consequences. I knew that. So, every blessing came with a little fear attached.
The door opened again.
“Hey, babe!” Kahlani rushed in, interrupting my prayer. She looked so good. It wasn’t because of the Moschino dress that she was wearing, either. It wasn’t the diamonds that she was draped in, nor was it the expensive make up that the artist had applied on the private jet. And it had nothing to do with theexpensive hair she’d gotten installed. She looked so good because of the happiness that was all over her.
“You made it,” I said, standing to meet her halfway.
She exhaled. “Barely.”
Kissing her, I asked, “Where is Solae?”
“I told her that you wanted her to come, but of course she wasn’t about to leave her kids and Priest so soon.”
I nodded, with my arms still around her waist. “Understandable.”
“But she said she will be at a show as soon as she gets comfortable being back at home.”
“Bet. How is she doing?”
“Good.” Kahlani smiled. “She looks great and is happy to be home. And she’s pregnant!”
My eyes bucked with a smile. “Word?”
Just then, the door swung open again. Eli leaned in. “It’s time.”
I looked at him and nodded. “I’m ready.”
I took Kahlani’s hand and followed Eli down the long hallway toward the stage.
The closer we got, the louder it got. My name was echoing from the crowd. Thousands of voices chanted it, calling for me.
I had already said a prayer, but hearing my name on the lips of thousands of people, I had to stop and thank God that I had finally made it. After all of the pain, hurt, and mistakes, my girl was still by my side, and my dreams had finally come true.
