The Tour. | +18 | BWWM

𝄞 14 | Cage Birds - Part 1

Thick fog in the late Sacramento night blanketed the parking lot. I could barely see an inch in front of my face. It was hazy, diffuse light in that way you step into another world. It had a ghostly glow. After the crash and burn performance, the after-party wasn't much of a party for me. But I do love the fog. The way the lights bounce off everything in that pretty eerie way is breathtaking. I lean next to the back door of the VIP section waiting the hours for the dawn so I could drive home. I've never stopped loving the Tule fog in Sacramento. Its fog is so dense that it settles on the ground and sticks. When I was a kid, my mom would wake up super early. She'd get everything ready as soon as the sun rose to drive my brother Maurice and me to school. Then on the way to school, my mom would pick up Zoey and her brother Noah. My mom had to drive slow because you can't go fast in that kind of fog. The best part about those early mornings was when she drove to school, she'd put on old-school R&B music. The kind of classic stuff that's got so much soul in the music it sticks to the bones. We'd sing along with the music and her voice it was magical. Ya, most folks hate the fog, but I love it.

Zoey stumbles into my back. "Hey, Sabali," she giggles drunkenly into my back. Her arms wrap around me without the hesitation she gets sometimes. Her uncertainty in touching me is more of that. I'm Bi, but I'm not coming on to you. It's a big fear of hers even though we've talked it out multiple times. But the hesitant affection from her continues unless she's drunk. It's one of those; I fear you think I am coming on to you. And since she's Bi, she gets it from all sides. That always makes me a little sad for Zo. Showing affection shouldn't need to feel like three-dimensional math. It's a no-man's-land for her. I still blame an ex-friend a long time ago for the problem. We were all young but shit stays with Zoey for so long. It still affects her to this day. How little things shape us sucks sometimes.

Zoey's long black hair comes forward into her face and she burps. The scent smelled like stale nachos and regret. Yep, she's good and drunk. She stumbles closer to me, her forehead pressed against my back.

"Sabali," Zoey asks?

"Yeah Zo?" I answer.

"We lost?"

"Yup."

"Where in last place?"

"Yup."

Last place out of two other teams doesn't mean we're kicked off. The prize at the end is a guaranteed contract for the winning team. A spot on a world tour for a paid gig would be out of reach normally for a small act with a small fanbase. A clean, clear shot in the music industry. And we have to sing all the way until the end. Even if we are so far behind in the contest, it's not theoretically possible to catch up. No matter how many rando thoughts I try to fill my mind with, I can't escape that empty feeling. The emptiness grows with every answer I give to Zo.

"B, was it my fault? We... didn't have any time..." Zoey whispers.

"No, I'm sorry," I sigh. "It was my fault," I admitted to my inner thoughts. Memories kept me from going to the after-party for the show. The foggy night stretches out the hours, remembering better times. "I pissed Paulie off and he took it out on both of us." It felt so good to come clean. I didn't even know my shoulders were tight, but I felt it when they loosen. "He told me to change my song style, and choice during the interview. But... I don't know..." Apart from me wanted to growl in frustration. "Paulie pissed me off, and I wanted to sing the things I wanted to sing. He didn't like what I was bringing to the table when it came down to it." Looking back, if I had known it wouldn't have just fucked over me, but Zo too. I wouldn't have hurt Zo that way. But Paulie is an ass if he didn't think I knew what he meant by too urban.

"Oh," she hiccuped. "Fuck Paulie." There's the Zoey I know she's ride or die.

"Yea, fuck Paulie, agreed." Zo giggles at my reply. My girl is sloppy, fucking drunk.