❛LISTEN TO IT.❜
━━ IMANI DEVAN.
/
COME & TALK TO ME | CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.
❝GOTTA LOVE MUSIC.❞
' NOV 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟐 '
[ NEW YORK, NEW YORK ]
Imani walked hand in hand with DeVanté as she led him through the slim narrow hallway that stretched through the studio. They'd made a stop back at the studio that Imani was at earlier and she didn't want to leave the in-producer waiting. The only thing that she'd told DeVanté was that she needed to head back to the studio and attempt to finish the song. Creating a song is a big process that most people don't understand. The amount of time, energy, and creativity that goes into creating one song is insane.
However, she soon led him to a door at the very end of the hall, quickly jiggling a key she managed to snag through the keyhole and craned it open. DeVanté followed in after her, squinting through the darkness as Imani attempted to find the light switch.
Once she finally found it, the now brightened room made her eyes blink rapidly before getting a clear view of the studio. "Welcome to my humble abode," Imani mused with a smile, gesturing towards the spacious, studio room that they were in. "The producer must've left."
DeVanté looked around, taking notice of some of her things that resided by the soundboard as well as the endless amounts of paper that lingered in the trash can. With a nod, he turned to her. "So this is where you have been hiding at?"
"Yeah, I needed to get my shit together and decided what's not a better place to do it than in the studio," Imani said whilst crossing her arms. "I've been writing little bits and pieces here and there but I still feel as though I'm losing my mind," Imani said, approaching the young male from behind, watching as he stood in front of the control board.
"Wait, um here, let me show you something," Imani suddenly said, switching through the topic of the conversation like a knife. DeVanté's eyes darted in her direction as Imani's fingers dabbled on with the switches, motioning for him to sit on the rotating chairs that were placed right behind them. Once his body found comfort in the seat, Imani looked at him with a subtle flicker of hope.
"I need you to be honest with whatever you hear. If it's bad I need to know that it's bad so in that way I can make it better." Pressing play on what was left of the track she'd been working on, Imani sat back and waited for DeVanté's response.
Soon after, a New Jack Swing-like melody oozed out of the squared studio speakers, the beat prompting DeVanté to tap a finger in acknowledgment, a small smile appearing almost instantly. "This is hot," The man said nodding his head along to the beat.
"You think so?" Imani questioned, her eyes burning with hope. DeVanté gave an enthusiastic nod, genuinely enjoying the naturally catchy beat.
"Yeah, it's dope," DeVanté assured, causing Imani to laugh. "I'm serious, and this is for the soundtrack right?" The young man excitedly questioned, his body shifting in his seat with extreme eagerness. Imani nodded, and with a sigh, she crossed her arms. "Yeah. But what if nobody likes it."
"Why would you say that?" DeVanté asked, noting the abrupt change in Imani's mood. The black woman's shoulders heightened with hesitance, glancing back at the confused male. "There's this voice in my head. That no matter what I do it'll never be good enough for anyone," Imani admitted, her hands sinking into her lap.
DeVanté's expression contorted into one of understanding, "That's doubt talking to you. You're most likely stressed," He said, finding reason and understanding in her words. "It's a part of life and being an artist. There will always be those moments where you're unsure about what you're creating and the best thing to do now is just ride the ways. The last thing you need is even more stress. Besides I'm sure your supporters would love to hear whatever you drop."
Imani stared at him with a shy smile, and she felt her heart beating irregularly, finding it hard to comprehend how much she was starting to feel a sense of love towards him. So this is how it felt to be completely open about one's feelings? It was something she had to get used to. "Plans for Thanksgiving? For me, If I can I'd want to go back home just for a bit. You can join me if you want to. I'm sure my mom will love to meet you."
"Speaking of parents. My mom would love you." DeVanté adds.
The topic of meeting each other's parents never seemed to play in either adult's mind. Sure, there was a thought that passed through but having an open discussion never came in full rotation.
Nodding, DeVanté realizes that she failed to mention one parent and points it out. "What about your dad? You never really talk about him."
"We haven't spoken much. He's still mad about me doing this." Imani and her father's relationship had been at odds as of lately. He didn't want to talk to her and she wasn't so sure if she wanted to talk to him. The last time they were in the same room, it resulted in a full-blown argument.
Imani could only smile appreciatively as he opted to caress her hand assuringly. He didn't have the strength to stop. Unfortunately, the quiet space they shared was interrupted. "Oh, excuse me for intruding," A voice interjected, causing both of them to turn their heads toward the entrance.
Standing at the front door was Eve. She appeared apologetic, a complete contrast to how things went the last time. Closing the door behind her, she looked around before clearing her throat. "Uh, Dalvin told me that you'd be here. I come in peace."
The Devan sisters hadn't spoken to each other since the argument. Imani chose to keep herself in the studio while Eve busied herself with the tedious task of being a manager.
It grew silent until Eve asked. "Can we talk?".
authors note: Omg an actual update from me and not reuploads. I know this was a long time in the making but I'm here now!!!! Hope you guys enjoy!!!
