When Jezelda received her coming-of-age trial from the coven elders, she was horrified. Sacrifices were always part of the ritual, but this time, it was extreme.
Mr. Aubrey Graham, the greatest rap-star sensation alive. How could he not be enchanted...
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It's always been hard to sleep the week after a big tour. It's like my body still chases the high, and my mind doesn't have a say anymore.
Damn, I thought to myself, that's a bar. I should write that down.
I opened my eyes and squinted as the sun burst through beneath the blinds. To my left were two unrecognizable naked females, one blonde and one brunette, fast asleep with their breasts peeking out above the covers. I couldn't even recollect where I found them. Wait, bar, I thought, I was gonna write a bar. What was I gonna write? Fuck, bro. I was too distracted; I needed to get out.
I slowly shifted out from beneath the covers and pulled on a pair of pants.
"Mr. Graham," my butler greeted me as I left the bedroom. Holy shit, he was fast. I hire the best, and he's awesome, but my head throbbed like a heartbeat.
"Sup, Davis."
"Very good, sir. We have breakfast waiting for you on the lawn as usual. And your, uh, friends..." he said, peering into the bedroom, "will they be dining also?"
"No," I said. "Thank you. Please order them a cab and—"
"The usual, sir?"
"Yes, the usual. Thank you, Davis."
"Very good, sir."
He bowed, and I walked past him down the hall. Fuck, my head really throbbed. I needed something to get me through the day because I knew I wouldn't be sleeping. Just a few steps more, I thought to myself, until I can make it to my trusty lawn chair with my—
"Aubrey, we have to talk." My hyperactive assistant greeted me with far more energy than I could bear. He was the best at what he did—analytical, hardworking, he caught everything—but sometimes his eagerness for the job made it feel like I had to hide in my own estate.
"Man, I've got a splitting headache," I said. "Maybe we can talk later. Thank you, John."
I continued down the stairs, but he followed. "That's okay; it can wait for your breakfast. But not much longer than that."
Usually, John knew not to disturb me after a heavy night. I was perceptive enough to know when it was important.
"Okay, follow me," I said walking outside, and squinting as the sun hit my eyes. It was a beautiful morning, summertime in Toronto. There was the hum of birds, the sound of water flowing from my pool, and a gentle breeze in the air.
I sat down and lit the blunt instantly, taking a deep inhale through my chest. Flashes from last night were returning to me. I inhaled deeper to forget.
"Go on. Talk to me," I said, beckoning John to sit on the next chair.
Winter in Toronto, man, really made you appreciate the summer. Maybe I'll just stay here until August, I thought, hide out and focus on me and mine. No music, no work, no women. Just family.
"Okay," John took a deep breath, "21, he wants to meet sometime this week to go over a track, hang out."
"Friday," I said. "But no work. What's next?"
"GQ would like a sta—"
"No, next."
"Future's team would like to talk. They see a collaboration in mind. Now, hear me out—"
"Fuck that guy. Fuck, no," I said, inhaling. Had no time for these fools. If one of these pussies wanted to speak to me themselves, fine, I was all ears. I'm forgiving. But mans needed to say that shit themselves.
"Okay, well, you're not going to like what Kendrick or Ye's teams have to say..."
"Yup. Skip." The smoke blew from my mouth, almost glistening in the summer air.
"There's a potential for a collaboration with Ms. Pink Pantheress. Now, I know you said no work for the next month, but I know how much you love the UK..."
I downed the OJ, and the coolness that extinguished the burn in my throat was exactly what I needed.
"See if she'll do late August. Actually, no, make that September. I got too much shit piling up in August."
"Okay, got it," John affirmed, scribbling quickly into his notebook.
"You want some food, John?" I asked, stretching out my body, finally relaxed from the bud.
"No, thank you."
"Alright," I said, picking up my black shades from the tray and placing them over my eyes. For some reason, I felt that John wasn't relaxed. There was something still bothering him; his energy was clearly off.
"Is that everything, John?"
"Well, not really, no."
"What is it?" I yawned. Damn, I thought, maybe I could fall asleep.
"I'm not sure how to say it. But, plain and simple, Aubrey, someone is trying to kill you."
