Expect The Unexpected (H-Town)

Truth Moment

G.I.

"Is it just me, or was today awkward as fuck for y'all too?" I asked.

"Kaedi starting to get on my nerves," Dino said, rubbing his chin. "It's like she purposely trying to make me jealous."

"I thought you said you wasn't even feeling her like that," Shazam replied.

"Yeah, that's what you said," I added.

"I wasn't!" Dino said quickly. "I mean—I'm not. I don't know how I feel about her, to keep it real."

I shook my head. "I don't even know if I'm starting to like Leah for real, or if it's just because she started talking to that dude."

"That's exactly why," Shazam and Dino said at the same time.

I sighed. "Probably."

I glanced at Shazam. "What about you? You not feeling Stacey?"

He shrugged. "Certain moments, yeah. But overall? Nah, not like that."

"Probably won't have to worry about that much longer," Dino said. "She got a new dude now."

"As long as he keeps her distracted and we stay close friends, I'm good," Shazam replied.

That told me everything I needed to know.

"Anyway," Dino said, clapping his hands, "back to the music. I got this song—I really think it's a hit. We just gotta get somebody big to hear it."

"What's it called?" Shazam asked.

"Knockin Da Boots," Dino said, grinning.

"I like that title," I said with a smirk. "I know somebody boots I feel like knockin right now."

"Shit, me too!" Shazam laughed, and we dapped it up.

"I made copies," Dino said, handing them out. "Tell me what y'all think."

He stepped into the booth. "Hit playback, my man."

Me and Shazam grabbed chairs and listened as the track played. Dino's voice filled the room—smooth, confident, different.

About ten minutes in, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called, stopping the track.

A tall, skinny dude stepped inside. Dino came out of the booth.

"Who this?" Shazam asked.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I said, eyeing him.

"Relax," Dino said. "This Bishop Burrell—everybody call him Stick. He's the one who can get us that record deal."

Stick laughed and nodded. "That's up to Luke, really—but I'll say this. Y'all definitely got something."

"Well why we still standing here?" I said, already hyped. "Let's go sing and get this deal!"

We piled out of the studio and into Stick's truck.

As I shut the door, I bowed my head quietly.

"God, please be with us. If this record deal is meant for us, let it happen. In Jesus' name, amen."

The engine started.

And just like that, everything felt like it was about to change.

The ride felt longer than it probably was.

Stick drove like he had somewhere important to be, radio low, tapping the steering wheel like he already knew how this was gonna end. Dino sat in the front seat quiet as hell, staring out the window like he was already imagining his name on a CD cover. Shazam was in the back with me, leg bouncing nonstop.

"You good?" I asked him under my breath.

"Yeah," he said. "Just... thinking."

We pulled up in front of this low-key studio building—nothing flashy, but something about it felt serious. Like real dreams lived and died in there.

Stick cut the engine. "Aight," he said, turning around.

"Luke doesn't like wasted time. Be confident. Don't overdo it. And most importantly—be yourselves."

Easier said than done.

Inside, the place smelled like old carpet, cigarettes, and money. Not fresh money—earned money. We were led into a smaller studio room where a heavyset man sat behind a desk, arms crossed, gold chain resting on his chest.

Luke.

He looked us over slowly. No smile. No rush.

"So," he said, voice deep and calm. "Y'all the group Stick been hyping up?"

"Yes sir," Dino said quickly, then caught himself. "I mean—yeah. That's us."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Which one of y'all the lead?"

Dino stepped forward. "That'd be me."

Luke nodded. "What y'all got?"

I slid the cassette into the deck with slightly shaky hands and hit play.

The room filled with music.

Dino's voice came through smooth, confident—like he'd been born to do this. Shazam harmonized clean, G.I. grounded it all. I watched Luke's face the whole time, searching for something. A nod. A foot tap.

Anything.

Halfway through, his head tilted.

That was something.

When the song ended, silence sat heavy in the room.

Luke leaned back in his chair. "What you say this was called again?"

"Knockin Da Boots," Dino replied.

Luke huffed out a short laugh. "Catchy."

My heart jumped.

"You wrote this?" Luke asked.

"Yeah," Dino said. "All original."

Luke stood up slowly and walked toward us. "I ain't gonna lie. This got potential. Radio-friendly. Smooth. Women gonna eat this up."

Shazam let out a breath he'd clearly been holding.

"But," Luke continued, holding up a finger, "potential don't mean a deal. It means opportunity."

We nodded, all of us.

"I'll put this in rotation with a few other tracks I'm listening to," Luke said. "If it moves me after a few more listens, we'll talk business."

Dino's jaw tightened—but he kept it respectful. "That's all we asking for."

Luke looked at him for a long second. "Don't let outside distractions mess this up. Fame don't wait for nobody to get their feelings together."

That hit a little too close.

Stick clapped his hands once. "You heard him. Let's move."

We thanked Luke and walked out, adrenaline buzzing through our veins.

As soon as the door closed behind us—

"Y'ALL HEARD THAT?!" Shazam whispered-shouted.

"He said potential!"

"That's not a no," Dino said, smiling for real this time.

I nodded. "That's the closest thing to a yes we ever got."

But as we stepped back into the daylight, I couldn't shake what Luke said.

Don't let outside distractions mess this up.

Because every one of us was already distracted.

And the higher we climbed?

The harder the fall was gonna be.