Mentor

Rich

August

After the contact name was changed he stuffed his phone back in his front pocket and took some time to look over the lyrics. Reading was still hard for him even after being two years post. As he would move the paper away from his face and then closer to his face.

What a day to forget his glasses.

Because of his eye disease he cannot wear contacts, so it has to be glasses. He tends to wear a lot of prescription sunglasses but just his luck the pair he had on him now wasn't one of them.

Kirko shoved his phone back into his front pocket and adjusted the collar of the black polo he wore. "You good, mane?"

August was thankfully that his skin tone was dark enough to hide the redness that was currently warming his face. "Yeah I'm cool. Words just a little blurry."

Since August was open with his eye condition when he first found out about it. He even posted a few pictures and a clip or two about his disease and how he was recovering. So Kirko already knew what was up with that.

"Aye, you want me to read if for you?" He asked softly. "I know how it feels to miss the glasses and can't read a damn thing." He gave a soft laugh.

August looked at him and smiled, passed him the lyrics.

After reading the lyric sheet carefully a few times to him, August had memorized it and was ready to record. He was extremely grateful about how understanding Kirko was about the whole embarrassing situation with not being able to read the words on the sheet.

Kirko passed August the paper and went inside the soundproof booth to do his recording as August took a seat in a black leather office chair to watch him. He slid the headphones connected to the recorder over his ears so he could listen to him as he sang.

He immediately began bobbing his head to the smooth way he sang about he hardships he had faced while living and trying to survive in Houston's ghetto. It was something that he could really relate to, you know? Working full time but getting hit with eviction notices to the point you either sell rocks on the street corner or live on the same damn corner.

This was just something Chris could never relate to.. he never got old enough to know how it felt to worry and stress about money. By the time he was fifteen he was crowded the next Michael Jackson and was basically a millionaire with a giant mansion in the hills, and all of that on his first single?

Meanwhile when August dropped his first album it still took him like over a year to save enough money up to afford a small mansion that could easily fit inside Chris's mansion.

He was dealing with a swarm of thought and emotions circling in his brain with Kirko said something that had him and August junior at full attention instantly.

'..I guess I have to ride me a nigga..'

Now why was the first thing that came to his mind a naked Kirko Bangz riding his cock? Enough though that was probably not what he meant to imply.

What a day to wear tight pants.

When Kirko came out of the chamber he had a big smile on his face that made August's heart race in his chest. "How I do?" He asked sounding a little shy and timid. Kinda reminded him about the days working with Chris in the beginning, how shy and nervous he was about every single little thing.

"I thought it was dope as fuck, mane." August smiled, nodding his head a little. "Sounds like a hit to me. My turn."

Kirko laughed and stepped aside so he could enter whilst August slid the headphones off his head. "Aight mane, you do you.. and hit a couple high notes here and there.. and now what I'm saying, be a little extra."