SAL

The Starving Artist

“Sal! Boy you better get out here and leave that music stuff alone!”

Deafened by the bass in speakers Sal’s mother’s voice was nothing more but a whisper in the end until she started banging on the door. Quickly he took off his Dre beats

“Alright ma’ calm your tits!”

“Boy what did you say to me?” Sal sighed.

“Nothing I’m coming now ma”

“You better” as she retreated from the door Sal could faintly hear her mumbling, “Calm your tits? Where does he get that from?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. His mother was only “5’2” and seeing her angry was like watching a house kitten trying to be a mountain lion it amused everyone, but don’t get it mistaken she was a witch if she got a shoe or belt in her hands. When things got that far Sal’s motto was “fuck the shoes and run!”

Grinning he walked over to the old and battered stereo that took up half his room and turned down the music but it just didn’t feel right so he turned it up all the way up til’ he couldn’t even here his own thoughts. Quickly he picked out his blue beanie, blue members only jacket and paired it with some cargos zipping up his jacket to where his chest freckles were exposed and his tattoo was out in the open.

“Sal!” he looked down at his little sister and smiled before he could move she latched herself onto his leg forcing him to walk downstairs with an 80 pound little girl laughing her head off as he struggled to move both him and her.

“Mija let go I gotta go to school.” He picked her up and kissed her forehead.

“No, you have to play tea cups with me.” He sighed and was about to say no until she poked her lips out.

“Ok, ok I promise as soon as I come home it’s me you and the tea cups.” He quickly put her down as she ran away yelling her bunny rabbits name.

“Sal! Boy I told you to hurry up-“

“Mom I’m right here!” his mom looked him up and down assessing what he had on. When she was done she ended with a small humph. He grimaced thinking here we go.

“Where are you going dressed like that?”

“To school where else?”

“Watch it Sal that tone may be cool with those little whores at your school but not with me I’m your mother.” He nodded absently mindedly his focus only on speeding up the conversation.

“Got your chest all out tattoo showing didn’t I tell yo-“his moms rant was quickly interrupted by the honk of his friend Chuck’s horn.

“Oh hmm mhh bye mom!” he quickly dashed out their little house and made a beeline for Chuck’s 2001 escalade it wasn’t much with scratches and the paint chipping off but it was their only way of transportation and no one complained about that.

“Aye Sal hurry yo hi-yellow ass on!” Chuck honked the horn.

“I’m coming nigga hold on.” Grinning to himself more than to Sal as the door opened he said,

“That’s what she said.” There was a moment of silence before they started busting out in laughter. Pulling out the narrow driveway Chuck turned up the radio til the car was shaking.

“You hear that!” the music was so loud he had to scream to for Sal to hear him even though he was in the seat right next to him. Sal turned down the knob and bumped his head to the instrumental it was nothing really just the instrumental to Rack City by Tyga.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Nigga what’s so special about it is that this Asian chick from Toronto got signed to the Last Kings Label off of some whack ass lyrics. That’s what’s special” Sal shrugged.

“Maybe we should just move to Canada.” Chuck laughed and saw Sal grin too. He pushed him on the shoulder.

“Look man I’m not saying start to deliver whack ass lyrics but I’m saying we need to change our style. If we start doing covers to songs that are popular and ciphers within the group there’s no way that we won’t make it.” Sal wasn’t so sure being in control of his own music is what made him, him. He couldn’t see himself rapping over the cookie cutter beats that was out on the mainstream. He didn’t like the idea one bit he felt as if his freedom was being taken from him. Chuck quickly saw that and tried to clear it up.

“Look Sal we’ve been at this thing for about 2 years and right now its do or die I’m not saying sell out and start singing raps and shit I’m talking about taking mainstream back to being underground. Cookie cutter beats, yeah but raw lyrics.” Sal nodded but was still skeptical.

“Look we got what it takes we got the fan base, the reviews ,the downloads Sal numbers don’t lie but if we started doing covers to these new songs we’d be making nothing but music and money!” he sighed again.

“Sal I’m not trying to pressure you but the crew has agreed this is it this is our last year. So if shit doesn’t happen now we done.” At that Sal’s head popped up. He couldn’t believe his ears. The crew couldn’t be done Sal slaved night and day trying to come up with the best beats and get them out there. He had become a starving artist and he didn’t care if it was just him in his room alone back to everyone making music he was going to get someone to hear him. He took deep breaths and nodded towards Chuck.

“I’ll think about doing the covers to the songs but I won’t stop. I’m gonna do this whether yall with me or not.” With that Sal hopped out the car and headed towards his locker no thoughts in his head only the sound of feet scraping tile and lockers slamming. It wasn’t the perfect harmony but it was the closest thing to a beat he could get in his head.