Not even a month after laying her father to rest, Drew had simply cut all ties with her. Sure she had been going through some things, but for him to just abandon her in her time of need, broke her heart. He would still text or call her from time to time, but Brix’s heart had already iced over. She loved him with everything in her and he straight left her. Till this day, she didn’t know why and didn’t have the need to find out either. The two men in her life who promised to always be there, were now gone.
She wiped the lone tear that slipped from her eye and took a deep breath. Yes, she had been through a lot over the years, but she was still standing. Her good had outweighed the bad, and she had no one to thank but the man above for shedding light onto her situations. Brix and her mother could have been doing a lot worse. Placing the plastic wrap over the last cake of the night, she gave herself a pat on the back. It was going on one in the morning and she had to be up bright and early to finish her orders. Taking a look around at the halfway clean kitchen, rubbing her eyes, she shook her head no.
“You will not be getting cleaned tonight kitchen. Un un,” she said, walking up the stairs toward her bedroom.
The room wasn’t as big as the one she had in her old apartment, but it was hers, and she had somewhere to lay her head. There was no way she was letting her mother live alone in this big house. Brix wasn’t having that. Tossing her dirty laundry in the hamper, she climbed in the shower, washing away another day of hard work. Climbing out, she lotioned down in her favorite signature body lotion from Bath and Body Works, a gift from her cousin, and hopped in bed.
“May the Lord bless me, angels protect me, family and friends make it through the night and give strength to those who are weak. Thank you for another day and I pray you protect those who cannot protect themselves. Amen,” she prayed, cutting her light off and heading to bed.
She hadn’t always prayed, but certain things had happened in her life and she had no one to turn to. If no one else was down for her and kept his or her promises, she knew the Lord would.
Two
“Boy! If you don’t turn that damn music down! Ain’t nobody tryna hear that early in the morning!” Shemel’s mama yelled down the basement steps.
Shemel wasn’t trying to hear what she was talking about. One of his homeboys had just sent him a cold beat to listen to and that mufucka was live. He had been up all night waiting for him to send it over and finally, at eight in the morning, he received it. He had been working on the next song he was going to drop, and this beat just might be the one he needed to take him to the next level. At twenty-five, Shemel Wright was somewhat living out his dream. He hadn’t made it to where everyone knew his name, but he was close. A few record labels had hit him up wanting to discuss deals, but he wasn’t feeling them, especially if the money wasn’t right. That’s what they saw him as in the end anyway, so why not make ‘em drop bread.
He turned the stereo system down, and then jogged upstairs to the kitchen where his mama was making breakfast. He had crashed over there the night before after running the streets with his people, and hadn’t been to sleep since. He figured he could sleep when he died, but until then, he was getting to the money. He kissed his mother on the cheek, after scarfing down his food, and went to hop in the shower to get his day started. He had to bust a few serves and make some runs for his mama before the birthday party. His little princess was turning six and he couldn’t wait to give her her gifts.
Shemel hopped out the shower, heading back downstairs. He threw on a LRG shirt, some 501’s, and his Puma’s he had just copped from the mall. After throwing his freshly twisted dreads in a bun, he sprayed on some cologne and grabbed his gun from under the couch seat. He never had it out openly because his mama would flip out. She knew the life he was trying to stray away from, but wouldn’t dare encourage it. Shemel was her youngest, and she desperately wanted him to go a different route than his older siblings and cousins, as well as her brothers. Every single one of them had been in the streets at some point in their life and were either still in ‘em, dead, or in jail. To her, that was the only way out.
“Aye ma! I’m bouta make some moves real quick. What time the party start again?” he said, throwing his coat on. It was the beginning of January and it was colder than that thang outside.
“Two o’clock, and you better not be late. Don’t forget you have to pick the cake and gift up from Mrs. McQueen’s house,” she said, placing the bacon wrapped smokies in the oven.
“Dang ma. Why can’t Omar pick it up? I got stuff to do.” he asked, referring to his older brother.