Michael walked over to introduce himself. “Hey there, I’m Michael Vinson.”
He reached out his hand and I just stared at it until he pulled it back.
“You must be the actor.” I smirked. “Cherie said you were in New Jack City decades ago, but I don’t remember your face.”
Kagiso and Antonio chuckled. Diederik didn’t get the joke because he had likely never heard of the Wesley Snipes movie about the crack explosion in NYC.
Michael seemed ashamed. “I’ve done some things since then. I’d love to be in one of your music videos, if you have any about to go into production.”
“And what could you possibly do in one of my music videos?”
He shrugged. “Play one of your love interests or something. We’re about the same age.”
I laughed and pointed at KAD. “Do you see my bodyguards? I mean, do you see them? It takes more than good looks to be in one of my videos. They’re a walking video.”
Michael was getting upset. Poor Little Tink Tink.
“Well, maybe I can have my agent submit my information just in case something comes up.”
A lightbulb went off in my head. “Tell you what. Give me your cell number and I’ll be in touch personally. Now that I think about it, I may have a role for you. I’m cutting my new album and soon I’ll be working on the title-cut video.”
The expression on his face went from disappointment to euphoria. In his mind, he was thinking that he might be able to resurrect an acting career that was never breathing in the first place.
“Sure, let me give you my card.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed me a tan card. “My cell’s on there, and my e-mail. Whatever works for you.”
Cherie was starting to get uncomfortable about her man giving me his personal information. “Michael, she really could contact you through me. We’re already friends.”
“Friends?” I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, whatever.”
Diederik was eyeing me suspiciously again. I was doing the most and decided to cut it out.
“I’m ready, guys.” I started walking toward the stairs that led up to the entrance. “We need to get to the studio.”
As we were leaving, I spotted Jonovan and his friend. Once again, he forgot all about her and started staring at me. It was all so confusing. He thought I reminded him of Caprice and it felt good to know that he had never forgotten her. I was still attracted to both his looks and his spirit, after all that time. But what could become of it? There I was, hell-bent on getting revenge on people for being wolves in sheep’s clothing, but what the fuck would that make me?
Chapter Thirteen
Brian and I were in my new studio. Instead of continuing to rent one in the Atlanta area, I had one built on my own property. It was finally ready, and I was loving it. I had it completely decorated in white. Something about white calmed me when I was singing. I also slept to white noise most of the time. The blankness of it all helped me zone out everything and everyone else. I spent a lot of time meditating as well. Sometimes it helped; sometimes I had problems relaxing and controlling my breathing and thoughts.
I used to think that meditation was complicated, and while some people do make it that way, the overall idea is to sit still for at least twenty minutes—I tried to do it both in the morning and the evening—and control your thoughts. Obviously you will not be able not to think or worry—especially when you are going through a lot of shit—but you put your thoughts and worries into compartments and analyze them one by one. Tons of meditation music was available right on YouTube if you didn’t want to pay for it.
That night, after seeing Jonovan, I decided to work on a new song impromptu. I was going to call it “Surge” because that was how I had felt the two times I had seen him. Just seeing him brought out something powerful in me, in my soul. The sad part was that it was as plain as the nose on my face that I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
One of the things that I had learned in therapy when I was younger was that being delusional was very damaging to me. Over the years, I had fantasized about being in normal relationships with various men. I had detailed, vivid dreams about our lives together. Cooking and eating dinner together via candlelight; curling up and watching movies on the sofa or in the bed; making love all night until the break of dawn; celebrating holidays together, especially Christmas, New Year’s, and Valentine’s Day.
There was only one thing that I never fantasized about when it came to men. I never dreamed of having children. A few months earlier I had come across an online survey—I spent a lot of time alone, so I read a lot on the Internet—where they had interviewed about three hundred women regarding why they had made the decision to never have kids. I read through each and every one of them. The list included: