on folks like that? C’mon, now. Who wrote those lines for you?”
What the hell? “The song isn’t about ‘popping’ on anybody, and I wrote them.”
“You wrote the whole song?” he says. “And the freestyles in the battle?”
Seriously, what the hell? “I wrote the song, and I came up with the freestyles on the spot just like you’re supposed to do in a battle. What are you trying to say?”
“Chill, baby girl,” Hype says. “Look, ain’t nothing wrong with a ghostwriter, all right? My thing is, ghostwriters need to write authentically for the person. Ain’t no way you out here strapped like backpacks.”
You know what? Screw this. It doesn’t matter what I say or do. Everybody will have their own idea of me and of that song, regardless. I snatch the headphones off. “I’m out.”
“Whoa, we’re not done, Li’l Law.”
“My name is Bri!” Feels like every bone in my body yells that out.
“Okay, Bri. Look, it’s all good,” he says with a smirk. I wanna wipe it off his face, I swear. “We were having a good conversation. No need to get mad.”
“You accused me of not writing my own shit! How the hell is that good?”
“You must not write your stuff if you getting this defensive.”
The door flies open and Supreme rushes in. “Bri, calm down.”
“It’s all good, ’Preme,” Hype says. “If she strapped like she said in the song, she’ll handle me.”
He plays a laugh track.
I almost jump over the table, but Supreme holds me back. “Fuck you!”
“Aww, see? This why they kicked you out of the Ring. Baby girl PMSing up in here.” Hype plays a drum kick to cap off his “joke.”
Supreme has to practically drag me out. We pass all these station workers in the hallway, and they stare and whisper as Hype makes another “joke” over the speakers. I have no problem whooping all of their asses.
Supreme gets me to the lobby. I snatch out of his grasp.
He chuckles. “Goddamn. What’s got you riled up?”
Everything. I breathe hard and blink harder, but my eyes burn anyway. “Did you hear him?”
“I told you he would push your buttons. That’s what Hype does.” Supreme pats my cheek. “You’re a goddamn genius, you know that? You did exactly what I told you all those weeks ago. I’m surprised you remembered.”
I look at him as my breath finally catches up with my pounding heart. “What?”
“You played that ratchet hood rat role. You know how much publicity you ’bout to get from this?”
It’s like having a bucket of ice water thrown into my face.
Ratchet hood rat.
Thousands of people just heard me act like that. Millions more may see the video. They won’t care that my life is a mess and I had every right to be mad. They’ll just see an angry black girl from the ghetto, acting like they expected me to act.
Supreme laughs to himself. “You played the role,” he says. “Goddamn, you played the role.”
Problem is, I wasn’t playing. That’s what I’ve become.
Twenty-Eight
I ask Supreme to take me to Sal’s. I need my brother.
Supreme’s phone blows up the whole way. He can’t stay still for bouncing in his seat.
“Whooo!” He smacks the steering wheel like he’s giving it a high five. “We ’bout to get paid, baby girl! I swear, this the best shit you could’ve done! We on our goddamn way!”
Ratchet hood rat. Three words, four syllables.
Everybody’s gonna think I’m a hood rat, that’s good at
being ratchet and blowing gaskets.
The Closed sign is on Big Sal’s door when Supreme drops me off. It’s still morning, and the shop doesn’t open until noon. Sal spots me peeking in through the glass and lets me in the shop anyway. She tells me that Trey’s in the back.
It’s hard to say what Trey’s position is at Sal’s. Sometimes he waits tables, other times he oversees the orders in the kitchen. Today, he mops the kitchen floor.
Ms. Tique . . . I mean Kayla, watches nearby. She wears the hoop earrings like she wore in the Ring and a green apron. She’s much smaller than she seemed in the Ring though—she doesn’t even come to Trey’s shoulder. I guess the mic makes her larger than life.
They’re the only two in the kitchen. Usually, this place is bustling as employees toss pizza dough in the air, yell out orders, and slide pies into the oven. It’s almost too quiet and still today. I guess everybody else hasn’t come in yet. Leave it to Trey to show up early.
Trey wrings the mop