Page 77 of This Side of Beautiful

The guys stared at me, clearly waiting for my response.

I rose from my chair and went back into the booth. I picked up my guitar and placed the strap over my head.

Through the intercom, Brian asked, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to avoid our being Icarus.”

Brian frowned.

Cedrick responded, “In Greek mythology, Icarus had man-made wings to escape from his captor. He started believing he was invincible and ignored his father’s warnings not to fly too high because the wax used to create the wings would melt. He soared too close to the sun, and the wax melted, and he tumbled into the sea.” He shook his head. “The lesson in that story was to be humble while you take risks and not start believing your own hype.”

Charles jumped up. “That man all deep and profound, and doesn’t think he’s the leader.”

Santiago followed Charles into the booth.

“Wait, so we’re not going to celebrate?” Brian held his hands out.

“We still have an album to work on,” Cedrick said. “We’ll celebrate after we work, like we always do.”

Brian rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he stomped into the booth.

“Run it,” I commanded, finally feeling my feet again.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

janae

When we walked outsideJunior’sto pandemonium, the adoring crowd energized me instead of scaring me. My driver served as security as he helped me get on the roof of the Lincoln Navigator. I partied with my fans longer as the music blasted from a nearby bodega. Jeri held her camera up, capturing the controlled chaos live. I was at the top of the mountain. This natural high was what I’d always wanted. I was grateful that I was sober and that I didn’t use any medication. Whatever I felt was real and not manufactured or altered. Janae Warner had finally done it. I was at the top and hadn’t self-destructed.

After I had danced to three popular songs by other artists, Frankie eased up on the hood through the crowd as I sang and danced. “Your fans are in the streets now and causing traffic jams. It could get dangerous. Police will be here soon.”

Annoyed, I batted her away with my hand like she were a pesky mosquito. “Let them come. This is my moment. Ain’t shit going to happen but good times.”

“You’re about to ruin your moment if it gets any more out of hand. Look around. We don’t have the manpower to protect you if it gets worse.”

Instead of heeding her advice, I started rapping to the next record that played, much to the growing crowd’s satisfaction. She climbed down as I yelled, “I just brought H-Town to the Big A.”

The people cheered loudly for their fallen star that had risen again like the phoenix from the ashes.

The heat of the May night and my unstoppable energy plastered my hair to my head, and sweat trickled down my face, wetting the vintageJason’s Lyrict-shirt I wore. My red Jordans gripped the top of the SUV’s roof as I danced, the perfect shoes for a night like this.

Arms raised, I hyped my fans more by getting them to chant along with me. Most shouted my name. Others just screamed.

Then, a sudden tug on the bottom of my jeans sent me off balance. My breath caught as my foot slipped.

The world tilted, and I barely caught myself before falling, my heart hammering as my limbs fought for control. But that tiny misstep changed everything.

The energy shifted and the crowd surged forward.

A ripple of grasping hands and desperate faces. Adoration twisting into something else. Something more urgent. More dangerous. I searched for Frankie and Jeri.

Nowhere.

Panic coiled around my ribs. I shouted, “Calm down! There’s too many of you!”

But the street was already packed tight with bodies, feverish and wild. The roar of voices blurred into chaos. It felt less like a celebration and more like a concert spiraling out of control.

What have you done, Janae?

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