Page 12 of Call and Response

I mean, obviously noteverybody, but definitely a lot of people, which was…shit.

It was one thing when it was music I’d written for someone else, butthis?

This was different.

This was affirming in a way I hadn’t expected, giving me a booster pack of confidence I used to charge into the next song, and the next, and the one after that.

And Noble…

Noble was a damn good decision.

Half my smiles on stage I could directly attribute to him. He didn’t justsoundgood, the man knew music. Not just how to use his voice, butmusic—lyrics to other songs in other genres, easily slipping in on-the-fly ad-libs that engaged the crowdandsounded amazing.

We didn’t just have complementary voices, we had actual performance chemistry, which I wouldeasilycredit for the long ass applause we got when we finished the set.

Which came out ofnowhere.

We were vibing, so the time justflewby. One moment I was giving that cringey introduction, the next we were waving goodbye, and one more blink and we were at my cousin Winnie’s gym for an after-hours celebratory wind-down—the open space was perfect for a last-minute thing.

With all the major planning out of the way—and the team I’d hired doing the actual coordination and running of the show—I’d been able to kinda… compartmentalize. I was never concerned about therestof the event going well.

Just the performance I was directly responsible for.

But if the buzz from the crowd was the primary metric to look for, it was clear the entire eventhad been a success, not just my performance.

Hence, the little after-party. We had rules about the time to leave the venue, but I felt like free drinks and food were the least—besides their paychecks, obviously—I could do.

My team, the band, my friends, some artists, Noble, some of his people too—at least thirty people ended up packed in for what I’d really intended to be a small thing.

Waytoo many.

But it was okay.

The energy from the successful performance had me damn near floating, so I wasn’t even bothered like I might normally be. I was, however, tired.

Which Winnie must’ve picked up on.

“Aiight, it’s late, y’all. You ain’t gotta go home, but… y’all know the rest,” she playfully announced. All that was needed to get people moving on to their next things—sleep, other parties, booty calls, whatever.

“Thank you for that,” I told her between goodbyes, as people started filtering out.

“No problem, cuzzo. I can see theover itall in your face.” She laughed, making my eyes go wide. “Chill,” she said, holding up her hands. “Your eyes are just getting low.”

“Oh,” I breathed, relieved. “Everybody did such a good job. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m bothered by something. All I really need is some quiet. Maybe a bit of sleep.”

“Bye,” Winnie huffed. “What you need is somedick.”

“Donotstart that,” I groaned, stepping away from her in an attempt to stave off that line of conversation.

She wasn’t having it though. She followed right behind me, and then stepped in front, wearing a mischievous grin that instantly spiked fear.

“Winnie…”

“Hey Noble, you think you can walk Audra home please?” she called over to where he was standing a few feet away.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise before he walked over and I couldn’t even scold Winnie for the clear—to me, at least—implication she’d laid, for no damn reason.

“That’s unnecessary,” I told him, shaking my head. “I’m sure you’re exhausted and probably ready to get home. I’m going to hang out a bit longer to help clean—”

---