Page 5 of Call and Response

I sucked my teeth. “Man, I’m not trying to fuck you,” I told him. “I want you to perform with me tonight.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Perform? Withyou?”

“Yes, with me,” I countered, propping my hands on my hips. “Something was missing and I think you could be the answer.”

He shook his head. “Audra… you’re a writer. A damn talented writer. What do you mean, perform?”

“I’m notjusta writer,” I argued. “I can sing, and I can perform, and… it’s a yes or no question. Will you do it?”

“You say it like it’s so simple.”

“Because it is,” I insisted. “People don’t know me, not like this. But they know you. They’ll be excited for you.”

“What would we even perform?” he asked.

“My songs.”

“I don’t know your songs!”

“But you’re a performer, arealperformer,” I countered. “You know how to improvise, and ad lib, right?”

He pushed out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah, but—”

“No buts!” I shook my head. “It’ll be amazing—call and response. I know you’re familiar.”

“Yeah, b—”

“No buts!Remember?” I asked. “It’s a forty-five minute set. We’ll do a couple of my songs, a couple of well-known duets. ‘Nothing Even Matters’and ‘Say So’,” I decided right then, certain he already knew both songs. When he didn’t object, I kept talking. “And we can do a couple of your—”

“Nah,” he cut me off. “I’m good.”

“Noble, we have to do something where you’re the focus.”

“It won’t be a bunch of stuff nobody was fucking with.”

I sighed. “Fair enough.The Curesongs then.”

“Josiah is gonna bitch about it.”

“Who gives a shit?” I laughed. “When is Josiahnotbitching about something?”

Thatearned me something adjacent to a smirk.

Finally, a sign of amusement from him.

“So… we’re doing this?” I asked and he let out a little huff.

“I… I don’t know.” He shook his head. “This is pretty wild for last minute. What do I get out of this?”

“You get to be back on stage, doing what you love, and you werewaytoo open to this idea for me to believe yourI’m not really doing music anymorebullshit,” I told him. “This—music—is in your veins.”

“Like poison,.” He snorted. “Just cause it’s in me, doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“That’ssodramatic.” I laughed. “And I’m not trying to hear it. If you do this for me… I’ll write you a hit song.”

He scoffed. “You can’t guarantee that.”

“The hell I can’t. Every song I write is a hit song.”

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