Page 29 of Free to Fall

“Yo,” he said, clapping his hands once.Notice Meis moving. Streams are up again, and the label’s getting calls.”

I raised a brow. “From who?”

“Fallon. They want you on next week for a full set. Both the performance and a sit-down.”

I tilted my head and sipped my tea. “We’ve done Fallon before.”

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but not like this. Not asEgypt the Artist. Not withthisenergy. And that’s the difference.”

That made me pause. He was right. This was different. I wasn’t just showing up to promote a movie or series anymore. This was my music, my words, my sound. It was my name on the byline and the billboard.

“Let’s do it.”

He clapped his hands once. “I figured you were going to say that. I’ll start the paperwork. Get your glam team ready.”

He walked out before I could even scream. And the first person I wanted to call, text, run to, was Nasseem.

I stood in the hallway, phone in my hand, staring at his contact. It was our thing—me not calling him in moments like this. But I was tired of keeping him tucked away in my private wins. I didn’t want to celebrate like he wasn’t part of the reason I even felt like singing again.

I typed the message twice. Deleted it both times. He’d be proud. I knew that. But the truth was…I wanted to see his face when I told him. I wanted his arms around me when the nerves kicked in. I wanted him. And I hated that I couldn’t just have that.

Later that afternoon, I met Averi at one of our favorite low-key lunch spots downtown—Clover & Vine, a tucked-away eatery with lemon water in mason jars, soft acoustic covers playing through the ceiling speakers, and a view of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows.

We grabbed a corner booth, tucked behind a big fiddle-leaf fig for privacy. I sipped from my green juice, legs crossed in leggings and an oversized hoodie. Averi had on shades and a slick bun, her signature iced chai in hand.

“You’ve been grinnin’ since you sat down,” she said, sliding her sunglasses down her nose. “Let me find out Marcus did a full 180.”

I snorted into my drink. “Absolutely not. Marcus is still corny. That man spent an entire date talkin’ about interest rates and real estate flips.”

“Ew.”

“I was lowkey glad that date ended early.” I told her.

“Ended early? You left that out… what happened.”

“Somebody I had been dealing with pulled up on us and abruptly ended that date.”

She sat back slowly. “Wait… you’ve been seeing someone?”

I nodded. A second passed before she leaned in, whispering. “Who?”

I stared at her for a beat, my stomach flipping. Because I hadn’t planned to tell anyone. Not yet. But suddenly… I didn’t want to carry it alone anymore. I didn’t want to keep him to myself in the dark like he wasn’t the best thing that had ever happened to me when I wasn’t even looking for it.

So, I sighed. “It’s Nasseem,” I said quietly.

Averi blinked. “Wait…what?”

I nodded, slowly. “Yeah...”

Her eyes went wide, mouth dropping open. “As in Creed’s best friend Nasseem? As in ‘scary fine, former problem child turned boxer of the decade’ Nas?”

“That’s the one.”

There was a brief moment of silence before she squealed “Bitch. I fuckin’ knew it.” I burst out laughing as she covered her mouth, looking around the restaurant like someone was gonna hear. “Since when?”

I looked down at my drink, rolling it between my palms. “Since Creed and Serenity’s wedding.”

“THE WEDDING? That was almost a year ago!”

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