Page 78 of Free to Fall

Averi didn’t miss a beat. With a wicked grin she replied, “Three witches fromThe Coven... and not a broomstick in sight.”

I snorted. “Speak for yourself. I flew in on Delta, row 23, seat B. And baby... it was giving turbulence and trauma.” The crowd laughed. Serenity just shook her head, that serene smile on her face like she was the only calm one in the chaos.

“If you don’t know who we are,” Serenity said, glancing dramatically at the camera, “first of all, rude, but we starred in,The Coven,the hit supernatural drama where we cast spells, slayed demons, fell in love with vampires that looked like they played AAU basketball, and still made time for bad decisions and baby hairs.”

Averi cut in without missing a beat, “It’s giving Black girl magic meets the therapy session we keep rescheduling.”

“We should probably stop rescheduling those. Being an adult is very ghetto kids, 100% do not recommend.” I added, deadpan to the camera as if I was speaking to an imaginary group of kids. “Also, don’t judge us.” The crowd cackled and that lit a fire under all three of us.

“Ladies, let’s focus on why we’re here.” Serenity shook her head. “To talk aboutThe Coven. Some of our co-stars reached out to us before we got here to give their support. What were some of your favorite storylines from the show?” she asked Averi and me.

“I loved the pilot episode.” Averi replied. “Because I didn’t have to do that much talking. My character was the least problematic of the three of us.”

“I think I agree. My character died, came back, lost her memory, fell in love with her enemy, died again, then came back with a new wig,” I said, flipping my curls dramatically. “And the wig slayed harder than the storyline.”

“And now that the show is coming to an end after six messy, magical seasons,” Serenity said, “we’re branching out.”

“Averi’s writing and producing,” I said proudly. “She wrote and produced half of her husband’s newest album. Shout out to Royal sinceConcrete Rosesis still topping the charts.”

“Serenity opened a dance studio that already has a waitlist longer than a Popeyes line on chicken sandwich day,” Averi added. “If you’re in LA and need to put your kiddos in dance school, she’s your girl.”

“And me?” I placed a hand over my heart. “I am recording an album; I soft launched a relationship, shout out to my man, and now I need a nap.” The audience laughed, and I soaked it in before flashing a quick smile. “But tonight, I’m here to perform my new singleCtrl+Alt+Del,which is out now and climbing the charts. Stream that now on all platforms.”

Averi narrowed her eyes at me. “You really just plugged yourself during the monologue?”

I shrugged, not even pretending to be sorry. “Would you expect anything less from me?”

“She got a point,” Serenity said, already laughing. “Anyway, we are beyond excited to be here tonight. It’s our farewell toThe Coven,our hello to whatever’s next, and a celebration of the chaos that brought us together.”

“And trust,” Averi added, “there’s gonna be skits, spells, wigs, and probably a fake commercial for lace glue sponsored by Black Twitter. But without further ado…”

We turned to the camera, flashing smiles like we were born for this. All three of us shouted in perfect unison, “Live from New York—it’s Saturday Niiiiight!”

The show was a blur of laughs, sketch changes, and applause. Co-hosting with Serenity and Averi was effortless. Our chemistry on stage was just as tight as it was off. Then came the musical performances. First wasNotice Me, the lights dimmed low, spotlight warm on my skin. I stood center stage, mic in hand, and let the words carry me. The crowd sang with me. Itwasn’t just a performance—it was a conversation with everyone who ever questioned if I could stand in the spotlight alone.

And then cameCtrl Alt Delete. I gave attitude, vocals, and range. The beat hit and so did the crowd, clapping along. By the time I finished, I was breathless and floating. As the applause roared, I looked over and caught Nasseem clapping with a look of reverence, pride, and desire.

Dinner afterward was lowkey.The six of us sat tucked into a private room at Carbone, a little buzzed off the high of the night and a few glasses of wine. Royal was already halfway through his second plate of spicy rigatoni, moaning like it was doing something to him. Averi nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Y’all were fire up there,” Creed said, grinning as he lifted his glass in a toast. “I mean…co-hosting and performing? That ain’t light work.”

Nasseem added, “Nah, for real. Ya’ll bodied that shit.”

I glanced at him, fighting a smile as I took a sip of my wine. “You sure you not just biased?”

He tilted his head, eyes locked on me like I was the only one in the room. “I mean, I am. But even if I wasn’t? Y’all still shut that shit down.”

“Y’all see Twitter?” Averi said, pulling out her phone. “People are wildin’. One of these fan accounts said we need our own late-night talk show.”

Royal leaned over to look at her screen. “They ain’t wrong. I’d tune in.”

I pulled out my own phone and scrolled through the tags. The videos were everywhere—clips of our performances,skits, behind-the-scenes footage of us dancing in the hallway. The hashtags #TheCovenFarewell and #EgyptOnSNL were both trending.

“Look at this,” I said, holding my phone up so Nas could see. “Somebody tweeted, ‘Egypt Armstrong is the definition of show up and shut it DOWN.’”

He grinned, grabbing my jaw and planting a kiss on my lips. “Damn right.”

“I’m just proud of all of us,” Serenity said, her voice a little softer now. “Like… we started at Tisch sharing ramen and dreams. And now look at us, look at what we have built.” There was a hush that fell over the table for a second—one of those reflective silences that said more than words ever could.

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