Page 93 of Are You Going to Love Me

Keon quieted his laughter. “Yeah, she might’ve been something…creative, I don’t know. Either way I’m ain’t callin’ you no got damnBransheer, nigga. Brody, it is. You affiliated?”

“Trae Way off of 90thand Sequoia,” Brody replied.

“Still running with them niggas or you done?”

“No one from the set even looked after my moms while I was in here. Fuck them,” he answered.

Maximus looked over, waiting for Keon’s nod. “We straight or we gon’ stand here a little longer?”

Keon gave Brody a once over before turning to head back in the Sprinter. “Yeah, we good. Bring yo ass on,Bransheer.”

“He smile?” Brody questioned.

“Only at his lady. Nigga serious but he’s holding all this shit together. Trust him with my life. You know I'm finna trust you with that shit too. No bullshit behind pussy or no pussy ass niggas, heard me?”

“Heard you.”

“Aight let’s get yo big ass out them sweats and into some fly shit, nigga.”

Hours later, after Maximus and Keon helped reintroduce Brody back into the real world – haircut, new clothes, shoes, and a good meal. The trio was roaming through the thick crowd of Cypher 106.

“Damn, I know I’m here to work and shit, but the candy,” Brody muttered, making Maximus chuckle.

“Taste all the fuckin’ candy you want when you off the clock, nigga.”

One of the hottest nightclubs in the desert. Artists like Jesipi the Don, Jay Lucci, Zaim, and a host of others had graced the stage and the VIP at the beginning of their careers. It was a known fact that if you could get Cypher 106 to cosign you, you and your career were going up.

Brody followed close to Maximus, his eyes staying vigilant on the crowd. The DJ spun a record, mixing it with Maximus’ latest hit “Poppi’s Girl”, turning the club into a frenzy ofwhooping excitement. When the trio entered the VIP, Maximus was greeted by a raspy LO-tainted voice.

“Muthafuckin’ Trae Way MB!” Jay Lucci greeted, removing his Azul-wrapped blunt from his lips and holding his hands up.

Maximus played cool, but the fact that Jay Lucci knew him had him leaping inside. “Yo, Jay Lucci, what’s good, nigga?”

“Ain’t shit. You hear this shit?” Jay Lucci asked, nodding his head toward the crowd and pointing to the above speakers. “That’s you, nigga. What the fuck you finna do with it?”

Their respective crews fused into one, leaving the two to talk over the music in the middle of the section. Hell, Lucci could’ve pulled Maximus’s collar in the middle of the street, and he was going to stop to listen.

“I’m trying to dominate this shit. Put the album out, tour, buy back the hood,” Maximus rumbled off. “Businesses, all that.”

“That’s the shit I wanted to hear.” Jay Lucci took a draft of his blunt. “Sounds good, but you got to stay out of your way then. Don’t let these pussy ass niggas play with you and keep yourself out the bullshit. These niggas gon’ try and trip you out your bag. Out there and in here.” Lucci pointed back to the crowd, then to his head. “So, whatever the fuck you got going on that’s going to affect your head, keep that shit clear.”

“Heard you.”

“What’s up with your label situation?” Jay Lucci asked, skipping past the bullshit small talk which Maximus appreciated.

“I mean it’s cool as far as I know.”

Julius smirked. “You want a whole lot of shit without knowing your label situation. Don’t let these fuckas fuck you. You and your management are green. No hate or nothing. All I’m saying is, I would hate to see your ass get stalled right before takeoff over some bad business bullshit.”

“Heard you.”

“Bet. Have your people reach out to my lady. She’ll make sure your shit is straight and help y’all navigate this industry. Owning your masters, your name, and everything else is the goal.”

Maximus was soaking up the game, forgetting they were in the middle of the VIP section. It wasn’t until the DJ shouted him out and called him down to the stage that he recalled.

“Ay, we got all night to chop it up. Go do your shit, nigga,” Jay Lucci encouraged.

The crowd chanted, “Trae Way, Trae Way, Trae Way!”

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