Page 1 of I Found Love

CHAPTER ONE

Sanchez Dailey.

“Chez, really?” Jionne, my assistant, said and sighed heavily. “I really liked the first, fourth and seventh little boy.”

“Glad you did, but I said no, G.” I chuckled and took a pull from my blunt.

I rarely smoked in my studio because Nai was by the spot too often, but a nigga was stressed. I was set to start shooting the video for my new singleRoad To Richesin two days, and I had nobody to play the younger version of myself.

Over the last two years a lot of shit had changed for me. My team had become bigger, hence me now having an assistant, I had an A&R and PR as well. I hired a couple of managers and some mo’ shit. I’d successfully done two tours in the states and was planning to do a world tour soon. I signed some new fire artists, Ace being the newest, and I had two new singers, a male and female. I was really trying to make my shit bigger than big.

“Then who, Chez? Because we only have two days…” She frowned.

“I know how long we got.” I cut my eyes at her. “I got somebody.”

Her frown deepened. “Who?”

“You’ll see.” I said and stood, tossing the roach into the ashtray. “Listen for my call in like an hour.”

“Okay, but if you had someone this whole time, why did you have me host auditions?”

“Because it’s ya job.” I chuckled. “And I was hoping the lil’ homie would come through, but since he didn’t, I’m gon’ push up on his lil’ ass.”

I didn’t wait for her to reply before exiting the room then building. It was early as hell in the afternoon and I knew his lil’ ass was just now getting out of school, so I made my way to his crib once I was in my ride.

When I made it, I took the steps two at a time until I reached the door, then I knocked and waited for someone to answer. The door creaked open seconds later showcasing just the person I wanted to see.

“Fuck you ain’t audition for, lil’ nigga?” I asked, playfully jacking him up.

“Chill out man.” He laughed, trying to block my playful jabs. “Chill.”

“Naw.” I gently body slammed him on the porch. “My fuckin’ feelin’s hurt.”

“Bruh, okay.” He laughed. “My bad!”

Laughing, I stepped back and pulled him up to his feet before I dusted him off.

“For real, Bryson, why didn’t you come?”

I was still just as close to him and his homeboy’s as I was when I stayed with my grandmother. We still owned the crib and I still let them cut the grass and shit for us. They called me all the time begging for tickets to concerts and shit and asking to come on stage with me and the crew when we were local. I let them because they were like lil’ brothers to a nigga.

“I don’t know man.” He dropped his head. “You told me that I was gon’ be able to play the part when you filmed that video, but you had auditions.”

“I had to make it fair, G.” I chuckled. “I was gon’ pick you off top though. Cry baby ass.”

“You ain’t say that, man.” He grinned. “I thought you played me.”

“You the homie.” I shook my head. “I promised you that shit, I just wanted to play the part and do the auditions. Been said you, Trey and De’Shaun were gon’ play me, Trell and Turk.”

“You gon’ pay us?” He glanced up at me, smiling slyly.

“Yeah, nigga.” I laughed. “Y’all lil’ asses stay in my pockets.”

“You got it.”

“Fa sho.” I nodded. “And as long as I do, y’all gon’ be straight.”

I looked out for them often. Bryson’s parents had a lil’ bread so he always had nice shit, but circumstances were different for the others, especially De’Shaun. Trey’s mom was straight and at the very least kept him up and shit. De’Shaun’s mom had it a lil’ tougher so I often bought him gear so he’d be fly like his homeboys and kept food and shit in their crib to take the load off of her because I knew how tough shit was for Big Ma when I was coming up.

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