Page 18 of This is Law

I stood out here for a few more minutes, and just when I was getting ready to head back into the studio, the door to get to the back, where all the recording studios were opened. It was a group of niggas that walked in. The loud smell of weed could be smelled as they walked to the back. A lot of the dudes, I’ve probably seen them before in passing, or I knew of them, but one nigga, I actually knew him personally. It was Kross. I went to high school with Kross. When I was a freshman, he was a junior. I haven’t seen him in a while though. I remember when I first started dancing, he would come and watch me perform. We’ve fucked a few times in the past too. He was always getting in trouble with the law, so I know that he had been locked up, and he’d just gotten out not too long ago. I had my eyes on him, and he probably felt me staring him down because he looked up from the niggas that he was with, and he smiled, pulled up his sagging jeans, and he made his way over to me.

Kross would move around like he was mad at the world, so a lot of times, he was always mugging. To see him smiling this time, showing off the beautiful smile that he had, that let me know that he was genuinely happy to see me. Because of thesmile, you could see the top and bottom grillz that he had in his mouth. I was still young, and I still had a thing for hood niggas with gold teeth, and tattoos, so the golds that he had in his mouth didn’t bother me. I thought it was very attractive.

Kross was tall. He was probably 6’2 or something around that range. He was slim though. His body type was the type that I loved. I loved a tall, skinny nigga because those were usually the ones with big dicks, and they knew how to use it too. The few times that we had sex; the sex was out of this world. Kross knew how to fuck. He had brown skin, and because he was in a short sleeve shirt, you could see both sleeves of tattoos that he had. His eyes were a little red, so I’m sure that he was high. We used to smoke together and talk about our childhood whenever we got around each other in the past.

“What’s good, superstar? I saw that you had a hosting coming up this weekend atDiamonds,and I swear I was going to pull up on you out there. I don’t need you thinking that a nigga came home, and I’m acting funny. You know you going to always hold a special place in my heart,” Kross announced the second he made it over to me.

I smiled at his words, and he extended his hands out, wanting me to walk into his embrace. I took a couple of steps up, so that I could be right in front of him, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, and his went for the small of my back. I could smell the weed on him, with a little bit of the cologne that he probably sprayed on him to drown out the scent of the weed. You could tell that the two of us missed one another, and that we needed this hug because we stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms for about one minute. I was the one to pull away, and when I did, I took a couple of steps back, while looking at him.

“You look good. You should have been picking up some weight while you were locked up. You were supposed to comehome, full of steel,” I joked, and when I said that, he laughed, while shaking his head.

He pulled up the black shirt that he was wearing, and you could see his jeans that were hanging off his waist, and the gun that sat right there on the side of his waist.

“I don’t need all those muscles and shit. Not when I got this. Take a nigga head off in a second,” he told me, and I shook my head at him because from the looks of things, he might have just came back home and was going to be on the same shit. I knew that I wasn’t a saint, and I still fucked up till this day, but Kross was worst. This nigga stayed in trouble, and I really did want better for him.

“You’re a felon. Why you even got that shit on you?” I asked him.

“You know it’s a dirty world, baby. Miami one of the dirtiest cities to live in. I’ve done some fucked up shit to my share of niggas around the way, so I know it’s plenty of motha fuckas that want me dead. I can’t get caught lacking, so I gotta always have this shit on me,” he voiced. I just nodded my head. On one hand, I understood where he came from, as far as him needing the protection, but at the same time, he was putting his freedom at risk each day that he left out of his house with that gun on him.

Besides, the kind of niggas that he ran with were niggas that were always up to no good. One traffic stop, getting pulled over at the wrong time, and having the police search him, and the car, and now he has to take his ass right back to prison.

“You in a session right now?” he asked me.

“Nah. Litty in there. I’m just here supporting her. You know her?” I asked him.

“Yeah. A couple of niggas put me on to her while I was locked up. She hard. I like listening to her. She up there with you,” he complimented me, making me smile.

“Yeah, that’s my girl. I been here for a couple of hours, sitting in her session with her. I don’t plan on staying that much longer,” I said, and he nodded to that.

“Let’s go outside, and chill for a second. You still smoke, or Hollywood made you stop doing that shit? I know when you get big, and famous that motha fuckas be trying to change you and shit, so it’s okay for you to hit the blunt with me?” he asked, and I laughed.

“Yeah. Come on. We can go out back. It’s tables, and shit out there,” I said, and he was cool with that, so I turned, leading the way.

I took the double doors out of the back entrance of the building. Once we got out here, there were tables out here, just like I knew it would be. I chose to sit down on the bench at the table, while Kross sat down on the table, and he put his feet on the bench. He moved fast, going in his pocket, and he pulled out everything that he needed to roll a perfect blunt. My eyes were on him as he did that.

“Ay, I remember they had your shit playing in prison, while we were in the rec room. Niggas had that shit blasting, and they were rapping it word for word. You have a distinct voice. I love that southern Miami drawl on you. You talk like Trina did back in the days. That shit was my weakness when I first met you, so when I heard the song, and somebody spitting like that on the beat, it’s like my mind told me that it might have been you, but I still asked to confirm. The nigga that was playing it, I asked who it was, and he told me Autumn that used to dance. Him, and every nigga in that bitch was hollering out about you being up next, and that you were going to represent for the crib. You used to always tell me that you could rap, but when I would tell you to spit a verse in front of me, you would never do it. I’m proud of you, yo. If nobody ever told you that shit, just know I’m proud, and you putting on for Miami, making us happy,” his wordstouched me because this was the only shit that I wanted from my grandma. Just to tell me that she saw me, and she was happy for me. That would go a long way.

Kross’s words couldn’t have come at a much better time because I’d just gotten off the phone with my grandma, and I hated the way the conversation ended. It put me down a little bit, and that’s why I was happy with what he’d just poured into me.

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I let him know, and he waved me off with his hand, like the things that he’d just said to me weren’t a big deal for him.

“What made you finally get out there and show the world your talent?” he wanted to know.

“Shit, I be seeing people go viral for the stupidest shit on social media. You got motha fuckas out here that’s becoming famous for eating on camera, doing story times about the fucked-up relationship that they were in at one point, or just the most random shit. I had a notebook full of raps that I’ve written over the years. One day, I was in my car, outside the strip club, waiting to clock in, and I decided to just pull my phone out, and record me rapping. I posted it onTikTok,and I went on about my business, not thinking anything of it. Probably like two hours into my shift, the other dancers were coming up to me, telling me that I was going viral. All kinds of people were reposting the videos, liking, and sharing it. I knew I had so many other raps that I had written, so I would post a video just about every day, and eventually, labels started reaching out. I just went with the label that I felt like I would shine at. I love this rap thit though. It’s therapeutic for me, but I’ll be lying if I said that they not trying to change me. I feel like I’m too much of a tough bitch at times, and I’m too blunt. Gotta walk on fuckin eggshells in this industry, so that your ass won’t get canceled,” I shared, and after he took a pull of the blunt, he handed it to me. I was quick to takeit from him, put the blunt to my lips, and I took a long pull, and then released the smoke out into the air.

“Yeah, I see that they trying to change you, man. I saw little clips of the live video that you did, when you spoke on gay people. Ion see nothing wrong with what you said. That bitch in your comments was trying to be funny, asking you if you were dating that girl on the basketball team. You spoke on how you felt about that shit. The old Autumn would never have apologized for that. When I saw the video where you went live, and apologized, I hated that. Crazy because when I pulled up on you this weekend at the club, I was going to bring that up. You a real ass bitch, Autumn. Don’t let them change that part of you,” he said, and I nodded.

“I can still be real. I just gotta watch what the fuck I be saying,” I said.

“You must have a PR team or something? Your PR team forced you to apologize?” he asked, and that question made me laugh, as I thought about Yaya.

I loved Yaya with every piece of me. To know me, and to know how tough I was, and to know that the word love wasn’t something that I just threw around so easily, it meant a lot for me to say that I loved her. I didn’t grow up, telling people that I loved them. Remember, my grandma didn’t raise me that way. I knew I loved Yaya when it didn’t feel like business with us. She treated me like I was her little sister, and I could tell that she had my best interests at heart. She’s rooting for me more than anyone has ever rooted for me in my life. She doesn’t miss a day to tell me how proud of me she was, and she doesn’t miss a day to lay into my ass whenever I fuck up either. She kept her foot on my neck, and I needed that. If I didn’t have her, I knew that I would have already fallen face first into this industry, and drowned a long time ago, but she was saving me from that, making sure that it didn’t happen. She was always telling methat no matter how much I fucked up, she was going to be right there to clean up the mess, so that I wouldn’t have to go back to the strip club, using my body to earn money.

“I do. I’m signed to Yaya’s firm. You probably know her. She used to be married to Law. I know your dad raised him,” I shared, and when I said that, there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if he’d gotten annoyed with me saying that.

I knew that Law and Kross had their issues. I didn’t know the root of their problems though. Back when me, and Kross were dealing with each other, I remember him telling me that they didn’t really get along, and a big part of that was because he claimed that Law thought he was better than him. I wasn’t a psychologist or anything like that, but I think Kross is a little jealous of the relationship that his dad has with Law. The two of them were very close.

“I hate that nigga,” he released, and I didn’t expect him to say that, so I laughed. He sounded like a big ass kid, claiming to hate someone for something small.

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