Page 12 of Love U Down II

“Alright.” I took a large bite of my pizza then dropped my slice on the plate. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Everything,” I shrugged. “Rapping ain’t yo’ fucking ministry, so if Dashawn isn’t going to commit to ghostwriting for you, you need to figure out your next move.”

“So, what? You’re trying to job fair me, Drix?”

“That’s right. What do you want to do with your life, Alan? Live off Dashawn? Keep selling and popping pills? What’s up?” I lightly knocked my knuckles on the table while he looked off.

He shrugged.

“I don’t know, man. I mean, I’ve been working on this music shit but…”

“Why?” I deadpanned.

“What?”

“Why have you been focused on music? Because me and Rome do music and your brother is a fucking beast with his pen?” I didn’t wait for a response. “You ain’t got to be an artist to make bread, but if you want to be in the music industry, niggas need producers, choreographers, photographers, social media assistants, security, all kind of shit when they’re trying to make it.” I took a drink from my cup and shook it afterwards. “I brought you along today so you could see if you’re interested in anything. You can do whatever you want, but I can see you shining in three spots right now: the studio, designing, and at the building.” I set my cup down. “You still draw?”

Alan whistled.

“Shit. I haven’t in a while.”

“But you still got it?”

“It’s like riding a bike, man. You never lose it.”

“Good because that’s the designing part. I got you an audition.”

“For what?” His eyebrows knitted together.

“Those headphones I’m collaborating on. We need a design.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. One design. Three grand. Try it out, and if you like it, there’s a lot of other shit I could pay you to design while I’m building this label. If not, I’ve got two other spots I can put you.”

“The studio and the building?” he questioned.

“That’s right.” I took a bite of my pizza. “Yo’ ass can’t rap, but you’ve got an ear for the background shit. We could brush up on your producing skills, have you make some beats and let you practice on some of my upcoming shit.”

“Oh yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Because I remember you telling Merch to ignore my notes.”

“Because I was making notes.” I took another drink. “Your notes weren’t bad. Mine were just better.”

Alan chuckled at that.

“And what about the building?”

“Pops is gon’ need an assistant. My mom takes care of my nieces and Pops is in that chair. He’s going to be handling most of the work being done on the building, but when he needs someone there in person or to check some shit out, I’m sure he’d appreciate you being there to pick up that slack.”

“That’s cool.” He nodded. “I can do that.”

“Which one?”

“All of it.” He grinned. “I can draw some shit for your headphones tonight. I’ll just be a call away if your pops needs me. We can hit the studio when you get back.” He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, then scoffed.

“What?” I took another bite of my pizza and grabbed a napkin to wipe my hands. “Where’s your head, A?”