Page 47 of Juliet's Echo

But real shit, that wasn’t the only reason I was hesitant about the opportunity.

Truth be told, bratty ass was avoiding me.

Before this, I’d always see her, even if it was just her smacking me in the back of the head as she walked by. But since that night, nothing.

She even missed classes, and her know-it-all ass never missed classes.

We were partnered on this assignment, and she only communicated through email. No random arguments. Nosarcastic comments. No threats against my life because I disagreed with some point she was making.

Nothing.

Did she hate a nigga that much?

Should I even care?

After all, she was the most annoying privileged person I had ever met in my life. She was like one of those bad-ass kids teachers secretly prayed would stay home sick. But just like those bad-ass kids, she was always the one you missed the most. The one you talked about years later. The one you never forgot. The one you'd drop everything to help without even thinking about it.

Her energy was contagious. People naturally shifted toward her, wanting to be included in whatever joke she was telling or whatever trouble she was about to start.

She moved through life fearless and confident and made her disability look like a superpower.

Add on the fact that she was smart, fine as hell…

A nigga was down bad.

Because somewhere between wanting to argue and wanting to avoid her, I had developed a habit of wanting her.

And that shit had become impossible to ignore.

“Earth to Psalm.” Christian snapped his fingers in my face.

“Look, I fuck with what y’all saying. I do. But I’m a man, and my pride comes first. I got a few hours to consider,” I responded.

“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” Christian quoted.

“Amen,” Mega agreed.

“Fuck outta here,” I said, laughing with my boys.

HUSH Studios was exactly what I expected it to be.

Massive beyond what the eyes could take in at one time. Some rooms were open to the public with glass walls, while others were structured privately. Top-of-the-line music equipment sat everywhere. Award plaques and Grammy statues lined the walls like trophies in a museum.

The only thing that surprised me was how quiet it was.

I expected phones to be ringing, music blasting, and people running around in constant panic mode because their maniac of a boss demanded perfection daily.

I was completely wrong.

Besides the light chatter of the office manager, Kendall, at the front desk, you could hear a mouse piss on cotton.

Many of the glass-enclosed rooms were filled with people obviously working on music. Their heads were bobbing, music board controls were moving, and bass bars were rising and dropping, proving sound was being delivered.

Yet somehow...

nothing could be heard.

“Feel free to look around while you wait for Mr. Everette. But don’t get lost now,” Kendall said with a wink.