Page 154 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

Most of the time, this building gets traffic at night. I notice the street sweeper gawk when I punch in the code to the building. I seal myself inside the building, deadbolting the door and turning on all the lights. When I check the security screen and see I’m good, I bring my phone back to my ear.

“You still there?”

“Always.”

“You are so smooth,” I playfully snap. “Anyway, I shared my location with you because I’m locking myself in this studio until I have a hit single. I won’t be on my phone, but I know you and your raging control issues need to know I’m okay, so as long as it’s on, and my lo is here, I’m straight. Sheisty’s wife’s uncle owns it, and the code changes every time it’s rented out, so only me and the guys have the code. I think it’ll only be a few days, but something’s gotta give. I have a hosting next month and I wanna be able to perform something.”

“Look at you, communicating and shit,” he muses. I make sure the back door is double locked before going into the room in between the front and back. The walls are a royal blue fur, the floor some type of soundproofing. The booth itself is small like a closet, but I put my stuff down on the corner couch before taking the middle one.

“You gotta eat, too, Snow. You already been down for some days.”

“I’ma order some groceries, they have a full kitchen here. And then I’m sure the guys will be popping in, especially Tripp, so I’ll have him bring food.”

“Hmm,” he grunts, and I imagine his fine self sitting up from his bed. “You sure I can’t come and give you some inspiration? Some studio love?”

“Corny ass,” I cackle, taking my iPad out of my purse. “No. I need to be in the zone, and you’re a distraction.”

“I thought you can’t focus without me?”

“Well today, it’s the opposite. Today I feel like… we should just be on the boat, back in Belize, watching the sun move from one side to the other. So I need to make coming back worth it.”

“Nah, Snow. We not doing that.” My phone beeps in my ear, and I answer his facetime call.

There Rico is, his pecs and arm muscles jumping as he rubs the sleep out of his good eye. His tongue swipes across his lips before he mashes them and glares at me.

“Listen real good. You the coldest muthafucka I ever met. The only person I know that truly can do whatever she set her mind to. You always tell me to look at what I’ve accomplished, but on Baby yo ass here for a reason, Snow. Leave it all in the booth. Let these niggas know who the fuck Wynter Snow is, and why she the Ice Princess. Yeah, I could be fucking you on the beach, but you meant to be way more than just Lady Luney. It’ll be plenty of time for us to do us. Right now, you need to show anyone that counted you out why that’s the worst thing they could do. Starting with that one bitch throwing shots in her wack ass song. On my mama, you don’t throw some shots back, I’m sending real shots through that bitch window.”

“Ugh,” I groan, rubbing my hardened nipples. “You know it gets me going when you talk like that, Daddy.”

“I can get you right to yo new single. Don’t forget to eat and sleep, or I’ma send real shots to you, too. And hit me later on tonight. Mars is going with Ju, and I gotta handle some shit for this, uh, foundation shit I’m a part of.”

My face scrunches, before I snort. “Oh, you got a job?”

“Fuck you. Be good. Don’t let yo ‘twin’ get you in trouble.” He blows me a kiss before hanging up in my face, and like a loser, I place my phone on my chest and fall back into the couch.

Richard Alvarez. He can cut a bitch down. But he can also lift a bitch higher than she’s ever been.

It takes another three days of nonstop recording before I have my single. Three full days; seventy-two hours. Trippy came an hour after I got there, and has been with me the most–him and Red. Three days of us dissecting sounds, drums, samples, and lyrics. PC comes on day two, and after an hourslong writing session fueled by some delicious meat lovers pizza, I strike gold. I’m so excited I fall over calling Grime. He takes his time coming, but when he hears what I have, he laces me with a verse so fire I can’t decide whose verse I like the most. I offer to share the rights, but he looks at me crazy before leaving with PC.

Red captures the mixing on Live, and has me spit my verse on day three. It goes viral immediately, and completed with a picture of me and Grime in the stu for cover art, I release it to the masses seventy-three hours after I pulled up to this building.

I’m floating. This high… I haven’t felt this in a long time. Pride. It has me weightless on the couch while my devices continue to go off. The guys are outside in their cars smoking, but I think they’re also giving me time to just be.

Usually, I’d just be with a blunt. On the floor, sometimes with Shaddy, sometimes Grime will sit next to me. And I just bask in the second, not even the moment. The second that things align, and I’m reminded that music is what I’m supposed to be doing.

I don’t do it for every song. That would be crazy. But some songs. My first single. My single with Shad, my first mixtape, I have to just be.

Right now, too, I have to just be.

My other phone vibrates next to me. The one that has no social media, so I know it’s a text. I swipe it and glance at the screen.

Rico

Wynter Snow back and the price just went up

The Coldest fr

I’m about to grab my phone when the last name I’d expect to see takes over my screen, indicating a facetime.