At 9:30 pm, Reginald found himself in front of one of the hottest new clubs in New York City, Sol. Also known as Club Sol, the Sol Club, and many other local monikers. From the outside, it seemed like a large modest brick building. But you knew something major was going on inside, because of the line wrapped halfway around the block.
Reginald walked up to the front door, as instructed by Carmen. "What's your name," asked the door attendent. "Reginald Morgan," said Reginald. "Get the fuck outta here," laughed the attendent. "You that nigga that sings 'My Vow' right," asked the attendent. Reginald was feeling a little embarrassed. "Yeah, that's me," he said with a nervous grin. "Go on in man," he said as Reginald walked by. "Got damn! Reggie Morgan," yelled the attendent.
As Reginald walked into the club, saw hundreds of people on the dance floor. He opened his cell and dialed Carmen's number. He could barely hear the phone ring. "Hello," screamed a voice on the other end of the phone. "Carmen," Reginald yelled back. "Where you at?" "I'm in VIP. Hold on, I'll come get you. Where are you," asked Carmen. "I'm at the entrance, I'll stay right here," he finished.
After a couple minutes, he saw Carmen come around the corner. She looked amazing. "Damn, girl you look good," Reginald said as he hugged Carmen. "Thanks Reggie, and you're looking rather dapper yourself," she said, as she rubbed her hand on his jacket covered chest. He smiled as she led him back to the VIP section.
When they walked in, Reginald was overwhelmed. He saw so many celebrities, singers, actors, athletes, socialites, people he only saw on television.
Carmen led Reginald to a large round table with a booth surrounding it. As Reginald sat down with Carmen, he recognized both of the people at the table. Reginald saw Spit Fye, one of most successful hip hop stars of all time. He had six consecutive platinum albums, one of them actually went diamond. Everybody in the business wanted to work with him because they thought he was the best, bar none. But he only worked with a selected few. The other person he recognized was William Jones. William was a running back for the New York Jets. He led the NFL in rushing for three straight years. He also led the league in touchdowns. Jones was amazing on the field, but his work off the field is what set him apart. He routinely donated 25% of his money to charities and he spent a lot of time working directly with children at risk. Reginald really admired Jones.
Reginald shook hands with everyone at the table. "You all, this is Reggie Morgan, a bright new star in the music industry," said Carmen. "Nice to meet you," Reginald said with a smile. Carmen whispered into Reginald's ear, "These guys say they can really help your career, for a cost," she said. Reginald whispered back, "And what is that cost?" "I'm not sure. Very few people can pay the price, most people don't make it. When they heard you were coming on my show, they called me and asked if you'd come with me and meet them here," Carmen whispered. "I think it's like a secret society-type thing," said Carmen. Reginald was curious, but also very suspicious.
"Enough with the motherfuckin' whispering," snapped Spit Fye. "Reggie, have a drink," he said. He poured Reginald some of whatever he was drinking. Reginald took the drink and thanked Spit Fye. "Reginald, we have a deal for you," said William. "We want you to be on Spit's label. I know you just released your first CD. It's well on it's way to going platinum. Congratulations on that, by the way," said William. "Thanks," Reginald said curiously. "I will buy out your contract and be your manager for only 5% of your earnings over the course of your contract with Spit. You can work directly with him, and he'll be your mentor. Everything this man touches becomes successful," William said as he put his hand on Spit's shoulder. "Look here, son. I can produce your music personally, I can make sure you get paid more than the nickels that you're getting from Image, and I can do it all for only a small, one time fee," said Spit Fye. "What's that fee," asked Reginald.
"Carmen, can you excuse us, sweet heart," asked William. Carmen sqeezed Reginald's shoulder as she got up and walked away. "It's not about the money," said William.
"Reg," yelled a familiar voice. Reginald looked around, and saw Big Mic standing behind him. "Mike, what's up man," asked Reginald. Reginald noticed that Mike had a couple of beautiful women with him, as usual. "Jamal," said Mike to Spit Fye, "long time no see!" "What the fuck you want, nigga," asked Spit Fye in a disgusted tone. "And you don't know me well enough to call me 'Jamal', so watch your fuckin' tongue before it gets cut out," demanded Spit Fye. "Michael, can you excuse us," William said calmly. "Naw, I can't excuse you, because I'm talking with my boy here," Mike said. "It's cool Mike, give me a minute to talk to these guys and we'll catch up," said Mike.
"Mind ya fuckin' business Mikey, get outta here," said Spit Fye. "Reggie, I know you weren't fuckin' with no girls on the tour, but do you have to take it this far," asked Mike. Reginald was puzzled. "What are you talking about man," asked Reginald. "These niggas are faggots," Mike said softly to Reginald. "They want to fuck you," said Mike. "Michael, you don't know what you're talking about," William said. "Shut the fuck up Mikey," said Spit Fye. At this point, the group was making a scene. Everybody in the VIP section was standing around watching.
"Reggie, let me guess. William's going to buy out your contract and re-sign you to Jamal's punk ass label. They promised you more money, right? Yeah, they sign you to a lot of money, but it's all based on sales. If you don't sell enough, they won't have to pay you. And, you know what else? They'll make it so you have to pay them back the buyout money before you can sign anywhere else," Mike said. "I heard this whole bullshit scheme before, because they tried to use it on me," Mike yelled. Spit Fye stood up, and reached into his jacket for his gun. "Oh what, you gonna shoot me in the VIP, Jamal," asked Mike sarcastically. Mike began to laugh. "Plus, nigga, I forgot about the small one time fee," said Mike. "Michael, would you shut the fuck up," yelled William. "Naw bitch, I won't," said Mike.
Reginald sat in his seat nervous and stunned. He saw the hatred in Spit Fye's face and the fear in the face of William. "What in the fuck have I gotten myself into," Reginald though. Reginald stood up and put his hand on Mike's chest, pushing him away. "Let's go man," said Reginald. "Naw, you need to hear this, everybody needs to hear this," Mike yelled. "Reggie, they gonna take that fee out your ass, literally, buncha faggots," yelled Mike. The onlookers gasped in disbelief. William's head dropped into his hands. "Fuck you," yelled Spit Fye as he pulled his gun out and fired.
Ten minutes later, sirens were blaring throughout the street. In front of the club, there were police cars, an ambulance, and multiple television stations. Rumors spread quickly in the entertainment world. But when a real story breaks, the paparazzi comes out in full force.
Carmen, sat on a bar stool in the nearly empty club. Her make up was running from the tears she had been shedding. She rubbed her eyes, as a detective came to her to get her statement. As she looked up, from giving her statement to the police, she saw an officer hauling off a hand-cuffed Spit Fye. He didn't resist. He seemed almost calm as the officer escorted him out of the club.
She looked over across the room, where she saw William Jones speaking with another detective. He was probably giving his statement as well. "God, what is happening," she thought to herself.
From her home in Los Angeles, Yvonne received a phone call from Andrea to check turn on the 8 o'clock news. Yvonne turned on the television and sat in shocked disbelief as the newscaster spoke solemnly.
"Tonight we come to you from, Sol, an upscale club in Manhattan, where there has been a tragic loss in the entertainment industry. Twenty Nine year old Michael Hall, also known as rapper, 'Big Mic' was shot and killed during an argument. Also injured in the incident was 22 year old Reginald Morgan, who police say was shot by accident. The bullet fired from another rapper, Jamal Wilson known as Spit Fire, grazed Morgan's shoulder and hit Hall in the throat. Apparently, the shots were fired after an argument escalated between Hall and Wilson. We'll have more on this story as it is available," said the reporter.
Reginald sat on the back of an ambulance as they stitched up his shoulder. "Mister Morgan, are you alergic to antibiotics," asked the paramedic. "No," Reginald said softly. The paramedic took the needle and gave him a shot of penicilin. Reginald looked at the club entrance. He felt a vibration on his hip. He reached down and saw his cell phone was cracked from his fall, but it still worked. "Hello," he said quietly as he opened the phone. "Reggie, are you okay," asked Yvonne. "Yeah," Reginald said, as tears streamed down his face. The medics were wheeling Mike out of the club in a body bag. "He was just looking out for me," said Reginald. Yvonne sat quietly, as tears began to form in her eyes. "He took that bullet because of me and my stupidity," Reginald said. "I have to take care of something, I'll call you back," Reginald said as he hung up his phone.
He jumped down off the ambulance as he saw Spit Fye walk by in cuffs. "Hey bitch," Reginald said as Spit Fye turned to look. Reginald drew back and decked him as both Spit Fye and the cop fell to the ground. "You wanna hit me while I got on cuffs, you fuckin' pussy," yelled Spit Fye with a mouth full of blood. "Let me get out of the motherfuckin cuffs, I will take your life, boy," he said violently as he was jerked up from the ground by two cops. "Morgan, get back," said one of the detectives. "Come get it big man," yelled Reginald. "When I get out, I am gonna take it out of your ass," yelled Spit Fye as they put him into the cruiser.
Reginald stood in silence as the cameras flashed in his direction.
To Be Continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment