Caught Me Dreaming Read online

  Caught Me Dreaming

  Sophia Jenkins

  Copyright © 2018 by Chuck

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without written permission from the publisher.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter One

  Ugh! Another day, another dead end. I just left out of yet another meeting with another record label, who loved my voice and my look but didn’t think I was the “right fit” for them.

  Damn! I’m so sick of this shit! I think.

  I know I have the talent, but no one wants to take me seriously, just because when you put Neeci Lee in Google the only things that come up are my social media and my YouTube channel. So, what, I don’t have the experience? I have the chops.

  Whatever! Let me introduce myself, in case you didn’t know. My name is Shanisha Lee, but everybody calls me Neeci. I’m B-more born and bred, and I am a star in the making. Just as soon as these clowns realize that I’m the next big thing.

  See, I could be up there with Rihanna and the like. All I need is the financial backing, and I’ll be set. Unfortunately, these dumb-ass labels in Baltimore don’t know a good thing when it’s staring them in the face. I don’t see how. I’m a young, fine, thick chick; plenty easy on the eyes. Got a fierce, short, sharp cut in my dark brown hair. I spent four and a half years at Morgan State University to make sure I was the full package.

  See, I got a deal straight outta high school, but the record label ended up folding a year later, so I decided to enroll in college while I figured out my next move. Plus, I wanted to have some know-how when I went in the meetings with the big wigs, so they couldn’t just be fuckin’ me over. I dedicated that whole time to sharpening my skills.

  I ain’t gonna lie though, I had me a good ass time. It took me an extra semester to graduate because I lost my mind for a little bit. But I found it in time to walk across the stage.

  As soon as I graduated, I got on the grind tryna get me another deal. Whole time I was in school, I was posting videos on YouTube of me singing, which got tens of thousands of views—quite a few…if I do say so myself. But I ain’t really got no official demo or nothin’ like that. What I do have, is the ability to sing my ass off—right on the spot. See, I grew up in the church, so I ain’t no stranger to singin’ on demand. I know I blow these people away, but nowadays, they damn near want you to walk in with hella fans and songs and shit right off the bat. Like damn, what I need you for then?

  All I know is something’s gotta give. I’m tired of workin’ this dead-end job in makeup sales. I don’t make no real money, and that shit ain’t cute. I’m a star; I ain’t supposed to be in no place like that. Hell, I would go up to New York, but I don’t have the money for that. So I gotta stay here and figure it out. Damn, let me call my bestie—Shawna. Her ass always knows how to make me feel better.

  I get in my lil’ beater, a 2000 Ford Taurus—which I named Whitney…after my favorite singer, Whitney Houston—and drive towards the crib. While driving, I find Shawna’s number in my phone and hit speakerphone. It barely rings before she answers, “Hey bitch! Where you at?”

  “Hoe, you know I had the meeting with those record execs today,” I respond.

  “Aw damn, I forgot! Well, you ain’t calling me screamin’, so I guess we still poor.”

  “Girl, they said the same shit they always say. I ain’t a ‘good fit’. I need to build more, and then maybe we can talk.”

  “What the fuck you need them for then?”

  “I was thinking the same shit. Girl, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “Yeah, ‘cuz that lil’ gig you got ain’t it, girl.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “I’m just sayin’. You spent all that money on school and shit, you supposed to be on. I told yo ass you shoulda just said fuck it and took that money and went to New York or LA or something.”

  “Yeah, whatever, Shawna. That shit doesn’t help me now.”

  * * *

  “In the meantime, in-between time, you need to find a better gig, so you can stop making that lil’ chicken change. I told you my cuz, Rhonda, can get you in at the daycare she works at. They make a lil’ bit more money.”

  “Girl, I ain’t tryna deal with no bad-ass kids. I got enough problems. Worst come to worse, I’ll just have to start using my degree…as much as I’d hate to.”

  “That’s tough, girl. But you know I got yo back no matter what. You gonna be up there with Beyoncé and shit sooner or later. And I’m gonna be right there with you, with my fine-ass husband, Michael B. Jordan.”

  I laugh at her crazy ass. “Okay hoe, in yo dreams. I love you though.”

  “You know I love you, too. But I gotta go, the game is finally over, and Russell’s gonna finally wanna pay me some attention. Hit me up later, girl.”

  “Aight. Bye.”

  I hang up the phone and keep rolling to my lil’ rundown apartment building. It’s a damn piece of shit, but it’s all I can afford. Hell, I can barely even afford this, but I live with my cousin Mocha and her little boy, so we’re making it. I park Whitney and go on up to my place, stopping to check the mail on my way. Ain’t a damn thing in there but some bills I can’t pay. I walk right in and throw that shit on the side table. I’ll deal with it when I feel like it.

  I smell something cooking, so I go see what Mocha’s got on the stove. One thing I love about Mocha, she can be loud, wild, and ratchet, but her ass knows how to throw down in the kitchen. And apparently in the bedroom too, with all that damn noise coming from in there.

  As soon as I step foot in the kitchen, the aroma of her famous fried chicken hits my nose. Mmm, mmm, mmmh! Everybody knows Mocha’s got some of the best fried chicken you’ll ever taste in your life. She could put Popeye’s out of business. My cuz is mean with it! I see she’s got some macaroni and cheese and greens cookin’ too. Aw shit! This is just what I need to pick my day up.

  As I approach the stove I say, “Girl, you got it smellin’ right up in here! What’s all this?”

  She says over her shoulder, “Well, cuz, I knew you had yo meetin’ today, so I wanted to make you something special. A celebration dinner if you got it, or a pick-me-up dinner if you didn’t.”

  * * *

  “Well, I didn’t get it, but just that smell is makin’ me feel better.”

  “Girl, you’ll get it eventually. All these non-singing ass hoes out here makin’ it, I know you can. You might just have to use the internet.”

  “Yeah, I know. These labels these days are trippin’.”

  “You might have to get on Love & Hip Hop or some shit.”

  “Girl, I am not tryna do that.”

  “Shit, why not? You can have me on there with you. Girl, we would have the shit lit.”

  “I know yo ass would. They gonna give you a show anyway, the way you be carryin’ on around Maryland. You a Real Housewives of Baltimore candidate for sure.”

  “And I will gladly take that check.”

  “Where Mook Man at?”

  “His triflin’ daddy finally remembered he was a father long enough to come get him. He’s supposed to have him all week, but I doubt it. He’s over there tryna impress some new hoe. If I didn’t need a break so bad, I’d go over there and turn up.”

  “Girl, let him be a daddy for once. Lord knows he’s barely been there. If he wanna play super dad for some goofy heffa, let him. She’ll see he don’t know what the hell he’s doing soon enough.”

  “Yeah, you right. Well
, take out the plates and stuff. The food’s almost ready.”

  I go to the cabinet and get us some plates, then grab some forks and sit down. I really do love Mocha. She can be loud and unruly, and she works my nerves, but she’s a good person. She always got my back. As soon as somebody says or does something she don’t like, she starts going off. She really could be on Bad Girls Club or something.

  I sit back and wait for her to fill the plates and say, “Girl, I gotta get me a better job. A singing job, maybe at one of these clubs or something around here.”

  “There’s a couple of new spots around here where you could probably get in,” she says. “Not a lot of places do live performances, but I’m sure if they hear that voice, they’ll break out the karaoke machine or something for ya.”

  “Imma get online and see what I can see. It’s probably something out by Morgan State. You know they’re tryna do the whole college town scene real heavy.”

  “Yep, try that.”

  After woofing down my dinner, then tryna stuff myself with seconds, I go in my room to get my laptop and see what the internet has for me. We don’t have much in this apartment, but I make sure we keep the wi-fi. I go through a few of the usual sites and don’t see nothin’, so I decide to look up the spots around Morgan State.

  I click through a couple of the old hangouts, but don’t see much promise. That is until I come across this new spot called the Coffee Cat Club. It seems to be a new café that all the people from the school go to now.

  Maybe they have something for me, I think.

  I decide to give them a call and see. I dial the number and wait. It rings three times and—just as I’m about to hang up—a woman answers and says, “Hello, this is the Coffee Cat Club. How may I help you?”

  “Hello,” I say. “My name is Shanisha Lee, and I’m calling to inquire about a job. I’m a singer, and I was hoping I could maybe come in and meet with somebody.”

  “Umm, okay. Can you hold on just a minute?”

  I sit, waiting for her to come back on the phone, hoping against hope that she would bring some good news. I can’t take much more bad. After what felt like forever, she came back on the line and said, “Mr. Antwon says that you can come in tomorrow at four o’clock for an interview.”

  “Thank you so much. I will see y’all then.”

  I hang up the phone and almost leap from my bed. Too geeked! I know the job ain’t guaranteed, but it is something to hope for. I get up from my bed and go run to tell Mocha.

  She’s in the kitchen washing the dishes. She turns around and looks at me like I’m crazy when I come stampeding in. I can feel my smile damn near breaking my face, as I say, “I got an interview with the Coffee Cat Club tomorrow. Imma have to leave work early, but shit, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Alright now, cuz!” Mocha says, sharing my excitement. “We on our way.”

  Mocha grabs me and hugs me with dishwater hands, but I don’t care. I’m just so happy. Finally, something is happening.

  I gotta go text Shawna and let her know. And my mama too. She raised me on her own, and I know she’s worried about me, so hopefully this’ll make her feel better. I’m definitely gonna tell her to pray extra hard for me tonight. I gotta get it.

  I don’t really sleep that well with all the excitement, but I get on up for work in the morning and head out. I try to make it a bit early, so it won’t look so bad when I leave early. Imma just work through my lunch, so I can go.

  Thankfully, I work right around the corner from campus, so it won’t take me any time to get there. I stop for a donut and a frappe before I make my way in. I pull in the parking lot outside of Northwood Shopping center and get out of the car.

  I think about walking around the rest of mall and maybe getting me something a bit more decent to wear, but I just go on into my lil’ shop. There’re a few stragglers, but no real traffic yet. It’s still early and ain’t nobody really tryna shop yet, so I just go clock in.

  Before I go behind the counter, I step into the office of my manager, Shay, and let her know Imma be leaving early today. Shay really don’t give a damn what I do, so she’s cool with it. Besides, I do what I’m supposed to, and my sales numbers are good. It’s because my face be beat every day, and these chicks think Imma hook them up, so they can look like me. Little do they know, I bought my products somewhere else. But that ain’t their business.

  Since it’s usually this slow early in the day, I just really keep stuff organized. A few girls come in and get their face beat for work or wherever, so I take care of them. The boss had me do a makeup tutorial online, so the girls come in for that.

  People know me anyway. I’ve been singing around Baltimore my whole life, and when I was at Morgan State, I stayed on stage. I would do the open mic over at Spoony’s like every week, plus whatever lil’ shows the college had. I won quite a few contests. Everybody just knew I was gonna blow up when I left.

  Hell, so did I.

  It just ain’t happened yet.

  I try to remain positive and tell myself I’m gonna get this job over at Coffee Cat. A few teens come in tryna grab some stuff, so they can look grown. They must have jobs because I throw a bunch of products their way, and they buy them all. It’s cool because I get a lil’ commission on top of my measly hourly pay.

  The day goes by fairly quickly, which I’m glad about. I almost don’t believe it when I look at the time and it’s 3:15 already. I hurry up and get my stuff to clock out so that I can go. I tell Shay I’ll see her later, then I go check myself out in the full-length mirror. My makeup is flawless; my hair is curled to perfection; I’ve got on a cute-ass black, mid-length bodycon dress that shows off my curves without making me look like a thot. I completed the look with some sensible heels. I look damn good! If I don’t get it, it for damned sure won’t be because of my looks.

  I give myself a smile in the mirror before heading out to Whitney and whippin’ it over to the club. It only takes me like ten minutes to get there. I pull up and find a parking spot. It’s only 3:40, so I take a few minutes to get my head right. I put on my professional persona. I gotta pull out that good collegiate attitude and show them that I’m smart, so they won’t try to play me.

  I take a deep breath and get out of the car to go inside the building. There are a few lil’ college boys standing out front, feasting on me with their eyes. I’m only a few years older than them, but still, I ain’t even tryna entertain them. Plus, I’m in my zone.

  I step inside and approach the hostess. I assume this is the one I talked to on the phone. I smile and say, “Hello, my name is Shanisha Lee, and I’m here for a job interview.”

  “Oh, yes, Ms. Lee,” says the hostess. “Step right this way. You’re a bit early, so there’ll be a little wait, but have a seat and Mr. Antwon will be with you in just a moment. My name is Val. Please feel free to come to me with any questions.”

  I follow Val towards the back of the club. It’s already packed in here, especially for almost four o’clock on a weekday. My nerves threaten to bubble up, but I push them suckas down just like I do when I’m performing and lock in on the task at hand.

  Once Val shows me to the table, I take a seat and look at my surroundings. It’s a real nice club. I come around this area sometimes, but I’ve never been inside this place. It’s nice and roomy, but still intimate. Looks like maybe two hundred people could fit in, more if they move the tables around a bit. I can definitely work with this.

  Sitting in this crowd makes me think about being in college. It wasn’t long ago, but it feels like I’m way too old to be here. I know I don’t look it though. I’m twenty-four, but most people barely believe I’m eighteen. I’ve got that good un-crackable black from my mama, who could still pull off thirty if she felt like it. Guys keep turning their heads in my direction. There are a few cuties in here, but I ain’t on that right now, nor will I be if I get the job. I try not to mix business with pleasure.

  There is music playing over the speakers, though you can
’t really hear it over the crowd. It’s playing some 90s R&B. I look around and notice that there’s a stage, but I don’t know if they put it to use. Hopefully they will start soon.

  As I’m swaying to a bit of SWV, a man walks up to my table with a big Kool-Aid smile on his face. I take it this is Mr. Antwon. He’s a good-looking, older man with some shoulder length dreads, a sparkling smile, and a nice shirt, a tie, and a pair of slacks. He steps forward and puts out his hand, and I take it.

  I raise a bit out of my seat to greet him and catch a whiff of his cologne. It doesn’t smell bad, but he is a bit heavy handed. I retake my seat and wait for him to join me and begin. He’s giving me a once over, and it makes me adjust slightly.

  He’s not looking at me like a potential employer. He’s looking at me like a hungry wolf. Down boy!

  After a few more minutes, he finally says, “Well, I coulda spotted you anywhere. You certainly look like a star.”

  I give him a soft smile and reply, “Thank you.”

  “So, you’re lookin’ for a job. I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Lee, we don’t really have performers here. I’ve had intentions on startin’ an open mic night, but I haven’t put it together yet. Usually, we just play music over the speakers, or have a DJ set up on stage.”

  “Well, Mr. Antwon,” I say. “I hope you will allow me to change that.”

  “You don’t have to be so formal. My name’s Joseph. You can call me Jo.”

  I decide to take his invitation and get comfortable. It might help me land the gig. “Only if you’ll call me Neeci.”

  “Okay, Neeci, why don’t you show me what you got.”

  This catches me off guard. “Right here? Right now?”

  “Now, yes. Here, no. On the stage over there.”

  “You got a mic and some music?”

  “You need all that?”