Chapter 18: Monty Hall's Problem

TEN Pages Tho. Ikr some of you guys ask for THE most. & that IS the most.. you'll be getting. Hong Kong BITCHES! S/o to the group prayer. Definitely. & S/o to TeamMinajLexi. Got A Twitter? Yep, cuz we looked and couldn't find it. & Dead At The Addition That Purp Put On The Background. Oop. U mad? Y'all betta enjoy.

                                                                                                                           Cooncerely,

                                                                                                                                          Green & Purp

On the ride up the elevator I tried to keep the hook I thought of in the car. Drake was gone let me have that beat, even if I had to put him on the remix. Look at me.. frontin’ like I don’t enjoy making hits with him. Shoot, the idea of a remix sounds dope. I’d even use new verses. Swear those ones where the featured artist just hops on get annoying sometimes.

Speaking of annoying, this background music was beyond. More so, today because it was messing up my thought process. All I could think about were the many times I’ve ranted to whoeva was riding with me about how they needed a better selection. I’ve even threaten to tell management to at least add a few Enya songs to the playlist. Hopefully it’ll come back to me on my way out.

The bell dinged when I reached my floor. Walking out, I dug around in my purse for my key. “Fml.” I said out loud, realizing I’d forgotten it. I put my ear to the door to see if I could hear any movement. “Damn. Nothin’.” Maybe he’s here, but just quiet. I tried to convince myself. I didn’t want to look stupid by knocking, cuz I always grilled people about keepin’ up with their stuff, so I bumped the door with my knee a couple times. Almost a minute passed by and no one came. Pauz. “Ugh.” Maybe that wasn’t loud enough, so I began twisting at the knob all extra and shit. I knew it was locked, but it irritates the hell outta Safaree when I take ‘too long’ to open the door. He used to always offer to get it for me, but what really made me catch on was when he’d go outta his way to do it. I hate when he doesn’t speak up, so one day I made a big deal out of it. I told him it made me feel like he didn’t think I could handle something as simple as opening a door. I went on and on about wanting to use the hands I was blessed with. Even gave him the whole pussy power speech. It didn’t work tho. Now he just makes sure he’s in front of me.

Three minutes went by and I was done with denial. I pulled out my phone and texted Martin.

          Yo, where the hell r u?

At home. Why? Better be done with what I left him here to do.

So u finished my schedule already?

Yep.

For next month?

As much as I can without the confirmation of a few.

Oh. I need u to come back.

Uh okay. Am I bringing something?

Nope, just yo key. I texted, while taking a seat on the pane of this tall ass window at the other end of the hall.

L

Boy. I am not tryna keep it. I just forgot mine.

Oh. :-/

R u freaking kidding me right now?

I’m so sorry. Want me to call SB?

Go ahead. *writes out pink slip* Even though this was my fault, I was truly pissed. As soon as Emonie’s of legal working age, Martin betta be searching for other employment.

Damn, what’s taking him so long to text back? If I don’t write this down, I might not be able to remember it right when I hear the beat again. I thought, before looking in my purse for a pin and some paper. I only found a pin and a piece of gum. This just wasn’t my day. Since when do I not carry paper? I opened the gum, balled up the wrapper, and flicked it somewhere out of frustration. The flavor relaxed me a bit as I chewed away. It’s weird how gum can do that to you. I closed my eyes as the rhythm of me smacking helped me keep my lyrics. Then my phone rung.

“Just because I texted you don’t mean you should call me.”

“I’m really sorry Nicki. I’ll wear it on a chain.” Martin said.

“What makes you think you’re getting it back?” I asked.

“I prayed about it.” He responded softly. This made me giggle. He had to bring God into this.

“Okaaay. Great.” It was quit for a bit. “What did he say?”

“That you would find it in your heart to forgive me. And though this job is a blessing, he’ll surely take it away if I can’t handle it.”

“Boy, I was talkin’ bout S.B.” I laughed. “But God is always right, even if we don’t wanna take heed.”

“Amen.” He cheerfully agreed.

“Sooo?”

“Oh. His phone rang, but he didn’t answer. I left a message and a text tho.” I shook my head at the fact that between Safaree and I, this was probably Martins third time  doing this routine today.

“Wow. Guess I’m gonna have to go get the maintenance dude.”

“Yeah, or call him yourself.”

“Whoa, you have our maintenance guy’s number?”

“It’s obtainable. But you know I was talking about S.B… He’ll answer for you.”

“Well, thanks for trying to help. And maybe I’ll.. pray about.”

“It’s my job. And haha, but no seriously, it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Later dude.” I said, before ending the call.

Even though I doubt he means to, sometimes Martin could really make me feel like shit. I know if I’d said that out loud in a room full of people who were ‘close’ to me, and that had a chance to observe our relationship, more than half of ‘em would assume Tyrone was speaking. Most people think it’s the other way around and I can’t say they’re completely wrong to. I’ll admit, I can be a liddle hard on him, but its all love. I treat all boys the same. I don’t do it out of spite, but life has made me this way. It just seems worst with Martin because he’s practically a saint. So damn respectful and polite. Sure, he can act childish, but his mental and spiritual is up there for 29. To say he’s in touch with his feminine side would be an understatement. I promise you I thought he was suspect until I met his mom during one of my stops in Cleveland. She babies the mess out of that boy. My mom loves him too. She knows he’s not my type, but wishes some of his character would rub off on me. I don't know. In time, maybe it will, but that if he can keep his job long enough.

Taking Martins advice, I gave up and called S.B. He finally picked up on the 4^th ring. He didn’t speak, but I could hear his faint breathing. I waited for a few seconds.

“Woooow.” I said, sarcastically. I really wanted to hang up, but I knew if I did, I’d be headed all the way back down to the lobby. Where I’d have to sit and wait for someone to page maintenance. “Ugh, I forgot my key.” I told him, bracing myself for feedback, but he stayed silent. Shocker. “Look, just come and let me in, then you can go back to wherever the hell you are.” He still didn’t say anything. Not that it would help him talk, but I imagined me reaching through the phone and choking the shit out of him. Knowing that Safaree would never purposely kick me while I was down, I had no other choice but to play the pity card. “So you really gone let me forget this hook? Damn, that’s really fucked up, Safaree.”

“Naw, you just made that shit up.” He replied. Bingo.

“Why do you think I’m lying?

“Cuz, if it was true, you would’ve just wrote it down.”

“I didn’t bring any paper with me you cock.”

“Yo, you gone quit talkin’ to me how ever.”

“Or what?!”

“You gone have to take yo ass down to get Victor!” He laughed.

“Just bring ya ass. I got shit to do.” I said before hanging up.

I turned around and put my feet up so I could look out the window. Martin was right. I never told him, but that’s really one of the reasons I keep him around. I could find a million assistants who were way less forgetful, but they just couldn’t compare. From the short time I’ve known him, I could tell his faith was strong. To be in this entertainment business and stay true to your beliefs was a challenge. Trust me, I know. Most of these niggas just religious. Leaning my head back against the wall, my thoughts started to roam.

I remember Terrence going on about how the directors made sure they showed them damn dogs after I said ‘chaos or violence’ during the prayer in My Time Now. We all laughed at S.B. when he said that if there was a scene of me flushing the toilet they would’ve shown Niagara Falls. It was true, they would’ve made a movie out of me sneezing, but Martin still said it was one of his favorite parts. S.B. shook his head and said that it would be, which caused us to laugh again. When the get together was over, everyone besides Martin, left. He stayed behind to help us clean up. I wanted to ask him why that particular part was one of his favorites, so I waited til S.B. said he was turning in. I asked him and he just told me that it was a good look. At first, it offended me. The way he said it made it sound like I just did it for the camera. Guess he read my face cuz he started to elaborate.

“I meant people needed to see that side of you, Nicki. That you know God is real and recognize prayer is powerful. What you think should already be assumed, may not be. I’m here, and I see you pray over your food. Even if it’s not out loud, I see you hesitate. You listen to gospel on days other than Sunday. And with all your craziness, the way you were raised still shines through. I don’t know your personal relationship with God, and it’s not any of my business. All I know is that you have one, and that the Bible on your night stand could be way dustier.”

Til this day, what he said still touches me.

I looked at my phone to see the time. I’ve been sitting in this damn hallway for like 5 hours. Okay. Just 1, but it sure feels like more. It had been 15mins since I talked to S.B. I bet he was taking his good ol’ time too. Hector, whateva his name is would’ve been up here by now. I got up, threw my purse over my shoulder and headed to the elevator. I pushed the button. Really? It was on the first floor. I just had to tweet about this shit.

Dear Barbz, Ima need this elevator to step it up, Penthouse. Literally. Or do one of yall know how to pick locks? Luv, HB

I was reading all the crazy replies when I heard the door open. I looked up. WTF? That was not the elevator. Turning around in shock I saw S.B. standing in the door way. I put my phone in my purse and stormed to my door. He dodged out of the way thinking I was gonna swing but I just brushed pass him. I rummaged through the kitchen for something to drink. Grabbing a cup out the cabinet, I slammed it shut before slamming the cup down on the counter. Good thing it was hard plastic cuz I would’ve been picking shards of glass out my hand. Snatching the fridge open, I grabbed the fruit punch and slammed the door shut. Fuck. The top was too tight.

“Here. Let me get it.” S.B. said, walking towards me.

“Fuck you.” I spat. He better get away from me before I chuck the closest thing to me at his head.

“Damn. Well sit there and be thirsty then.” He said.

“DON’T TALK TO ME.” I yelled. He shrugged, went around the counter and sat at the bar. I still couldn’t get it opened. With all this rage and heat radiating off  me I should’ve been able to melt that damn top. I walked over to the other side of the kitchen to grab a towel, and before I could turn around, I heard him pouring it into my cup. I hung the towel back up and went over to grab my drink. He sat back down and smiled as I took a sip.

“You’re welcome.” He said. I was thankful, but I wasn’t about to say it. He laughed and shook his head. That really pissed me off. I’m mad and you’re laughing. I glared at him before heading to my room. “I ain’t puttin’ that shit back.”

“Then I guess it’ll sit out till tomorrow.” I said, entering my room. I slammed the door shut. “I’ma just cool off and write down this hook.” I said to myself. I threw my purse on the bed and was headed to sit my drink down on my night stand when S.B. began to knock. “If you don’t leave me alone..”

“I’m coming in.” he said, before doing so. Damn. I should’ve locked it. I took a sip and sat it down.

“Are you deaf, dumb, or stupid?” He picked up my yellow paper legal pad off the dresser and tossed it on my bed.

“I know you’re not gonna say thank you,” Ya damn right I ain’t. “But, I really am sorry.”

“So you’re deaf.”

“I should’ve told you I was leaving or left a note or something.” He confessed as he approached my bed to sit down.

“DON’T even.” I said while grabbing a pin off my night stand.

“See, and you always talkin’ ‘bout I don’t listen.”

“You had me sitting out there for damn near all day!” He shook his head and sat down on the edge of my bed like I told him not to.

“And now you’re changing the subject.”

“So you swear you didn’t hear me at the door?”

“I was takin’ a shower! You didn’t ring the bell so I didn’t hear it. SUE ME.” He said.

“So you just got up and left without washing yo ass and balls?”

“Nope. Took one before I left too.” Hmmm. Niggas taking two showers now? After my dad started doing that shit we got Brandon.

“It took you 15mins to get dressed?!”

“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll take 2hrs.” He responded sarcastically. I knew I was blowing things out of proportion, Pauz, but once one bad thing happens I tend to dwell on it. I hate that, cuz usually it spills over onto everything else. I got up and crawled down to him. He turned around to face me and I pouted. “Wha?”

“Three things.” I said, setting back on my feet.

“I’m listening.” He responded while fixing his fitted cap.

“And you can’t answer ‘em with questions.” I pointed at him.

“I’ll try to take that into consideration.”

“Why’d you leave me?” He gave me his dead face. It was a liddle cute, but not enough for me to smile. “I’m waiting.”

“Well, with the way you keep pushin’ me away, I didn’t think a few hours would kill you.” He answered. I glared at him.

“Where’d ya go?”

“To da gym. You know a coon gotta stay fit. Just in case someone actually wants me.” I smacked my lips before rolling my eyes.

“What’s your last question woman?”

“Well. It’s more of a statement.” I said, scooting closer.

“Oh.”

“Yep.” I replied bashfully. He licked his lips and stared at me intently. My smile grew wide and I diverted my eyes.

“Go on, I ain’t got all day.” He rush. I unzipped my hoodie.

“Boy bye.” I told him, while pulling off the last sleeve.

“Aye, I got shit to do.” He teased, mocking me from earlier. I held up my hands for a hug. His faced twisted but he opened his arms wide when I licked my lips.

“Thank you.” I said, while leaning in for an embrace. But before he could close his arms around me I pushed his ass right off my bed. “Next time I say DON’T, you betta listen.” I said in a serious tone before crackin' up laughing. He sat up swiftly and the look on his face made me laugh myself into tears. I couldn’t even see when he reach up and pull me down with him.

As I laid on top of him, head resting on his chest, I thought about the past month. All this mess due to the lack of self control.

“Why do you put up with me Safar’?” He cleared his throat.

“You know already.” He told me.

“No really, I don’t.” I truly never grasp it.

“I don’t know. Maybe it's because... you’re a good nut.” I know right. It shocked the hell out of me too. I sat up on my elbows and pulled my arm back to slap the shit out of him, but he blocked it. I didn’t mind though. It was just a distraction from what I really wanted to do. Which was knee him in da sack. I succeeded and he pushed me off of him, to rock back and forth in the fetal position. I stood up and fixed my shirt.

          “I’m the bestest nut.” I proclaimed, before hopping on my bed to write down that hook.