Brand New (by Cortney Joseph)

I took a deep breath, rolling my eyes as numerous, slim model type bitches brushed against me. They were trying their hardest to get to the same destination as me. Only difference between me and them, I’m getting in.

 

Nah, I’m not on that groupie shit. I’ve got a score to settle and whether DeMario Mills wants to deal with it or not, I’m here and I’m not leaving. “I don’t know what makes her think she’s getting chosen. She’s fat.”

I’ve heard bitches yik-yaking behind my head all evening, all through the show and through the entire walk back here with DeMario’s security. It was nothing new. I turned with a smile on my face. “Poor things. Unlike you, I’ve already had him.”

Janise, his sister came out of the dressroom, pushing females back as she cleared her throat. “Alright, he’s only accepting one and-” Her eyes locked with mine and it was apparent that she wanted to avoid me at all cost. Of course, from the look in my eyes, she would want to proceed with caution if she chooses to overlook me. “You, thick hips with the black bodycon. He’s in the mood for a little extra tonight.”

The bitches behind me gasped and I smirked to myself before stepping past the other females. Janise leaned forward, whispering in my ear. “Please don’t go in there with any drama. We all know you love busting shit up.” I just gave a small smile, keeping it cute with my intentions on mute.

I walked in and she closed the door behind me.

 

Clearing his throat, I could hear DeMario speaking from the restroom. “Aye Shawty, I’ll be out in a second.” I looked around for a few seconds before making myself comfortable on the white leather chaise sitting in the center of the room. “Yo, you don’t speak.”

“I speak quite well, thank you.”

“Ha, you acting up already ‘cause you back here, huh?”

“Oh, I’m not acting up yet, Mario.”

There was total silence for a few minutes before he finally came out. To say that seeing me was a shock would be an understatement. “Brandy.” He chuckled uneasily. “You’re the only person besides my mama that calls me Mario.”

“I know. I’m the only person who knew you well enough that got the ‘privilege’ to call you that. Guess I should have expected you to forget about that as well.”

He cleared his throat. “What you talking about Brandy?”

“You forgot about me.”

 

DeMario sat next to me, looking at me as if those light skinned nigga tactics were going to do numbers on my broken heart. Lowered eyes, licking his slightly plump lips, with his hands clasped together. Speaking lowly as if his voice still did some type of magic to my broken soul. It would probably work if his beard wasn’t so wild and he had tattoos on top of all of his muscles. “I didn’t forget about you, Bae. You and I are still together. I just can’t-”

“Claim me in public, I know. What was it your label said? You need to appear single so that you don’t lose your core audience of horny, skinny bitches that are waiting to trap your simple ass with a baby. Yeah, I know. That was all fine in the beginning Mario. You know, when you still came home on your nights off. When you still checked in on our kids. When you didn’t see me in crowds and ignore me as if I was some random fan.”

 

I stood up; needing to get a lot of this off my chest. I knew what all came with being with a celebrity. Especially an R&B single, especially one as fine as DeMario. But me knowing was still no reason or excuse for the way he’s been now that fame has found its way into his life. “I like that new song you put out.”

He cleared his throat, looking up at me. “Which one?”

The Real Me. Speaking on how you’re out here for those still sitting at home, handling your responsibilities and looking out for the fam no matter where you are in the world.” I laughed a little. “I guess you’ve been a little too busy with Jay and Yeezy to comprehend the fact that the entire record is FAKE. Taking care of the fam back home? So I guess you know that your kids need clothes, shoes. Your mama can’t even reach you, couldn’t understand why her only son wouldn’t even show up when she was having surgery. Oh, but don’t worry, she’s just fine. I’ve been there for her.”

DeMario put his head down. “Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. You’re welcome for everything. The years I invested into our relationship, giving you money to fund all your early studio time. Missing out on work because you NEEDED me by your side as those shows in janky clubs where they barely wanted to pay you for even showing up. Not having one, but three of your babies and essentially raising them on my own while you chase your own dreams after I gave my own up. And don’t say you were there before you made it, ‘cause you weren’t. But I still loved you. Then these big heads come along and they’re ready to sign you, you got money and you’re making promises to bring us all up out the hood. You done came up, Son. Why we still stuck struggling?”

“Brandy…”

“I mean, I do what I gotta do regardless. Working two jobs to take care of mine, money for myself is not what I’m here for. I just wanna know why you changed? Why you had to go and get brand new ‘cause you got this new crew of ‘yes’ men and bitches throwing ass at you left and right? All of this flashy shit, that’s coming before your kids?” He licked his lips. “You up here living good, but my kids gotta question where their daddy at while telling me they’re worried I might not make it home from one of these late night jobs.”

 

DeMario’s head jerked up. “What the hell you doing?”

“Waitressing, working as a security guard… whatever I gotta do to make sure all three of my kids eat. Whatever I gotta do to make sure your mama get her proper medicine while fighting to make sure they don’t cut off her medicare stuff. All the while, her son and my baby daddy making big money and flashing it around on TV and in music videos. This the real me, I’m about mine. I swear, y’all niggas wanna act brand new soon as y’all get a lil’ change. Filthy rich and still broke as shit ‘cause you fuck around losing what should mean the most to you.”

“Come on Brandy, don’t come here snapping. You know I’ll kick you a little something.”

“Don’t give it to me. Give it to your kids, and don’t let it just be money. They want to see you! They don’t wanna see DeMarion Mills the singer either, they wanna see that hood ass motherfucker named D from the 9th Ward! Don’t worry about me, ‘cause I can do just fine for myself. But you better get off that brand new shit and make things right with your sons and your mother. None of these leaching motherfuckers around you gon’ be there like your real family.”

 

I turned to walk out the door and DeMarion grabbed my wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you are. Oh, and whenever you do make that trip back, don’t be too surprised if you see me riding around with someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yeah. I got tired of asking you what about me  in ‘fan letters’ and voicemails.”

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