Sweet Nothing | Aaliyah x J. Cole

9

Jay has been in entertainment, media and journalism long enough to know some effective stage-fright deterrents.

Deep breathing, complimenting himself, pressing his fingernails into his palms, and practicing vocal warmups.

Tonight, none of that is working. He isn't even going to be speaking in front of the crowd and yet, so far, the night has him sweaty and his heart racing.

All evening, he's been thinking about Liyah: showing up at his job, popping in on his live stream...

Losing her damn mind.

He fakes his way through enough conversation with people squished into the VIP section. Among them, editor at Essence, producer at Hollywood Unlocked, and Muni Long with her crew in addition to other press, promoters, and influencers.

The club is nice, mellow but eccentric with green accents that glow under soft warm lights. Sexy R&B serenade the night, inviting an air of maturity and intimacy into the building.

Seated in a cushioned loveseat, he takes in the smells of mixed perfumes and boozy breath. Everyone is dressed in white ensembles, holding drinks, dancing or yelling to each other over the music.

Then he spots her: Liyah, making her way through the crowd in what can only be described as straps. One rectangular strip of fabric crosses her chest, managing to cover only her breasts. Another strap dissects it down the middle, from her neck to her waist. It flowers into a sleek draping skirt.

Her hair is pulled back in a low pony, smooth and tight. She hardly wears it like that, always keeping her bangs out. Her face looks sultry without the curtains over her eyes.

Jay  sits up to the edge of his seat, gripping his glass tighter.

He's never seen her so dressed up. Every eye catches a glance at her as she passes, even just for a moment. She's moving through the bodies like a predator in murky waters, with the prowess of a lioness and the artistry of a python. Like she's in her element, accustomed to the stares as she focuses straight ahead on the bar.

When a young man comes up to Jay, introducing himself as an artist on the come-up, Jay can hardly focusing on him. His eyes dart to the bar to Liyah back to the young man again, over and over. He's barely listening, hearing just enough to know the young man is going to ask what they all ask.

"Think you can play my tracks on the radio?"

Jay stands up, daps him with a nod and says, "DM me on IG. I'll listen to your music and then maybe we can talk business. Being on the airwaves is only half of it, though. It won't make your career. If you put in the work, the audience will come to you and so will the execs."

He frees himself from the encounter and when he peers towards the bar again, another man is pushing up on Liyah like a bee to a flower. He escapes the VIP maze and descends the short flight of steps, picking up pace on the ground floor.

He weaves through the dance floor until arriving on the opposite side of Liyah, who doesn't even notice him.

—

"Yeah, I love her music!" Liyah says to Aziz, the man who's buying her a drink.

He's handsome: chocolate, perfect teeth, seasoned waves. Sexy southern accent. And he smells so damn good. Something expensive, she can tell.

"I produce for her sometimes. Haven't you heard of me?" Aziz says, leaning in some more.

Liyah isn't familiar with the backend of music. Muni Long's music sounds good is enough. But just to stroke his ego, she feigns awe.

"Yes! Oh my god, yes!" She eagerly nods, letting a smile take over her face. "How long have you been working with Muni?"

Then she stroked her long ponytail, bringing it over her shoulder just to entice him.

Like a charm, he chuckles, she leans against the bar. He starts telling his story, then she notices him glance above her head with a scowl.

"Can I help you?" Aziz asks, sounding stern and impatient.

Liyah turns around in the barstool, her heart stopping for a moment.

Jay is standing there, looking so casual in his white tee and white jeans while everyone else is wearing their best. She'd always loved that about him. It made him stand out instead of fit in.

But she rolls her eyes, turning back to Aziz.

"Yeah, you a little too close to my wife," Jay says.

Aziz leans away from Liyah, folding his arms. "Your wife ain't wearing no ring." The man shrugs.

Liyah mumbles curses under her breath, her eyes falling to her lap. She shades her face with her hand, embarrassed.

"So? If I say she my girl, she my girl," Jay gets louder, attracting eyes at the bar, including those of the bartender.

Liyah looks up at him again, this time he doesn't look so calm. She's never seen him mad, and from the power and volume of his voice just now, she's certain she never wants to.

"Will you relax?" She raises her hand to him.

Then Aziz scoffs. "Whatever, bro. There's enough hoes to go around. No need to get turnt over just one."

Jay extends both arms, Liyah caught between, and he shoves Aziz into the person behind him. Liyah, having been caught off guard by the impact of Jay's chest, ducks in case fists start swinging.

Aziz spills his drink, almost falling over. But he just begins to laugh as she straightens himself again. Then he holds up the empty glass, in a mock toast to Jay.

By now everyone has turned their direction to see the commotion, and Liyah faces the bar, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

"Bartender, another one," Aziz shouts, returning to his original place beside Liyah as though Jay had said nothing at all.

"Maybe your hearing is fucked up," Jay steps around Leah this time, now inches from Aziz.

She feels her body tensing as Aziz slowly sips his new drink.

"What? Can't hear you over the music," Aziz puts the drink down on the bar, and started his body against Jay's. The men stand nose to nose, ABC from the way their nostrils flare, Liyah can tell all it'll take is one more word for the night to be ruined.

She hops up, steps between them, and grabs one of Jay's hands.

"Jay, c'mon." She pleads, looking up into his familiar brown eyes that sparkle in the warm light.

Even though she's mad at him, and had certainly wanted to make him jealous, this is still a work event for him— not the place for drama or fighting.

She's already caused drama for him at the station. She won't forgive herself if this somehow affects work for him, too.

But he doesn't budge. His grace only contorts as he restrains with balled fists.

Liyah shouts, "Jermaine!"

He glances down at her for a second, his face softening. Then at Aziz again, lips tensing again. But he shakes it off, and hand in hand with Liyah, he lets her lead him away from the bar.