Sky's The Limit

iii

three | crystal

"A group?" the question left my mouth as if I was appalled at the idea.
"Yeah," Ishaan nodded with a toothy grin.

"Hear 'im out," Will spoke up, taking into account my not-yet-spoken rejection.

"I ain't hearin' shit out. I already told you— I've told both of you multiple times, I ain't tryna' be no rapper," I shook my head vehemently.

"So, what'chu plan on doin' for the rest of your life? Rinsing dirty cash until Joe gets taken down?" Ishaan impulsively retorted.

"Yo," Will patted his shoulder as a non-verbal cue for him to step aside.

"She already shittin' on my idea before I can even—" Ishaan didn't bother to continue since Will was already ignoring him.

He instead took to pacing Antonio's studio space, which was really just a small guest room where the equipment and a few seats and chairs were stationed. It wasn't long before he took the seat that Will previously sat in before they both stood to present their "grand plan" to Antonio and I.

Will took a knee next to me just so he'd no longer tower over me while trying to make an appeal. "Cris, think about it... You can live out all your dreams with this rap shit."

I rolled my eyes. "Fat chance, Will. I mean, look, maybe for y'all... but not for me."

"Why not you?"

"Will, ain't nobody tryna' hear what the fuck I got to say. Shit, I can't even get Ishaan to listen to me for five seconds, and I've known him since we were eight!"

"I was eight, you were seven," Ishaan muttered from the spinny-chair.

"Shut up," my face contorted at him.
"I'm just makin' sure you got the facts—"

"'Shaan!" Will didn't even have to look back at him for the message to be made clear.

"And see, that's another reason— I can't be in a group with him always jumping at the opportunity to make me look stupid," I added.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Ishaan parting his lips to speak, but Will piped up once again before he could. "Shut up, 'Shaan."

Ishaan zipped his lips and turned the back of his chair to us. He resumed sipping the whiskey Antonio supplied us with only half an hour ago.

I was thankful that Ishaan's little sippy cup of liquor kept him quiet. Antonio being born a year before Will really came in clutch since we couldn't all partake in Club Five's liquor selection, because— once again— my advice had been disregarded by two brick-headed boys.

"Now, look, if I gotta' play therapist and parent and glue between you two every day then I'll do that because I know for a fact that we are stronger together than apart. You feel me?"

I returned his gaze for only a few seconds more before glancing past him to see Antonio tinkering with the recording equipment. Reminded of our earlier conversation, I redirected my attention.

"Why do y'all want me in your group?" I prompted.
Will scoffed. "It's not just a group, Cris. It's a supergroup— the best MC's we know banded together to get this bread legally."

"You don't want in on that?"
"Of course I do. I just—"

I was interrupted by nothing in particular. I simply couldn't find the language to identify what exactly I felt. It was a mixture of things, a combination of life experiences holding me back from committing to such an ambitious idea.