Terrance
Terrance Palmer, also known as Triggamane, still couldn’t believe how his life had changed over the last few years. He’d went from recording demos using low budget laptops, to selling millions of records worldwide, and had made a small fortune for himself. He knew that he’d been lucky to fall in with M’Famous Ent. There were plenty of stories in the music industry about people coming out and selling lots of records only to be fucked around by a thirsty ass label. C-Note and Smoke had held him down though. They had kept it real and gave him every dime he had coming, and kept him and other label artists involved in some kind to tour regularly. Between that and the steady diet of mixtapes that he put out, he had done pretty damn good. His custom built, two and a half million dollar home sat on some of the most exclusive real estate in the Memphis area, with almost that much worth of cars sitting in the driveway outside. His entire family now had nice homes and cars and his entire entourage shared in his lifestyle as well. The only issue that there was the fact that he had become the sole provider for many of the people around him, which kept the pressure on to get more money by whatever means. There was a lot coming in, but there was also a lot going out, and at some point the rap career would come to slow down or even end. He was aware that his latest album hadn’t yet reached the sales of the one he released before it, and in the cutthroat music industry, slipping sales numbers could easily lead to you slipping off a label and off the map.
But the money or anything else wasn’t a concern for Terrance tonight, because he was throwing another party for himself. His birthday was coming up Saturday, but he had decided to party everyday of that week and then have a major party at one of the city’s premiere night spots. It was Thursday, which meant party number five and he was loving every minute of it. His home had a large pool, which led to him throwing a pool party each day. There were beautiful, scantily clad women who walked about everywhere. There were women of every race and background and most of them would have loved to be the one to blow the birthday boy’s candle out. Terrance had got so may lap dances he thought the skin might start peeling off him. The loud thump of the music mixed with the drinks had put him in a mellow mood, which was how he loved to be. Though most times he had to try and live up to his name, and the echoes of the rumor that he’d killed someone, Terrance really enjoyed just hanging out with his friends and family.
Terrance was flirting with yet another group of half-clothed women when he saw C-Note approaching.
“Wassup baller?” C-Note said when he walked up. He showed Terrance love with dap and a brotherly hug. “Birthday boy, got it live up in this bitch, we might need to shoot a video or somethin’.”
“C, the cameras come out later tonight,” Terrance replied with a boisterous smile. “Wassup though mane? I ‘preciate you swingin’ through to holla at ‘cha boy.”
“You know I gotta show you some love regardless partna. We started at the bottom together remember. And birthdays was the worse days.”
“Now we pop Ace of Spades when we thirstaay,” Terrance finished and the two shared a laugh.
“The big party still on for Saturday right, ain’t nothing changed?”
“Yea, it’s still on, and you know I gotta put on, M’Famous style. You and Smoke coming through right?”
“My nigga, you know we coming. We might even hit the stage. I hear you got some heavyweights coming through too, and I know it’s gon’ be ass and titties from wall to wall. They might even be hanging off the ceiling fucking with you.”
“It’s gon’ be tight fa sho’, but wassup on the home front? Everythang good at the camp?”
“Yeah, yeah, you know same ol’ shit. A few minor bumps in the road, but you know we ride right over that shit and keep it moving.”
The two were interrupted by a group of women who wanted to take a few picture with the two celebrities before they left. The two stars agreed, with C-Note making the stipulation that at least one of them had to take off their top for a least one picture. He told them they could cover up with their hands or let him do it for them and two of the five girls agreed with mischievous smiles. One girl was bold enough to take a bare chested pic in a few of the shots.
After finishing up with the women C-Note was ready to get down to business.
“Say bruh, let me holla at ‘chu ‘bout some business real quick, somewhere where we ain’t got to yell and everybody ain’t in our mouths,” he said to Terrance.
Terrance knew that C-Note stayed in all kinds of shit and would pull just about anything, so he didn’t know what to expect as he led the man he considered to be a mentor to a quieter part of his house. With the alcohol he had consumed, a few darker thoughts crept into his mind and he wondered if it was about the album sales.
“What’s up bruh?” Terrance asked once they were by themselves.
“Aye, you think it’s been a good run over these last two and a half years?” C-Note asked.
The question only fueled Terrance’s worry about where the conversation might be headed.
“Hell yeah it’s been good. We don’ sold plenty records and made plenty money and we did it together, with no extra bullshit in the game,” Terrance replied making sure he put emphasis on the word together.
“Yeah, and you got this fly ass crib, boss whips, and bad bitches at yo’ beck and call. You getting’ it, yo’ family and yo’ homeboys straight, so yeah, I’d say it’s been pretty good. And like you said, we did it all together, with no shit in the game at no point. Ain’t nobody tried to fuck you out no money or put you in a bad deal or nothing like that right?”
Terrance nodded his head agreeing with C-Note’s statement.
“So M’Famous been showin’ you love and doin’ you right then ain’t it?”
“You already know the answer to that my nigga, that’s why I fuck wit’ ya’ll so tough,” Terrance responded still unsure of where the conversation was going.
C-Note reached behind him and pulled out an envelope. From it he pulled out and unfolded a small packet of papers.
“Me and Smoke don’ gave it a lot of consideration, and we think for right now that the best thang for both our financial and other relationships, we go ‘head and handle this,” C-Note said then handed the papers to a now nervous Terrance.
Once he scanned a few lines and realized it was a contract, an immense sense of relief washed over him. “Aww, this another contract bruh,” Terrance said.
“Yeah, lil nigga, what you thought it was? You getting money, we getting’ money, so I’on see a reason to break up a money matrimony. So is Triggamane on deck and rockin’ wit' the notorious M’Famous E.N.T. or what?”
“Hell yeah, I’m rockin‘ wit’ the team baby. I’on need no new friends, just the niggas been holing me down from the start.”
“Dig that. Well lil nigga what ‘chu waiting on, gon’ sign that thang so you can keep these parties poppin’ and we can get back to this live ass thang goin’ on out there.”
“Ai’ight bruh, I’m down. But at the same time, what’s in here?”
“Shit to be straight up wit' you I’on know. Cuz handle all that paperwork shit, but you know we ain’t been playing games so ain’t no point in us strarting now, ya’ feel me. I did peep at the advance thought and it definitely got two commas in there.”
Terrance took a moment to thumb through the papers. He wasn’t really too good with technical things and legalese. He’d blindly signed his first contract out of the sheer excitement of actually being offered a deal. He had been around a little since then and he’d seen a lot of raw deals take place, and thought he had love for C-Note and somewhat trusted both cousins, he knew it was better to be safe than sorry.
“Bruh, check this out, I’m all the way on deck and down to sign back up for another round, but I need you to let me have my people look over it mane. Don’t take it the wrong way though.”
C-Note merely looked at Terrance consideringly, and then a smirk spread across his face. “Lil nigga growing up to be a good business man. You been hangin’ round Smoke ass too much, but that nigga would probably laugh at this shit too. I respect yo’ play mane. Business is business, so do what you need to and have whoever check it out. Don’t take too long though, we tryin’ to get this squared away. You still in the car though right?”
“Nigga I told you wassup. M’Famous all day, you see the chain, you know the business. I just want to be sure ain’t no mistake in it. As a matter of fact, if everythang check out, I’ll have it ready for you at the real party.”
Terrance’s party kept going strong and everyone kept enjoying themselves. Around eleven thirty, C-Note had finally took off with a couple of women after he had reminded Terrance to have the contract at the party as planned, on Saturday. About another hour passed before the party began to wind down and Terrance began to single down who he would sleep with for the night. But with all the alcohol in his system, every woman looked about the same. He was about to pick one or two of the women and have his entourage clear the place out when his cell phone began to ring. With all of the distractions round him Terrance answered the call without paying attention to the blocked out number on the screen, which he usually didn’t answer.
“Aye wassup,” he said in heavily slurred words.
“My lil gangsta. What’s up baby boy? Or should I say birthday boy,” a mildly familiar voice said, but Terrance struggled to remember who it belonged to.
“Who is this mane?”
“Boy you gon’ tell me you don’t remember yo’ o.g. voice? You been partying too hard, it got to be the liquor. It’s me nephew, the one and only big homie, Quack.”
Even through the liquor, the name hit home like a sack of bricks. It had been so long since he had seen or heard from Quack that the man had been the farthest thing from his mind. That was partly because of the thing that had went down that day they took the ride out to Yella’s place. That day still haunted him from time to time and he had been hoping to actually put it all behind him, and Quack’s absence was a part of that. The last he had heard, Quack and his nephew had returned to California, where Quack was originally from. That was all back a few months before Terrance’s first album dropped. He had heard that Quack had went to prison for a robbery, but there was also a rumor that it was murder, and one that he was dead himself.
“Damn o.g., wassup, cuz. It’s been so damn long since anybody heard from you,” Terrance said. He was now far enough from the party and music that he could hear clearly.
“Yeah, I got knocked for a lil situation, but they kicked me out early for bad behavior, lil gangsta,” Quack said coolly. “What’s up tho’ boy. I been seeing you on ya’ videos and shit, doing it up. You don’ came all the way up, Mr. Platinum selling artist. You been holdin’ the set down?”
“Come on mane, if you seen me on the box, you know I been reppin’ the right way.”
“Dig that. So yo’ big homie back on the scene and I know you gon’ look out for ya’ o.g. one time.
Terrance knew that was coming up sooner or later, and he was hoping that he could throw Quack some cash to spend and that would be enough to keep him out of his hair for a while.
“You already know I got you, so don’t even sweat that part. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t bless you properly. I’m gon’ get wit’chu tomorrow and we can kick it and hang out, catch up on all the crazy shit that been going on. Damn Quack it seem like it been forever.”
“I know exactly what you mean cuz, and I been waiting to touchdown like a mothafucka. I got some plays to make, and I’m tryin’ to put some thangs in motion ASAP. It’s time to get some real chips and take over out here, and I know I got some solid soldiers who got my back.”
Though Terrance still had a lot of respect for Quack, he didn’t really feel the way he was talking, especially since it sounded like he wanted him mixed up in whatever schemes he had that concerned his takeover. He wasn’t looking to change up anything he had been doing too much, and he definitely wasn’t looking for any drama, most definitely not the kind that Quack could get into. He had a lot to lose and Quack would have to understand that. Plus, their gang had more than enough goons who didn’t give a fuck about anything, and were ready to do any and everything to make a name for themselves. He knew because he kept a few of them around him. In Quack and his nephew Gizzle’s absence, Terrance, or rather, his alter ego, Triggamane, had become a central figure in their gang, though it was mostly due to the money he was bringing in. Either way they were down to protect their own best interest, which meant protecting and appeasing him. He hadn’t moved up any in rank, but was still prominent enough to call shots, though he avoided as many problems as he could.
“Ai’ight, you know I’m wit’ cha. We’ll get up tomorrow,” Terrance said trying to shake his newest issue, at least for the night. “I’ll bring some chips through then.
“Naw, lil partna, this here kind of- naw, it is important, and I need to see you tonight, as soon as you can get here. Them lil hoes can wait, they ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Quack said in a tone that signified that he wouldn’t accept anything less than what he wanted to hear.
Though Terrance wanted to refuse, Quack’s position made him adhere to the man’s request.
“Ai’ight bruh. But damn you fuckin’ up the vibes right now. I’ll come through though, but where the hell you at anyway?”
“That’s what I wanna hear from my lil nigga,” Quack said. “I know you remember Gizzle’s sister, Amesha, she got a spot off Chelsea.”
“The one in New Chicago,” Terrance said. “I know where it’s at.”
The only reason he did was because he had been over there several times and had fucked on both of Gizzle’s sisters who stayed there.
“Aye Triggamane, I know you been getting yo’ swerve on and might be lit a lil bit, but I’m gon’ need you to sober up a lil for this tonight, so stop and get you some coffee or some shit,” Quack said.
“Mane I’on drink that shit,” Terrance informed Quack.
“Well you gon’ have to tonight,” Quack shot right back. “Don’t show up so fucked up you don’t understand what’s goin’ on, and don’t wreck the damn car on yo’ way over. I’ll see you when you get her cuz,” Quack said and then hung up the phone before Terrance could get in another word.
Terrance e already had an uneasy feeling about meeting Quack before he ever set foot out the door. He remembered all too well what happened the last time he got too involved in Quack’s dealings, and he was still hoping to this day that somehow that didn’t catch up with him.
Terrance told his right hand man, Kain, to make sure everybody left and that he had a run to make. Kain offered to ride with him, or have someone else go, but Terrance didn’t want to get anyone more involved with Quack than need be at the moment. He had been driving his new Lamborghini Aventador for his birthday week, but for this particular outing he wanted to take his Mercedes Benzes S600. It had enough speed to get him out of a bad situation quickly and it was bulletproof. He hadn’t even left his own house yet and his heart was beating rapidly already. He cursed himself for even answering the phone in the first place, though he knew that Quack would have caught up with him sooner or later.
Terrance stopped at a convenience store and got coffee, now hoping that it actually would help clear him up because he would need to be able to do some kind of thinking if this turned out to be anywhere near what in could come to be. When he finally arrived at the place where Quack was, both he and Gizzle were standing outside.
“Get out cuz. We just want to talk to you for right now. We ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Gizzle said which actually made Terrance feel a lot better.
“You ain’t got to put in no work tonight Triggamane,” Quack said then embraced Terrance and then Gizzle did the same.
“Ya’ll niggas ain’t missed no meals I see,” Terrance joked.
“Naw ain’t no reason to. The real gon’ eat regardless. They gon’ make it happen,” Quack said.
“True story. What happened out there that got ya’ll jammed up?”
“Cuz we can talk about that some other time, we here for business tonight,” Quack said cutting him off. “Cuz I need a little loan. I’m trying to start a label of my own, get this music thing poppin’.”
“I told you I got you, just let me know what you need,” Terrance responded, sure that whatever Quack needed would be within his means, especially since he had a new deal coming up.
“I’m glad you said that nephew, cause when we open up, Triggamane gon’ be our premiere artist.”