“…please blame it on the Son of the Morning”
– Jay-Z
The incident with Brandon, made Lincoln paranoid. He still made music, but only by himself. He stopped talking to Snot, and ignored all of his calls and voice messages for the rest of the summer. He stopped going to work and only talked to his father.
“You gotta talk to your friends, Linc. They trying to give you good news about your music. Snot, I can’t believe y’all eighteen years old still calling that boy that, but Snot was here earlier. He said they need you to perform for some music label people to see if your band can get signed. His cousin lined up some performances for y’all before the end of the summer and you gone miss out if you don’t get in touch with them. All y’all gone miss out. He said you mad over a misunderstanding. You think his cousin was taking credit for your work, but apparently he didn’t do that. And now people in positions to give you what you been working so hard for are ready to give you what you want. Sounds to me like you need to talk to your friends.”
Lincoln sighed. He sat at the kitchen table with his father and he looked down at his own hands. He had been by himself for months, seething. He’d figured that Brandon had already signed a deal and was making music in some studio up north, and Lincoln wrote, then roughly recorded with his laptop, enough songs to fill a mixtape. He had a CD of the music on the table.
“You believe Snot?” Lincoln asked his father.
“Why don’t you, son?” Richard asked with real concern in his voice. His face was stern with worry. “What exactly happened that made you cut them off like you did?”
“Brandon, Snot’s cousin, applied for this music thing behind our back, like he wanna be solo. But all we done talked about since we was twelve was how we a group, a band. We always worked together. But I write the songs, daddy. The song he used to get into that music thing, then played on the internet like it was his, I wrote that. And when me and Snot tried to call him after we saw it, he ignored us for weeks. I was so mad, I still am. This ain’t the first time he did stuff like that either.”
“He took credit for your work?”
“We had a argument before he left. He really think he better than me and that me and Snot only do what he tell us to do, like every song is him orchestrating everything. Daddy, I write, I sing and I rap my own stuff, and I know how to play instruments. I play with Brandon and Snot cause they like they instruments just like I do and we do it good together, but it’s always a competition with Brandon. It ain’t really no competition though, they in my band and I didn’t want to have to tell them that cause it all came together so easy. But if Brandon want to be like that, and Snot don’t see a problem, then I need a better band. Or better yet, I can just go solo.”
Richard’s eyebrows arched high on his forehead and he nodded slowly, pursing his lips.
“I’m glad to hear he didn’t cheat me, try to cut me out of my work,” Lincoln continued. “The shows sound cool and I want to to play with my friends, but I don’t know if I have friends. Snot is my friend, I need to call him, but Brandon. If I don’t trust him, daddy, should I even perform with him? Maybe I just cut ties now, let him have everything I made for us. I already got this,” he said tapping the CD on the table. “I believe in this. This is all me and I know people gone respond to it.”
“You really willing to leave Snot behind? You said he’s your friend, you’ve known him your whole life. And how long you been making music with Brandon? Gotta be a long time. You ain’t never trusted him?”
“I always did until people started hearing our music. I’m the front man, he bitter. He want shine he won’t necessarily get just playing instruments behind me. He good, daddy, and he definitely helped me make all the songs in our mixtape, but halfway through, I learned everything he did and by the end I didn’t need him or Snot. I wanted them because it was fun, until he let his ego get to him.”
“Sound like ego,” Richard said with a nod. “Is it just him, though? Sound like you overcompensating because he knew more than you when y’all started.”
“Maybe,” Lincoln admitted, but he shook his head. “I was good, daddy. We was having so much fun. Then sometimes it started to feel weird between us. We good together, we should be playing together, but if we can’t work together without ego being a problem, then ain’t it best to walk away now. Avoid a lot of headache down the road. Me and Snot ain’t never had a problem, it was only ever fun with him.”
“That’s a hard choice, son, and it sound like you really thought it through. I wish I could fast you forward to see how both scenarios would work out for you. But you should realize that ain’t no such thing as a right choice in a situation like this one. There’s pros and cons to each, and you have to be man enough to face whatever consequences, pick yourself up, and keep working. If I was you, I’d go play with my friends. The road will be bumpy, but you’re young and you’re strong. You’ll come out of whatever stronger for it, and your move after that will only take you higher. Just keep your eyes and your ears open. Figure out who you can trust and keep them close. Then figure out who can get you to where you need to be and keep them close under a watchful eye. And know that I’m always here for you, no matter what you decide. You make me proud son.”
Lincoln felt tears welling in his eyes, but he staved them off. It meant a lot to hear his father speak with so much confidence in his ability. He hugged his father, then left the house with his CD, headed to Snot’s house.
PRL Serials 