Deja & Damar: Love and Trap Music

By: Rio

Prologue


Indianapolis, Indiana

April 1st, 2016

Friday, 7:45 P.M.



“I hope you know that if it wasn't for Raymond I'd be trying my best to get those shorts off you. I mean that, too. Damn. You done got grown on a nigga. Lil thick ass.”

“Damar, if you don't shut that bullshit up. Come on, now. We gotta take this shit serious. Put your headphones on.”

Deja rolled her eyes and put on her own Beats headphones, looking at Damar out of the corner of her eye and smiling at his handsome brown face.

She was about the same peanut butter complexion that he was, and though she'd had a thing for dark-skinned men since she was in middle school she had always liked Damar a lot more than she showed. He was an eye-catching young thug with a mouthful of gold teeth and a slender build. As usual, he was dressed down in a white tee shirt and Balmain jeans and had on a fresh pair of Louboutin sneakers. He had dreadlocks, which Deja loved, and a bunch of tattoos from his neck to his waist. A Styrofoam cup half-full of Codeine and Sprite was in his hand. There were two gold chains hanging around his neck and a gold Rolex watch on his wrist.

Like Deja, Damar was a rapper, though he was much more successful at it than she was. He did shows at nightclubs throughout the city just about every night and dropped mixtape after mixtape every other month or so. He had even managed to get Yo Gotti to feature on a mixtape he dropped last year, and he'd performed it with the North Memphis street legend at the 2015 Circle City Classic.

Deja, on the other hand, had only one mixtape that she had released two years ago, and though music was her passion, her job as a bartender at Pure Passion West, a popular west side strip club, is how she made ends meet. It wasn't enough to pay the bills, but she still got by; her dope boy boyfriend's savings is what paid most of the bills, anyway. She lived with her mother but lately she'd been staying at Raymond's house on most nights. Raymond was in Marion County Jail with a $500,000 bail for attempted murder, and since all he had was just over $35,000 in his safe, Damar had taken it upon himself to pay the remaining amount for the 10% bond option.

Raymond was due home any minute now. His brother Ramone was going to pick him up and bring him here to the house.

Deja and Damar were longtime friends. Their mothers had moved here to Indianapolis from their hometown of Michigan City, Indiana back when they were both just fourteen years old, and ever since they had been close friends, living under the same roof most nights and also attending the same schools. When Damar was seventeen he left home and moved in with a woman who was twice his age, and she had introduced him to the drug game. He had become quite rich as a drug-dealer but when he and the clique of Vice Lords he hung out with on 42nd and Post Road were indicted and charged by the feds in a drug sting, he promised to leave the dope game alone and focus solely on his rap career. He was able to beat the drug case and ever since he'd been in the studio practically every day and night, grinding out mixtapes and doing shows.

The two underground rappers were in the basement of the two-story east side home that Deja shared with her boyfriend. Raymond had spent over forty grand turning the basement into a recording studio for Deja to make her music.

Jason, a regular-faced white guy with ridiculously long, silky black hair, was Damar’s music engineer but he always came through to mix and master Deja's music when she needed him. He was sitting at the soundboard, adjusting the dials and waiting for her and Damar to get ready to record.

The song was titled “Straight Thang”, and Damar had written both his verses and hers, too. She'd made a few minor changes to her lyrics but not many. Damar was a talented songwriter. He'd written two of the tracks on her debut mixtape, free of charge, and they'd turned out to be her most popular songs.

“This shit gon' kill em, sis,” Damar said as he walked up to the mic. “A'ight, Jason, let's do this shit. Drop that beat.”

Jason gave a nod and a second later their headphones were pumping a vicious trap-style beat that Deja knew would set the clubs on fire. She was excited about this one. She needed a big hit. So far her YouTube videos had not been viewed as much as Damar's. (He had one video, “Hard Body”, that had racked up over 700,000 views in just the year since he'd uploaded it). One song that they'd done together and recorded a video for last week was already starting to rack up views. It was titled “They Ain't Like Us”, and so far it was up to 85,000 views.

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