Page 48 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“You getting all of that from a dress?”

“Yep. You just don’t know what you’re looking for. Just like I don’t know anything about the eight zero eight beats you be trying to explain to me in the studio.”

“They ain’t beats,” I laughed. “An eight oh eight is that deep bass you hear underneath the track. That little rumble that makes the speakers shake.”

“This is a fashion history lesson, not a music lesson,” she snickered.

“You right. What else you want to teach me, Ms. Clayton?”

Jameera took my hand, and we walked deeper into the museum. Somewhere between Jameera explaining his fashion influence and showing me some of her favorite things in person, we reached the theater.

“Hello again, Q and Jameera. You guys have reached my favorite part of the exhibit, the theater. Today we have an exciting show for Valentine’s Day that we hope you all will enjoy.”

“Thank you,” I replied as we slipped inside.

The room was darker than the exhibits we’d just left, and the smell of orange blossom and sandalwood wafted through the air.

I followed Jameera toward the middle of the theater, and we claimed the two middle seats. My nerves ramped up again the longer we sat in the dark. Did Khaleesi forget to cue the staff? Did Xain forget to usher Fabian back there? Shit, did those childish motha fuckas get to squabbling instead of orchestrating such an important moment in my life?

“What’s wrong? Are you enjoying yourself?” Jameera questioned, grabbing my hand.

“Absolutely. I loved watching you enjoy yourself more than anything. Plus I learned a thing or two,” I admitted.

“What did you learn?”

“That Mr. Laurant–”

“Oh my God, Q. His name is Laurent,” Jameera giggled.

“Yeah. Mr. Laurent said let the women wear the nigga clothes if they want to.”

“Lordy, I failed as your guide. Next time, I’ll let the professionals do their job,” she continued laughing.

She was loud enough to miss the sound of Fabian reappearing with his camera pointed at us. He gave me a thumbs up, and I finally relaxed as the lights faded completely, and the screen in front of us came alive.

The words Before We Met flashed across the screen, and a slow montage of our pictures from birth to middle school, the time before we met. When our parents chose our clothes and hairstyles.

Fabian’s camera came on, and Jameera looked at me. “Q, what is this?” She whispered.

“Shhhh,” I placed my finger against my lips, and Jameera eyed me with a smile before turning back to the screen.

The song I recorded for that moment began playing, and Jameera looked over at me.

“This is an unreleased song?”

“Yep, recorded just for you,” I affirmed.

A select few lyrics from the song projected onto the screen.

Some love stories start in college, the workplace, or the club,

but AP Computer Science class is where I found my love.

Pictures from our freshman year of high school followed. During that timeframe, Jameera kept her hair blown out. I had a gold grill, and Jameera had gold covering her fangs and lateral incisors on both sides of her mouth. Outdated clothes and innocent smiles were abundant.

“Awww, we were babies,” Jameera cooed.

What started as friends eventually turned into more,