Who is that galloping from the east, raising a cloud of dust. The hoof-beats strike a tattoo against the parched earth, and any man learned in Morse code would realize that it spelled only one name….@djay_prinze…
He sang with great gusto. Gripping the microphone with vice-like force, he poured out his heart, reeling out the lyrics of his classic and ridiculously popular hit song. He could feel the electricity in the crowd as they screamed and sang along word for word, lyric for lyric with him. It always excited him when the crowd connected with him on any of his songs; makes the singing very easy and relaxing.
He performed more songs, hit after hit. Virtually all his songs were hits – yes he was talented like that. He liked to think God had given him this talent and it would be incredibly selfish of him to keep hold of it to himself.
As with most of his concerts, the crowd wanted an encore and as was his usual reaction, he duly obliged ’em – hell he loved it when they wanted an encore. He sang 3 more songs and wrapped things up. He took in the adulation of the crowd, some screamed his name and some of the ladies kept screaming ‘Will you marry me?’ – Most were with their husbands.
He could only smile. He knew the men loved his music as well but mess with one of their wives and he would probably be in a coma for the rest of his life and even a plastic surgery wouldn’t hide the damage done to his face. As such he could only admire from a distance. The whole concert had been a remarkable success,12 cities visited and all sold out, lasting for 3 weeks and now he was going back home to New York to get some well-deserved rest. When was the last time he had gotten a good night’s rest? Being a celebrity had its perks but privacy and luxury of time was and would never be one.
Getting back to the dressing room, he took a swig of mineral water and sat down to give thanks to the Almighty. He was a Church-goer and believed in the Concept of God and the devil, though he felt the white beards, pitchforks and horns were overly dramatic. Closing his eyes, he imagined New York and home – his apartment. He missed it all like a baby missed its mother’s titties.
Soon he promised himself. Soon.
And soon it was: he flew into New York late in the night 2 days later and went straight to his apartment. Having had to sign autographs and take pictures, it had taken him longer than usual to get there but luxury of time, remember? Unlocking the door and stepping into his living room, the first thing he noticed was the answering machine blinking furiously like a troublesome wife awaiting the arrival of a late husband. He clicked the ‘play’ button and discovered Kanye West had left him a message about a possible collab. He snickered in part disgust, part humor. Kanye ‘Proud Son of a Gun’ West had actually called him? How freaking Karma-ish.
He remembered how as an upcoming he had approached Kanye and asked for a collab, Kanye had looked at him disdainfully and said ‘Yo man, I don’t get down with y’all fresh faced niggies, if u don’t got at least a Grammy nomination to yo name, don’t be approaching Yeezy’. He had left in shame and had vowed to be successful or die trying. 12 Grammies and countless awards later, the conceited hippo was calling to do a collabo? He’d rather do a feature with 2 Chainz.
Taking his favorite bottle of whiskey out of his carry-on bag (the whiskey followed him wherever he went; others had dogs, he had his whiskey), he poured himself two fingers and settled down in contentment.
He, from a humble beginning was now one of the most recognized artistes in the world, awards so many he was thinking of converting a spare room into an award room, several endorsements, a new album making waves across the country and internationally. What more could a bloke ask for?
Then he turned off the shower, sighed and stepped out of the bathroom, back to the anonymous life he led.
It had been a wonderful dream, it really had…..