Control

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The after-competition coma was a real lifesaver. I slept for twenty-four straight hours.

I rubbed my groggy eyes as I opened them to see midday. I woke up so late, but not after I needed to. Who cared?

I won Finding Solstice!

I was to move out of the house by the end of the day, my flights were tomorrow morning, and my suitcase had yet to be packed. I didn't care!

I won Finding Solstice!

But so had Ray.

I discovered Fairouz's main plan when I saw staged photos of Ray and Andre on my phone, looking flirtatious and hanging out around town and in Fairouz's studio.

It had only been a day.

I found out before my after-competition coma, so I fell asleep.

Ray won the judge's vote because the prize would be a collaboration with Dilemma, meaning that would be the perfect gateway into a relationship being revealed.

It wasn't real.

There was an uncanniness I spotted about them. I wasn't sure others could. They seemed staged. But they got everyone talking.

I had a meeting later today where I would sign my contract and then I would be on my merry way home to pack my stuff for LA again. In the rarest moment of free time, I had this week, I managed to squeeze in leasing an apartment starting next month there.

I didn't even want to reveal it to myself. Somehow, I felt like I was betraying my family by being excited. It was my secret within a secret.

I was officially leaving Toronto. My parents didn't know about it. I had no choice.

Suddenly, I got a call. Not from my parents or Emmett or Maria. Not even Grace or Janelle.

"Grandma?" I wondered when answering the call.

"Hey!" Grandma Ekene longed excitedly. "Look at you! I saw you on the TV last night!"

I chuckled. "Thanks, Grandma. Did you watch all of it?"

"All of your aunties and uncles and cousins here in Lagos watched the whole thing," she gushed. "You are so talented! How come you've never talked about music before?"

I sighed. "Eh, Mom and Dad never really talked about it. Emmett is way more interesting than me."

"Really?" she asked. "I'm surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just surprised your Mom never told me about you singing," Grandma Ekene said. "You're Mom used to sing back in Nigeria."

I whipped my head around in sheer shock. "What?"

"You don't know?" she asked. "Your mom used to be a singer when she was younger."

"How come she didn't tell me?"

"She wanted to be like you. She wanted to be a singer," Grandma Ekene explained. "But this was back in those days. There was no money in being a singer. There was no path one could take. So I advised her to find a job while doing music as just one... side thing."

Mom singing? All the pieces clicked back together. It was why Mom got so annoyed and upset every time I played my music. She insisted I quit the show because of every small inconvenience we faced. It must have killed her to see me be the singer she never got to be.

Anger swept through me and then pity.

"She never sang again," she finished. "She stopped slowly before nursing school. It hurt to see my daughter stop singing. But I hope you can continue."

I sat in silence, taking in all her words. Why would Mom just stop singing?

"Yeah."

"Anyway, I have to go," Grandma Ekene hurried. "I have people coming over. May God bless you, my Ezra!"

"Bye Grandma!" I exclaimed before the phone cut off.

Why would Mom just stop singing?

In the hotel room, we all watched an old family movie from the 90s.

It was way smaller, but there was a certain air of bliss in the world with all of us together. Our flight was tomorrow morning.

Mom suddenly left the room, and I suddenly remembered what Grandma Ekene said about Mom. There was something I needed to ask her now.

I followed her down to our hotel balcony, while Dad, Emmett, and Maria kept on watching, transfixed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I just wanted to ask something," I told her, feeling the cool breeze rustle between us.

I gulped. "Grandma told me you used to sing. Why did you stop?"

She flinched, then went rigid and turned to me with wide eyes. "Did you ask her?"

"No, she just told me," I explained. "Why did you stop?"

"Did I ever tell you about my fiance? Before your dad?" she asked me rhetorically.

She didn't talk about life in Nigeria that much, so I shook my head.

"He hated the fact that I loved to sing," she spat. "He was jealous of the attention I got in church. Around people. Even his own father, who wanted to sign me. He wanted me all to himself. So I stopped singing."

I just thought the fiance was a stuffy doctor. He wanted to control Mom? No wonder she left Nigeria. How did Grandma Ekene leave out that part?

When I asked Mom about that, she scoffed. "She won't tell you. Your grandma loved him and loved the money he had. I never loved him. When I left him, I never wanted to sing again, even as a hobby."

"Is that why you've always discouraged me?"

Mom took a pregnant pause. A tear dripped from her eye.

"I did what was best for you," she croaked. "This record label, Fairouz, they all want to control you. Is that what you want?"

"They're not controlling me," I assured them. "I don't want to be mad at myself for singing. This has always been what I wanted, and I will not apologize for that."

She shrugged. "Okay. But don't say that I didn't warn you."

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