Hollywood Hustle & Heart - Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - Mike
Chapter 2 - Mike
“Bro Talk”
Shorty was bad. No lie, she had me stuck for a second with those eyes. I could tell she was checking me out too—but dating? Nah, that’s not where my head’s at right now. I just locked in my third client for MikeVision Entertainment, and that’s all the fuel I need.
I was trying to build slow and steady, but God clearly had a different playbook. The way doors are opening? It’s wild. Especially in a city like L.A., where the competition's cutthroat and everybody’s chasing the next big thing. I didn’t want to bite off more than I could chew, so I built a system. Anyone who signs with me goes through a full-on values-based curriculum before I even start booking them work. This ain’t just about fame—it’s about legacy, faith, and keeping your soul intact in an industry that eats people alive.
Two years ago, I made the jump from San Francisco to L.A., off the strength of a few smart real estate flips. Copped my own luxury spot in Sherman Oaks and kept my real estate hustle alive from the crib. Me and my dog, Wachovia—a GreyBull Pit with more loyalty than most people I know—we’re good. At least on paper.
But truth be told? Something feels like it’s missing. I hit the 110, music turned up, cruising and thinking about what my mom said the other day. I couldn’t shake it. Maybe God was trying to get a message through.
“Son, don’t you think it’s time for you to settle down?”
That caught me off guard. My mom’s never been the type to nag about marriage or kids. In thirty-five years, she might’ve brought it up once a year—if that.
“Where’d that come from, Momma?”
“I was just wondering,” she said. “You’re killing it with your business, but I know a part of you has to want more. Don’t you ever think about coming home to somebody in that big ol’ house of yours?”
I didn’t have an answer at the time, but it stuck with me. Still had me thinking. Dating these days is a whole thing. Dating in Hollywood? A different beast. I’ve been in Cali for six years now, and my last real relationship was back in Philly. It didn’t end messy—it just ran its course. I’ve dated since then, but nothing clicked. Nothing felt… solid.
Earlier this year, I even prayed about it. Figured maybe it’s time to start thinking more seriously about settling down. Build something real. Legacy isn’t just business—it's personal, too. I glanced at my phone, sitting in traffic on the 110—easily one of L.A.’s most disrespectful freeways. It was just after six, and I knew the side streets would be even worse.
“This is wild,” I muttered, checking the Waze app to see how long I'd be stuck. “Might as well throw on a sermon.”
It was only seventy-eight degrees today, but I rolled up the windows and turned on the AC anyway. Blocking out the noise, I let the cool air fill the car. Laying my head back against the headrest, I thought about the woman I’d just seen. I wasn’t sure why my mind kept drifting back to that moment, but I wasn’t mad about it. I inched forward as the cars in front of me started to move. I smiled when my phone went off, showing a call on my Bluetooth. I answered.
“What? You actually made time for your little brother?” I laughed. “Color me shocked.”
“Whatever. What’s up, baby bro?”
Malachi, or Chi, as we called him, was thirty-eight, married five years, and had three kids I absolutely adored. My nieces and nephew were the closest thing I had to children, and honestly, I didn’t mind playing the fun uncle role.
“Just wrapped up another property sale,” I said, grinning. “Headed home now. You?”
“Same. On my way back to the fam. Just closed on that commercial spot Selena and I had our eye on.”
Everybody in my family was in the real estate game. Selena, his wife, was killing it in commercial. Malachi and I started in residential, but he’d been branching out lately.
“That’s big,” I said. “What’s the move tonight?”
“Why? Selena didn’t cook, so no—you can’t come raid the fridge,” he said, laughing.
“Ninja, please. You really think I was calling for leftovers? How you know I don’t got plans?”
Pause.
Then: “If you did, they probably involve hooping, closing deals, or hitting another seminar. Which is all… low-key boring.”
I played it off. “Wow. The disrespect. How do you know I don’t have a date?”
He chuckled. “Come on, man. Even you know it’s true. You got tunnel vision, and even if you did have a date, what difference does it make if it ends before it even gets started?”
He was joking, but for some reason it hit different. Had I really become that predictable?
Once upon a time, I was that dude in Philly—social life on ten, always moving, always surrounded. Now? My life was looking more like Grandpop’s—structured, stable… and maybe a little too quiet.
“Whoa. What’s that supposed to mean?”
He cleared his throat. “Look bro. You haven’t dated in years and when you do, you never date with intention.”
I took a deep breath. I knew this had to be God. First, my mother says something to me about settling down, now my brother was sharing something with me that I’d never heard before. Instead of pushing back, I leaned in.
“Do you think that’s why I haven’t settled down?” The solemn tone in my voice scared even me. I was serious.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. I was just joking.”
“No, bro. It’s cool, and like we always say, there’s some truth to every joke,” I said. Traffic was finally moving with a flow again. I put my foot on the gas and continued toward home. “Mom mentioned something about me settling down recently and now, you mention this like its been on your heart for a minute,” I continued.
“Dang, for real? I didn’t know that. Maybe God is trying to tell you something. Hold on. That’s Selena.”
While I waited, I thought about my last relationship. Things were cool, but I knew Melanie wasn’t the one. She was ambitious, focused and deeply rooted in Christ. But there was no real chemistry. I needed something beyond looks and drive.
“Alright, I’m back,” he said, cutting into my déjà vu moment. “Here’s what I think. You pause anything before you have a chance to get serious. It’s like you look for something to be wrong.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, a habit I had since I was a kid. “I was with Melanie for a year. It just didn’t hit after awhile. I’m not saying it was bad, but it wasn’t enough for me to settle down.”
“Then, y’all shouldn’t have slept together,” he said, causing me to wince. “Listen, when I met Selena, it wasn’t just her looks and her love for God that got me. It was the way she made me feel when I was with her. I could talk to her about anything and never once did I want to dishonor our courtship by sleeping with her. I’m not judging you bro, I’m giving you something to think about.”
I sped up. I had a few more miles before my exit, but I started veering over anyway. “Naw, bro. You know how we do. I’m not as offended as I was when we first started talking about this. But you just said something that caught my attention. Do you think I’ll know the one when I want to honor her like that?”
I could hear him pulling into his gravel driveway. “You mean by refraining from having sex?”
“Yeah. I’m not saying that’s the only thing, but maybe you’re right. We know having sex can throw off our judgment.”
“Well, any woman you’re with should be pushing you closer to God and your purpose. I think it’s deeper than that though. What are you really afraid of, baby bro?”
I knew he was serious when he called me ‘baby bro’. To be honest, until now, I had never thought about the fact that I didn’t date with intention. I thought being focused on one woman meant that I was being intentional, but now, I could tell that it was so much more than that. I needed to sit down and pray about this.
“I’m not sure, bro. But I know you’ve got me thinking,” I said, finally hitting my exit. “I’m going to be busy tonight, just not with the things you mentioned.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, slamming his car door. “With what?”
“Praying. I need to ask God some questions. I mean, you’re married and we grew up in the same household. So, what’s keeping me from settling down for real?”
He sighed. “Dang, bro. I didn’t know this conversation would go here. Maybe it’s a good thing I followed that nudge to call you.” He paused. I heard him speaking to my niece, Camara, in the background.
“Hey, Cam Cam,” I said, grinning.
“Uncle Mike said ‘hi’,” he said.
“Hey, Uncle Mike,” she said, hollering through the phone.
“Let me let you go, bro,” I said. All of a sudden, I felt a longing in my chest that came out of nowhere. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
“No,” he said. “Cam just went back in the house. I’m going to pray with you now. I want to see you happy, bro. If God gave you a desire to get married, then I want to partner with you in prayer about it.”
For some reason, I choked up. I was afraid to speak because I knew he would hear the tears in my voice. This conversation definitely took a turn.
“Alright, bro. I would appreciate that.”
He prayed over me, dropped a couple scriptures to meditate on, then we hung up. Ten minutes later, I was pulling into my driveway, still replaying his words. Malachi had me all messed up. Thoughts started coming in waves. Where was this fear even coming from? Would God really send me a wife if I wasn’t dating with real intention? How would I even know she was the one? And could I actually stay disciplined—abstain—for real, while dating?
I stepped into the house slower than usual. My 3,500 square foot sanctuary didn’t hit the same tonight. The peace I normally felt walking through that door was… off. Maybe it was the silence. Or maybe it was the fact that—for the first time in a while—I was really feeling my singleness. I grabbed a cold sparkling water from the fridge, then sank into the couch. Closed my eyes. And just like that, my mind drifted back to a memory I’d been trying to forget for years.
“You’re not taking my boys!” my mother shouted.
My father, Rance, towered over us, arms stretched like he was ready to scoop me and Malachi up and drag us out with him.
“They’re my boys too,” he snapped. “If you think I’m leaving without them, you’re dumber than I thought.”
His voice shook something in me. I froze. Looked over at Malachi—he was still. Too still. No fear. No flinch. Just locked in.
I reached for his hand. That broke the trance.
He gripped my hand tight and pulled us both toward Mom. Our father didn’t react fast enough—Malachi’s track-star reflexes were too quick.
“We’re not going anywhere with you,” he said, voice firm and low.
My father’s jaw dropped. He stormed over, grabbed my arm.
“Mike’s always been closer to me,” he spat. “You keep the momma’s boy. But I’m taking baby boy.”
Malachi tugged one arm. My father pulled the other.
And then—I snapped. Stomped on his foot and yanked free.
“No! Leave us alone!” I shouted, louder than I’d ever dared.
Silence. He stared at me, stunned. And I knew—we’d won.
Ten minutes later, he was out the door, dragging his suitcase and his pride with him.
My phone buzzed, jerking me back to the present. I wiped my face and checked the screen. It was a text from Chi.
Bro, I was thinking about our convo. I remember in pre-marital counseling, they brought up how our dad walking out messed with me more than I thought. I had to deal with that before I could really give Selena my all. Just a thought. Love you. Call me if you need me.
I shook my head and let out a soft laugh. God really had a wild way of answering prayers—sometimes before we even pray them.
Here I was, asking what I was so afraid of… and He showed me. Clear as day.
I wasn’t scared of love.
Wasn’t scared of commitment.
I was scared of failing at it.
Scared of becoming the man who walked out.
Scared of becoming him.