I’ll change you before I change the sheets, baby

“Um. Let’s run it again.”
“Did you get it??”
“Um, yeah. We got something. But I don’t think we got it yet. I think a couple more takes will do the trick.”
“Fine, man. But I’m not doing this shit all night.”

The beat comes back in and blares off the walls of the small recording studio. DamianNine8, a prominent R&B singer from around the way, steps back in front of the mic and adjusts his headphones.

*Ti-ti-KAK-ti-ti-ti-ti-KAT*

It’s a trap style drum pattern with a strong kick, crisp hi-hats and a small soul sample behind it. Very simple arrangement, it’s really all about the vocals at this point.

Damian’s silky tone takes it away:
“🎶 I’ll change you before I change the sheets…
Before I change my mind
Before I get off my grind
Babygirl, I could prolly change the weather, I could prolly change the world…
But I ain’t nothin unless I change my girl 🎶”

The engineer, over the intercom:
“Cool. We got it. I like it.”

Exiting the booth:
“Damn right you do. I’m not the voice for nothin.”

A man, about the same age as Damian, sitting behind the recording engineer on a nearby couch, reaches out to Damian for a dap. He speaks in a slow, giggly cadence.
“Ay bro, that shit hard for real. SKsksk. Change my girl before I change the sheets I’m WEAK bro”
“Glad you fw it man”
“Nah fr bro, I think it’s gonna be a hit lol”

Damian grabs his keys and heads for the exit, letting everyone know his intentions:
“Aight y’all, listen I gotta go handle some shit. But let me know how it turns out. I’ma be back first thing tomorrow.”

---

Damian arrives home, and places his keys and phone on the bedside table. He takes off his outfit and hops in the shower. He hums the tune he was just recording, as the water cleanses him of the 20-hour studio session stank.

“🎶 Mmmm mmmm mmmmm
Mm-mm mmmmm mmm mmmmmmm 🎶

Haha yeah that shit is fire.”

Damian exits the shower, puts a towel around his waist and sits on the edge of the bed, checking his phone. One new text message from a KAYSIA was received 11 minutes ago:

Babe I’m omw to the restaurant. Going to be there in 20

“Ah shit.”

Damian hustles over and fishes through his dresser. He grabs a fresh pair of draws, a pair of socks and a beater from a washed and neatly tucked row. He takes off the towel and throws it on the bed, putting on the draws while standing. He goes to sit back on the edge of the bed, moving the towel aside he just tossed, when he notices that the towel is now folded in quarters and completely dry.

“What the f…”

Paying it no mind, he keeps moving through to get these clothes on. He starts by putting one sock on one foot, and another sock on the other. Then, he puts the fresh beater on. As it comes down over his head, he feels a cylindrical object wedged up against his hip, nestled in the indent he’s making in the mattress.

It’s a bottle of lotion.

“Oh shit. Need this.”

Damian stands, rubbing lotion all over his body until he’s moisturized all over.

Then, he goes to put on the same pants he had on from the recording session. Locating his belt, he strings it through half of the belt loops when his phone rings. It’s Kaysia. He sits back down on the edge of the bed and picks up:

“Ayyy, what’s up, baby. You said you just parked? Okay, okay. Yeah, I’m on my way. No doubt. I’ll be there in no time. I know parking is craaaazy down there, so it probably took you awhile. I’m probably gonna have to go through that same struggle. But I can’t wait to see you. Yeah. Yeah. Okay, bye.”

He hangs up. When he looks down to continue putting on the belt, it’s completely around his waist with the buckle cinched.

“Hmmmm?”

He shrugs it off, and rushes back over to the dresser again.

“Okay, need a shirt, need a shirt. Ummmm”

He fishes through and snatches out a folded white t-shirt, but with the snatch he accidentally pulls out two white t-shirts. The other one flies out and lands in a pile on the floor next to him.

“God damnit.”

He throws the one shirt on and runs to the bed with the other one in hand. He lays it down on the edge of the bed and proceeds to fold it neatly back to its storable shape. Face down… then left sleeve inward… left shirt third inward. Right sleeve inward… right third inward. Fold in half length-wise. He then delicately places it back in the dresser with the other folded shirts. But then he stops for a moment, realizing something perplexing.

Rotating around, he sees that the bed has been completely stripped and all the bedding sits in a pile on top of the bare mattress — next to the towel which is no longer neatly folded, in a pile of its own.

“Yo. What’s going on here?”

But his eyes catch the clock sitting bedside and seeing 5 minutes have passed, he begins to panic. He runs to the bathroom and hastily puts on cologne while he swishes around listerine in his mouth.

“GGggrrRRgggRGRGGRRRrrrr….”

Damian hustles out of the bathroom. He throws on his chains, and a short sleeve button up. This will have to do. But as he turns for his bedroom door, the sheets from the bed are laid out on the floor in the shape of a heart. The pillow cases form two eyes and a smile inside of it.

“The fuck?

Kaysia?

What’s going on? Are you in here?”

Damian scours his closet and bedroom, looking under and between things.

“Kay?? Listen, baby. I thought you said you were at the restaurant. What is this?

You did this for me?”

Damian turns back to look at the heart on the floor, but he sees the smiley face inside it is now upside down, with angled-down eyebrows, denoting anger.

“Aight, that’s enough Kay. I’m not fucking with this shit. You know I don’t like surprises. I told you that shit awhile back. I’m the one who does the surprising. Not you! See this what I be saying, you don’t listen to me. Now I’m like paranoid and shit, looking over my shoulder and shit. Answer me!

Yo!! What’s goin on?? Kaysia!!”

“Stop saying that bitch name.”

Rising behind Damian, a tall mass emerges. It is unlike anything he’s ever seen: a collection of fabric, crumpled together and stiff in some parts, with a slight odor. For a second, Damian can’t make out what he’s witnessing — the movements are flowy and and unpredictable. Until an outstretched cotton hand gives clarity: The Sheets — his sheets — have formed into a menacing humanoid figure, A 300-thread count mutant standing in between Damian and his bedroom door.

“What the fuck??”

Damian slaps the hand away and runs to the bedside drawer to grab something. The Sheets speak in a bellowing, cavernous snarl, but with a little sass:

“It’s not there. I hid it while you were in the shower.”

“Yo what the fuck is going on? Get outta my crib! I gotta fucking go see my girl, bro”

“Why do you keep bringing her up? Are you trying to punish me even more?”

“What…”

The Sheets take a step closer. Damian takes a step back.

“I just wanna talk. I want us to get back on the same page, I feel like things haven’t been the same lately. I wanted to do something nice for you… so you could see.”

“I can’t believe this shit, bro…”

“Damian! Talk to me!!”

“Yo where where did you hide it? I just wanna see something.”

“Damian, don’t play that shit. You don’t even have any ops. You do R&B. What, you gonna shoot me now?”

“Come. on. man. What the fuck. Okay, so you feel a little neglected, whatever. Get outta my way!”

“Neglected?? Like this?? What are you talking about, Damian? Neglect was me months ago. I’m way past neglect. I stink, I have stains everywhere. I don’t feel put together. Everything about me is shell of what I was when you first laid me down. Is this how you want me to be? This is you doing this! Not me!”

“Oh my god. What is going on, bro”

Damian’s phone rings. It’s Kaysia.

“Oh, god. This bitch again. What are you gonna do, Damian? How about you tell her what’s going on?”

The Sheets step even closer to Damian, pushing him towards the bed.

“The fuck is there to tell?”

“Tell her about how you hid me all the times that you made love with her. And all those times you were on the phone with her in bed late at night, tell her I was right there with you. Tell her that I’m just as important in your life. Or you know what, maybe you should tell her about how you treat me. Is this how you’re going to treat her once shit gets stale?”

“Bro…. What….”

“All I’m asking for is that you take care of me, just this once. Like you do her.”

With one flick of The Sheets’ wrist, all the drawers from Damian’s dresser thrust open and we see the neatly stacked rows of white-t shirts, socks and underwear.

“You even pay more attention to your clothes than you do me, but I do so much for you. Why don’t I get the same in return, Damian?”

Damian doesn’t respond. The Sheets’ voice cracks and rises in intensity.

“Talk to me Damian!!”

The Sheets advance even further until it forces Damian to sit back down on the edge of the bed, where all of this started. Damian looks around for an escape but The Sheets are now standing over Damian, looking down at him.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

The Sheets sit beside him on the bed, leaning in.

“Yes?”

“Look I got a tide pen somewhere around here, how about I give you that and we can — ?”

“Damian!!”

Damian glances at the clock. Next to it, Kaysia is calling again.

“Aight, aight. Look look look, I gotta go to this dinner. But on my way back I’ll pick up some of that premium organic detergent and we can do it together. Just sit tight right here.”

The Sheets stand back up, blocking his path to the door.

“No! Not good enough!!”

“What the fuck do you want then? Can’t you see I’m trying?”

“The number of times I’ve heard you say that to women, while you were right on top of me. I’m not falling for that shit, Damian. I want us to be good. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“So don’t.”

“Fuck you, Damian! I folded your towel for you. I helped you get ready. But I didn't do it so you could ignore my feelings. I did it so we could talk. But it’s clear you just don’t care about me.”

“Fuck me? That what you said? Fuck me, huh?”

“I’m standing right here, Damian. No running any more.”

There is a calm hush in the room once The Sheets says this. Damian pauses, then looks inward, lowering his head and taking the demands in. The Sheets wait for his response.

Damian raises his head:

“🎶 MmmmMmmmMMmmmm
O0o0oohhh yeahhhhh 🎶”

We can see Damian’s adam’s apple starts moving up and down as he begins singing a silky melody, much to the suprise of The Sheets. The Sheets, knees buckling, sit down beside him. Coming face to “face” with the Sheets, he belts out:

“🎶 Baaaaaaaaby-giiiirl
You know you are my wooorld 🎶”

Damian reaches out and holds The Sheets’ shoulder with a slight caress. Then, his hand moves to the face region.

“Omg, Damian don’t dooo this.”

“🎶 I knooooowwww I ain’t been no good to youuuuu
But it’s because I can’t stop thinking about youuuuuuu 🎶”

In the same snarling octave, The Sheets giggle blushingly.

“Omg, Damian! Stopppp, you are too much.”

The both fall back and lay down on the bed, with feet hanging off of it. Despite this, Damian astonishingly manages to keep his voice at the same silky tone and pitch as he continues.

“🎶 The waaaaaaaayyyy — 
you hoooooold me dooooowwwwwnnnn
I can’t breathe when you’re Nooooot
aaaarrrrrouunnnddddd 🎶”

For the next couple moments, they frolic around the mattress, holding one another as Damian continues to serenade. Off one of Damian’s falsettos, the fitted sheet dislodges from The Sheets’s other sheets and the elastic cinches around them, nesting them like a cocoon. Inside, Damian turns up the passion.

“🎶 AAaaaand IIIII — 
want youuu to KNooooooow
That you’re my everythiIiiIiiIiing!!! 🎶”

Off this note, there is a large FLUFF as the fitted sheet puffs out in one quick motion, like a tiny cotton explosion. As it settles, there’s a heavy breathing sound:

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“That’s some new shit I’m working on. You’re the first to hear it”

“It was beautiful, Damian. Ugh, your voice.”

“Thank you.

Listen, I’m not perfect. But I know I’m moving towards something better.

Can you be patient with me?”

“Mmmmhmm. Yes. Yes, I can.”

“You’re the best. I’m gonna go now.”

Damian slips off, grabbing his keys on the way out. The Sheets lay on the mattress with limbs spread, still breathing heavily.
As Damian rushes out of the apartment, he passes the dormant washing machine by the front door.
On it, a simple command blinks on and off:

CHOOSE CYCLE