Tory and I met up with Ashanti before the three of us hopped in a cab. We informed her of what happened with the elderly woman in the apartment building as the driver drove in the direction of Jasmine’s place.

“So that explains why my apps weren’t workin’,” she said, sitting in between me and Tory in the backseat. “You think what’s goin’ on is givin’ people whatever they want?”

“Not sure,” I replied. “But I hope we never have to see another demon like those werewolves again.”

The cab passed by a health center and a local diner before heading through the freeway. It then turned right into a nice neighborhood where every house looked almost the same—grassy front lawns, brick roofs, and cream-colored exteriors with driveways. Tory whistled beside me, nodding at the people who walked along the sidewalk with their dogs. “Man, this how Jasmine’s livin’?” he asked with excitement.

The cab dropped us off at our destination: a home with a welcome mat on the ground that read, ‘Please wipe your feet upon entry’.

“Upon?” Tory mocked. “What is this, Shakespeare?”

“Quiet,” Ashanti hissed, elbowing him.

A light ‘ding-dong’ played after I rang the bell. The door was opened by an ebony-skinned man wearing a button-up shirt tucked in his pants.

“You kids selling chocolate or something?” he asked, staring at us through his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Uh, no, sir,” I answered, my eyes glancing down at the gold Rolex on his left wrist. That thing was glistening.

“Hon, who’s at the door?” A melodic voice asked further in the house. It didn’t sound like Jasmine.

The man continued to glare at us and replied, “I believe they’re kids from the volunteer shelter who’re selling cookies.”

Tory mumbled a mouthful of profanities behind me as a woman came to the door and greeted us with a smile. She had olive-toned skin and a thin nose that didn’t sit right on her face. Her honey-blonde hair was in curly ringlets that fell over her shoulder onto the yellow blouse she wore with blue jeans that hugged her curves.

“Ooh, you three are just the cutest,” she gushed. “Selling cookies, are you? Does that place need more money for books? Terrance, give them something. It motivates them to stay off the streets and not do drugs.”

Alright, I had to say something before Tory did. We’d never get answers about Jasmine if he went off on them.

“Sorry, ma’am. We aren’t sellin’ anythin’.”

“Nor are we from any volunteer shelter,” Ashanti added.

The two adults appeared confused as I explained, “We’re here to check on Jasmine. We’re friends of hers. Her boyfriend, CJ, was in an accident recently, so we wanted to see if she was doing okay.”

At the mention of CJ, both adults glanced at each other oddly. The man then huffed, “Right, the football player. I’m sorry, but she’s too busy to see you if you’re associated with him.”

“Are you serious?” Tory argued.

“Please, sir. It will only be for a minute,” Ashanti pleaded. “We’re only here ‘cause we care. Honest.”

The two looked at one another again before nodding. “Fine. Sasha, go and get the girl,” the man said. “You kids stay here. I don’t want you scuffing the floor with your kicks.” He then closed the screen door and walked further into the house until he was out of sight.

Tory groaned and shook his head. “We been through so much today just to speak to one person.”

It didn’t take long for that one person to come down the stairs and open the screen door. Not only was Jasmine wearing different attire from earlier, but her entire vibe had changed—almost like a different person completely.

Not to mention her eyes were red and puffy.

“Uh, hey? What’s up?”

“What’s up is you on that demon time,” Tory blurted. “And I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that cam work. Somethin’ wrong with you.”

“Could you be any ruder?” Ashanti berated him. She approached Jasmine closer. “Don’t mind him. How are you?”

Jasmine closed the door behind her and answered, “Not good, as I’m sure you can tell by looking at my face. There’s no reason to hide it; I feel like what happened to CJ is my fault. I still have feelings for him and try so hard to make him happy, but it’s difficult at times. I’m trying not to blame myself for getting him involved with Miguel, but…”

“Nah, you good,” I told her. “Him and Miguel been beefing for a minute. Somethin’ was bound to go down eventually.”

“No, you don’t get it,” she shot back with a sniffle. “It is my fault. Or, rather, its fault.”

Ashanti placed her hand on Jasmine’s arm. “What exactly do you mean? You can tell us.”

She sounded so comforting and reassuring. Jasmine must’ve felt the same way because she led us over to the sidewalk to express her emotions in private.

“Believe me or not, but there’s a thing—or other me that’s been running around ruining my life—that had sex with Miguel. Not me. It’s also what attacked you at the community college. It’s almost like another version of me that acts like the girl CJ desires me to be or something. You know, ratchet and lit all the time. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. I just want it all to stop.”

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Damn, this some messed up drama.

It appeared Jasmine’s Shadow-self was formed from CJ’s desire for her to be different and Jasmine’s confliction to change for him. This formula backfired, though, creating a monster that was out of control and doing things not even the real Jasmine would do.

I filled her in on everything I knew about the Shadows, resulting in her fiddling with a silver chain around her neck and saying, “It all makes sense. That demon is me.”

Ashanti pulled her to the side and asked, “CJ is a horrible boyfriend, isn’t he?

Jasmine backed away a bit, shuffling her feet from side to side with a shrug. She was always so self-assured at school, so to see her acting this hesitant and fragile was new to me.

Or maybe, this was the real her.

“I mean…he’s really sweet and funny at times,” she answered Ashanti. “Like, I know what you’re going to say, and yes, we fight and break up, but we make up and—”

“He talks to random girls, then apologizes and says it will never happen again with some romantic lines. Two weeks later, same thing, different scene? Yeah, that’s toxic as hell, sis.” Ashanti had her arms crossed with a serious look in her eyes. She continued, “He probably says dumb stuff like why can’t you be normal like whatever chick he’s talking to, right? And having conversations with him is more like a chore than actual fun?”

Jasmine’s lips pursed together. Reality was setting in.

“Jasmine, I know we don’t know each other like that,” Ashanti resumed, “but I won’t tolerate this guy being an abusive dick to you. He shouldn’t be talkin’ to you the way he does, and you shouldn’t have to put up with the way he treats you. It’s manipulative. He’s playin’ with your emotions. It’s hard enough as it is for us Black girls. We go through so much mess on the regular, but we’re Queens, you hear me? Not the shadows of a man’s desire.”

Tears fell from Jasmine’s eyes before she buried her face in Ashanti’s chest. Whispers of Ashanti’s voice could still be heard, with Jasmine nodding her head repeatedly.

“Everythin’ good?” I asked after giving them a minute or two.

“Yeah, she’s comin’ with us,” Ashanti replied. “The only way for her to be happy is to conquer her Shadow-self. She can’t be the object of CJ’s desire anymore. She’s gotta break this curse and start livin’ for herself. Either CJ respects that, or he’s out of her life. Period.”

Tory rubbed his hands together. “Cool, cool. So, where we headed? I’m itchin’ to get my revenge on that Shadow clone.”

“This isn’t your fight,” Ashanti told him. “Jasmine has to do this. Trust me, I’ve seen my mom go through so much abuse in her life from sorry ass men who thought they could rule over her. I know the signs, and I also know what needs to be done for Jasmine to put back on her crown and reclaim what’s hers.”

“My self-worth,” Jasmine mumbled. “I know where the other me is, and who it is with. We can go, but it might be dangerous.”

“We’re going no matter what,” Ashanti uttered. “Let’s go.”

☾☼☽

A cab dropped us off near an abandoned building in The Heights, where Miguel of all people stood across the street outside of a corner store. He was with four other dudes who I assumed were members of the Silicon Cogs. In the mix of them all was the Shadow Jasmine, who participated in their smoke session and loud banter.

“We settle this now,” Ashanti said, crossing the street with Jasmine’s hand in hers. She had given me her cell phone in the cab to borrow since mine had died. Lord knows we’ll need my power.

“Oh, what we got here?” Miguel laughed out after passing a blunt to the dude on his left. He took a sip from the bottle hidden in a brown paper bag before saying, “Jas, I ain’t know you had a twin.”

“I don’t,” Both Jasmines’ declared at the same time. The guys around the Shadow Jasmine cackled like hyenas.

“She’s a basic copycat,” The shadow Jasmine said, flipping her hand through her hair. “I’m who she wanna be.” She then snatched the paper bag out of Miguel’s hand and drank from it before making out with him.

“No way that’s sanitary,” Tory scoffed with disgust.

“Look, we don’t want no trouble, aight?” I told the group of guys. “We just wanna talk to that Jasmine.”

The dudes continued to laugh at us while Miguel spoke. “You hear this, boys? Headphones here don’t want no trouble. Nah, I remember you droppin’ some of my boys. You ‘bout that action. Same for your homie next to you.” He approached us closer. “Thing is, it ain’t gonna be like that this time.” My eyes drifted down to where he patted his white T-shirt. He had a strap tucked in his pants.

I backed away with my throat tightened. Ashanti placed her hand on my shoulder and said to Miguel, “We can all be civil. There’s no reason to fight.”

“Nah, we fightin’. Get’em.”

Two of the dudes ran up on me so fast I couldn’t avoid taking a couple of blows that knocked me to the ground. With a roll on the concrete, I managed to create a bit of distance between them and myself, but not enough to be out of striking range. They pummeled me over and over no matter how hard I tried to fight back. Pain and fatigue started to kick in as my body continued to take damage, only lessening once the hits slowed down.

“Ugh, c’mon,” I groaned in frustration while crawling away and repeatedly tapping on Ashanti’s phone. I wasn’t familiar with her cell’s interface, causing me to miss the play button on her music app. Thankfully, my finger touched it as I struggled to stand on my feet. The moment one of the thugs swung, my body reacted with a smooth dodge before delivering a punch of my own.

One down, one to go for me.

The emphatic sounds of saxophones and trumpets took over my hearing, generating a feeling of relaxation despite the danger in front of me. I didn’t feel as strong as when I listened to rap music, nor did I feel as elegant as when R&B music played, but the energy flowing through my body created a perfect harmony between the two.

And the best part: my body was healing.

No longer feeling fatigue or the pain from their blows, I went at the thug staring me down with a balance of punches and kicks that ended with his face in the ground. People passing by on foot and in their vehicles all stopped to witness the altercation, which wasn’t a good thing with Tory showcasing his video game abilities to knock out the two other goons that were with Miguel.

The Shadow Jasmine tried to exit the scene, but Ashanti and the real Jasmine stopped her in her tracks. Miguel attempted to intervene, but Tory and I stepped in front of him. He lifted his shirt to pull out his gun, but Tory immediately dropped him with a spinning kick to the jaw. It was crazy.

All that was left to deal with was the Shadow Jasmine, but that was none of my business.

I removed my headphones and looked on with Tory as both Jasmines locked eyes with one another. Ashanti stood behind the real Jasmine, supporting her in facing her demon.

“Thank you,” Jasmine voiced to the Shadow. “Thank you for showing me who I would become, so I know not to follow that path. I am my own person, and I will value who I am. You cannot make me into something I’m not, because I’m the queen. I make the decisions. Not you.”

Surprising us all, the Shadow did not rebuttal or attack. It only smiled before dissipating into nothingness. The issue at hand was finally over.

Jasmine and Ashanti walked over to us in relief, with the latter giving me a wink. I shot her a grin and said, “Nice music. It hit different. You gonna have to share that playlist with me sometime.”

She took her phone out of my hand. “That’s somethin’ I can make happen.”

Her words would’ve had me caught up in the moment if the loud astonishment of the onlookers didn’t kill the vibe. The four of us fled the scene before the police or other members of the Silicon Cogs could show up, but with this instance being another involvement with the gang, we weren’t sure how long we could run from the consequences.