March 9, 2024: Matthew E. Harper is finally ready to reveal everything about his life, public and personal, in an exclusive tell-all interview with The Daily Buzz. You may know Matthew as Neo Soul singer song-writer DeWayne, from smash hits “Sweet Sugar", "Lady" - and of course you remember the groundbreaking, sizzling hot video for “The Way It Feels“.
From his religious upbringing to him dropping out of college, from his musical breakout to his several accolades defying all odds, from his troubles with the law, relationships and family struggles, to his social activism...and of course we're going to cover those infamous pictures taken from his 50th birthday party just a month ago, where he's shown being intimately close with another man.
He declined to answer any questions from the media about what happened, and he hasn't rejected (or confirmed) the unforeseen rumours of something more than just a bromance. Not anymore: he's given us exclusive access to his life.
At last, DeWayne tells all, and like in his “The Way It Feels” video, he finally bares all.
I trust this email finds you well. (That's how you open formal emails right?) This is Matthew E. Harper, but you might know me under another name: DeWayne. Before I continue I need your total, absolute discretion. It's important that you keep this email and conversation between us.
I'd like to discuss something with you. A story, perhaps? It’s for an interview, exclusive to The Daily Buzz. A lot has happened in the last few weeks. I turned 50, which was great, and I posted some pictures online of my family. You know what pictures I’m talking about. The one where I’m “intimately close to another dude”, as the media reported it (I believe that was the New York Times?). The media has reported on so many angles, getting a lot wrong. I have a story on my soul, and I want to hand it to you. Could we get together to talk about it? I'd rather do this face to face. Let me know when and where, but most importantly, if you're down for this. This would be my fourth opus. It is yours.
Let me know.
PS. You probably receive so many similar correspondences from imposters impersonating celebrities and other notorious people. I can assure you that I'm the real deal, but if you're looking for verification then here, take this number: +1-206-913-7412.
It's my personal number. Give me a call. Let's talk about it. Reach out and see that it's me.
We have lots to discuss.
With love, always.
I walk home. I could’ve gotten into Ben’s car and shared the fare with him. He probably would’ve taken care of the bill like he did with the drinks. I’m sure he’ll expense it anyway, so I guess that’s no trouble for him.
I know the city pretty well, and judging by where we are, I can tell it’ll take me roughly half an hour to get home. I usually get some music on to take me over, but not this time. I have way too many thoughts in my head to just drown them in music. I don’t want to numb myself with Spotify playlists, nor do I want to silence my thoughts. I’ve learnt in my 30+ years of existence not to silence my subconscious, that voice (or voices, it depends on the day really) that guides you, or at least tries to.
I close my jacket to retain as much warmth as possible. I can tell it’s going to be a rainy night, it’s already started drizzling a bit. I can deal without an umbrella, which I don’t have anyway. I’ll be fine - my black leather jacket and black jeans will soak up the raindrops. I’ll be fine.
Ben dropped quite a few interesting points, but I think mine made more sense if we’re being totally honest. I’ve been smelling the smoke, yet he’s telling me that they’re about to show some gourmet meals, and I’m here worried because I know for a fact that I can’t stomach burnt food. I hope they don’t make a barbecue out of us. I hope we don’t all just crash and burn. I really hope not.
I get home. The cat greets me at the door. She’s been waiting. She goes round and round my feet, before stroking her tail against my jeans, then running to the bedroom. I guess she’s going to bed. Or perhaps she’s smelled how tired I am, and is hinting that perhaps I should take a long nap. Either way, she’s right, as always.
I’m too tired to have a last can of beer, or self-medicate. I head over to the kitchen, fill up the kettle. Turn it on. Get the mug out, the black one. I pick up a bag from the chamomile box. I drop it in the mug. I squeeze a bit of Manuka honey on the bag, until it’s covered by a light orange gooey bit of sunshine. The kettle is ready. I pour some hot water in the mug, careful not to make the bag burst. I grab a teaspoon from the rack, and start stirring, slowly, looking at the vortex forming right in the middle of the mug. A vortex of chamomile, honey surrounded by hot water. That’s what working for The Daily Buzz feels like right now: you’re in a great environment, everything tastes sweet, until you wake up and realise that you’re just spinning in a vortex of boiling water, drowning.