Chapter Three #5
Al was slightly confused by Dexter’s disposition.
He never said anything about Logic needing a mentor, and nothing about his best friend was average.
It was clear Dexter was trying to little dog them, and Al wasn’t feeling it.
On the phone, Dexter praised Logic’s talent, and the switch-up had Al thinking he had missed something.
While they stood there, it was obvious Dex was going out of his way not to chop it up with them, and Logic caught it all.
In a room full of niggas wearing iced out chains, big face watches, and top of the line gear, this basic man stood out, and it bothered Dexter.
He kept popping his shit, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over to Logic, who looked unimpressed with everything going on around him.
Dexter silently reasoned that if Logic wanted a record deal, he damn sure wasn’t acting like it.
Sure, his rapping abilities were out of this world, but Dexter was the big dog, and if Logic wanted in, he needed to see a little groveling or something.
Standing there like a stuck-up ass nigga wasn’t going to cut it.
“Hey yall,” Tyler’s soft voice caught the attention of every man standing around, and her brazen outfit had them salivating at the mouth.
The miniskirt she wore exposed her thick, tatted thighs, leaving little to the imagination.
“Dex, I’m ready.” She lovingly stroked his back, but to her dismay, he kept right on talking like he didn’t hear her.
Like he couldn’t feel her presence, like her sweet perfume didn’t make his nose tingle and dick twitch because that was the exact effect it had on Logic.
“'Cause you know how the fuck I do,” Dex gloated, pulling at the chains on his neck, ignoring Tyler. “Bitches be all on a nigga jock and shit,” he chuckled, slapping hands with a laughing Tilly, who seemed to be the only one encouraging his bullshit.
“Dex, I said I’m ready,” she repeated, this time snapping her fingers in his face.
“I’m still kicking it. Ride with Aria, I’mma be right behind yall,” Dex dismissed her and kept right on talking, making Tilly chuckle.
Tyler licked her top lip before releasing a small laugh. She swore she was going to be on her best behavior, but in true Dex form, he was on bullshit, putting her patience to the test. As soon as she parted her lips to flip out on him, a deep voice stopped her.
“Baby girl,” the voice caused her head to snap and Dexter’s eyebrows to hitch. “You pretty as fuck and you smell good,” Logic said with a stroke to his chin. “What are you wearing?”
“This nigga,” Al sniggered, knowing any chance of them working with Dex went right out of the window.
“Uh-” Tyler stuttered, taken aback by the way the stranger's eyes boldly roamed her face before lowering to her exposed cleavage. She immediately recognized him as the asshole who bumped into her after the concert ended. Unconsciously, her gaze fell to the tip of his pink tongue that rolled across his thick lips, making her forget Dex was standing there. Tyler didn’t know if it was the shots she consumed in the dressing room before exiting or the cockiness in his eyes, but she felt hot.
“Aye, my man. This my girl,” Dexter barked, bringing Tyler back to her senses. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture.
“Straight up?” Logic feigned surprise, never taking his eyes off Tyler. “But what kinda perfume is that though?” Logic didn’t care that her nigga was standing there. The clown didn’t even acknowledge her when she approached them, leaving Logic to think she was fair game.
“It’s-” she started, feeling obligated to answer him.
“Ty, don’t fucking play with me,” Dex gritted. “You didn’t hear me?” He thumbed his nose, focusing on Logic, who wouldn’t even give him eye contact.
“Gotta be deaf or something,” Tilly instigated. He, for one, knew that Dex didn’t play when it came to Tyler. Staring at her too long was a violation, and could likely get your shit blown out, so he could only imagine what complimenting her got you.
“Nah.” Logic rolled his shoulders. “What did you say?”
“I said this my girl.”
“Oh, aight.” Logic allowed his eyes to take in Tyler one last time before slowly backing away. He heard Dexter but simply didn’t give a fuck. “Al, I’ll be in the car.”
“The fuck this nigga on?” Marty frowned, watching Logic bop down the hall with his hands in his pockets.
“What’s up with your boy?” Dex questioned. “That was disrespectful as fuck.”
“I’mma head out.” Al glossed over his comment.
“Aight.” Dex nodded. “You’re more than welcome to tag along to the after party, just leave your boy at home. I was gone try to mentor the nigga, but-”
“Mentor? The fuck is you saying right now? I never told you he needed a mentor, so why you keep saying that shit?” he sneered, obviously insulted by what Dex thought was a good gesture. “And nigga, I didn’t even play tag in elementary, the fuck I look like running up behind another nigga? Be easy.”
“Yea, you too,” Dex responded, slightly caught off guard. He was used to non-industry niggas flocking to him, begging to hang with him because he had motion. Niggas were spending their kids' college funds to keep up with him.
“Them niggas weird.” Tilly shook his head, watching Al walk in the same direction as Logic. “So, what’s up, we hitting the club?” he quizzed, but Dex didn’t hear him. He was too busy burning a hole in the side of Tyler’s face. Now it was her turn to ignore him.
“You was about to tell that nigga what you wearing?”
“Huh?” Tyler looked up from her phone, trying to figure out why she couldn’t find any of her contacts. “This dumb ass phone.”
“If you can huh, you can fucking hear.” He roughly grabbed her arm. “You just gone disrespect me like that?”
“Ouch.” Tyler tried to pull away from him, but Dexter tightened his grip. “It’s just perfume. You act like he asked for my bra size.”
“Don’t play with me,” he gritted against her ear. “Don’t make me fuck you up. Have you walking in the club with a fat ass lip.”
Everyone standing next to them turned their attention elsewhere. They heard Dexter’s threat loud and clear. This wasn’t their first time witnessing Dexter being rough with Tyler, yet neither of them ever intervened.
“Not you bothered by a compliment from a random ass nigga,” Tyler laughed, yanking away from him.
“You think that shit funny?” He stepped in her face. “I’ll slap the fuck outta you in this bitch and dare a nigga to help you up.”
“Dex, if you put your hands on me, we’re both going to jail tonight.”
“I’m not worried.”
“But you’re worried about a random comment from a guy I don’t even know,” Tyler snorted. “So, yea, I think it’s funny.”
“I’mma see how funny that shit is later,” Dex threatened. “Let’s go.” He yanked on her arm.
“Aht aht, Aria is waiting for me.” She backed out of his grasp. “I’ll see you at the club.”
???
About an hour later, Logic fumbled with his phone, getting pissed that his passcode wasn’t working.
He told his sisters that he didn’t want a dumbass iPhone, but they swore it was the best thing since welfare.
They young asses didn’t know shit about welfare, so he didn’t know why he listened to them.
Now he was locked out for five minutes, and the dumb shit switched the lock screen picture to the rude ass cutie he bumped into backstage at the concert.
Logic didn’t even have any pictures of her in his phone, so he knew the iPhone was bullshit.
“Aye, call my phone,” he requested, glancing over at Al, who was sitting in the passenger seat, bobbing his head to Logic’s new hit.
The song was only on YouTube with a couple thousand hits, but Al was proud of his boy.
Getting him to release the song was like pulling teeth, but after much convincing, Logic dropped the song and allowed the universe to do its thing.
“Yo phone in yo hand.” Al cast his eyes down to the phone in Logic’s hand.
“No shit, Sherlock. The dumb shit locked. I need to see if it’ll ring.”
“Oh.” Al shook his head. “For you to be so young, you act like a fucking dinosaur. How you lock yourself out of your phone?”
“Shut up and call me.” Logic made a mental note to get his Android back. Steve Jobs and the whole Apple organization could suck his dick.
Al gave him the finger before doing as he was told. Unlocking his phone, he clicked on Logic’s number and waited for the phone to ring. Logic stared at the phone in his palms, waiting to feel it vibrate, but nothing happened. No lights, no ringing, no fucking vibration.
“See this some bul-
“Hello?” A soft voice yelled over the music.
“Uh, who this?” Al curiously asked, glancing over at Logic, who sat all the way up in his seat.
Beep beep beep
“The fuck?” Logic frowned, snatching the phone.
He redialed his number only for it to ring once and then go to voicemail. His fucking voicemail. “Yo this Lo, hit me later or not at all.” Vexed, Logic called again, and this time the same soft voice flowed through, only this time she was rapping.
“I just got a wax, pussy looking like Steve Harvey. He put that horse to work and fuck around and call it Charlie. Gimme head bop,” she slurred. “Who is this and why you keep calling my phone? Wait, how’d you even get this number? Ari, these groupies got my number again.”
“Aye, I’m calling my phone and yo tone deaf ass keep answering it. Who is this?” Logic questioned, but he already knew who it was. Her voice was distinct, and even when she talked, it sounded like she was singing.
“Big Glo,” she clowned.
“Nigga you got Glorilla phone?” Al excitedly asked. “Aye, tell her you rap! Matter fact, just bust a flow. See if she with that nigga Gotti! CMG in this bitch. I’m not from Memphis, but I can get with that shit mane.”
“Move.” Logic switched the phone to his other ear while glaring at his best friend. “Look, you got my shit, tell me where you at and I'll meet you so we can switch.”