20. Blair
Blair
It had been a week since we had gotten back from Bali, and I hadn’t seen Quasim once. He still checked in through text messages and called me. His mother had finally woken up, and things were stressful for the Inferno family right now, so I was giving him space to be.
I wanted to be there for him, however, I didn’t want to look like a clingy fool that wouldn’t give him the space to breathe. In Bali, I realized that I had come off as super aggressive with what I wanted, and maybe I forced him into agreeing to things with me.
Who was I kidding?
Nobody could tell Quasim Inferno what to do or how to feel. That was a me problem that I needed to work on. The man had been running or distancing himself from me for so long that I was the one scared. Other than the occasional phone call and text messages, I pushed on with my own work. Since being back from California, I hadn’t been working nearly as much as I should have.
I looked out the front window of the studio and watched as Yasin pulled up and parked his bike across the street. No matter how much he ran from me, he was going to make sure there was an Inferno God somewhere close to me.
I rounded the counter and opened the door. “I bought lunch… there’s enough for you.”
Yasin laughed. “Shit, bring it out here to me then… how long you in the studio today?”
“Our last class of the day is wrapping up now… why?”
He looked at his watch. “Hassan had class today so he couldn’t come through… Sim asked me to stick around until your last class.”
“Is he coming?”
Yasin shrugged his shoulder. “That nigga don’t tell us shit… Sim moves in silence; we see him when he pop the fuck up.”
I went back into the studio, going into the break room and grabbed the chicken sticks and shrimp rolls I had been obsessed with from the Chinese restaurant on the same block as the studio. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach because I choked down two and couldn’t eat the rest.
Yasin was sitting on his bike, scrolling on his phone as I crossed the street with the container and a bottle of water. “Good looking, B.”
He ripped into the container and didn’t wait a second before he bit into the chicken stick. “I saw Kiki the other day… I went to her for a hair consultation.”
“And this is relevant information to me, how?” He ripped open the duck sauce packages and squeezed it on his egg roll before taking a bite.
I folded my arms. “Everyone knows that you have a crush on Kiki… why are you acting like you don’t?”
He chewed while staring at me. “Kiki a different kind of woman.”
“A grown ass woman, not one of those little bitches you be floating around here.” I raised my brow.
“You been around Quasim too much.”
“Answer the question, or no more free meals when you’re out here.” I threatened him while laughing.
He chuckled and opened the water bottle, guzzling half the bottle before returning his attention back to me. “You right. She’s older than me and knows what the fuck she wants… she don’t have time for useless conversation and games.”
“And you are full of useless conversation and games?”
“Nah.” He chewed.
“Then why are you scared to approach her? Might I add, she’s only thirty-four, which isn’t old at all… so pipe down.”
“I’m not calling her old… I’m twenty-eight. Feel older at times because life forced me to jump off the porch early. Either way, I guess her age and her being so sure of who she is and what she wants got a nigga scared.”
“Like a family and a commitment?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want those things?”
He nodded his head up and down. “Eventually, yeah. I want to be a father, and husband… I’m not scared of those things.”
“Then what are you afraid of, Yasin?”
“You the one that said I’m afraid… a nigga not afraid and already know how to come with her. Just taking my time with her, feel me?”
“Hmm. Don’t take too much damn time… I just know you messing with some bitches in your club.”
He pointed the stick that the chicken had been on before he demolished it. “Why you assuming shit. I don’t fuck my dancers… you ain’t never heard not to shit in the bank?”
“I have never heard anyone say that before.”
“Now you have… my dancers strictly work for me. I have bitches I fuck with, nothing too serious.”
My phone pinged, showing me a Media News alert.
Media News (Celeb gossip): Zay and Grace seen together at his show in Prague. Are the couple back together? Or is she just supporting her ex-boo?
My jaw clenched and I knew I had no right for it to. Not when I was fucking Quasim in the back of the sprinter van in Bali. There was this nagging annoyed feeling I had because he sat in my face and said they were done.
I may have been a hypocrite because even with me saying I was done with Sim, I knew damn well if he told me to come, I was scooting my ass across the floor to get to him. Zay had been calling me and I kept telling him that I was busy, and we would catch up soon.
Then he texted me that he was back in the country before going to Africa. I’ve been ignoring his invitation to come out because I knew I needed to tell him that we needed to cool things for now.
“Your fish died or something?”
I laughed. “Zay and Grace were seen with each other and it bothered me.”
Yasin laughed. “Don’t let Quasim be bothered, cause he gonna torch that nigga. Seriously, B… it may be cute to play little back and forth games to get him jealous, but that nigga ain’t there all the way. While you being cute, you gonna get that man fucking killed to show you he not playing.”
I gulped. “He would?—”
“I’ve been riding behind Quasim for a long time… a nigga has seen some shit, and I know that nigga don’t be just talking.” He handed me the empty container and water bottle. “You gotta know what comes with coming into that Queen Inferno role, B.”
“I was going to break it off with him.” I said, before walking across the street back into the studio.
“Yo, B!” Yasin called.
I turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
“He one of my favorite rappers… I’m gonna be sick if I gotta wear him on a shirt.” Yasin started laughing so hard that he was choking.
“Go to hell, Yasin!”
“I thrive there, B.” He saluted, as he settled back on his bike and pulled his phone out, and I laughed, and shook my head.
Synthia worked at the studio and ran the different classes for me when I was traveling. Our clients loved her because she was so good at her job, and she was funny, too. I found her on social media after she made a video looking for a job, because the studio she used to work at fired her without any warning.
I sat with my tea, watching her blast these people because they were racist and only used her when they had black clients come into the studio. My heart went out to her because I hated when people took advantage of us, and then to toss her onto her ass without even a warning was crazy to me.
“Whew, that class was hard.”
“Why?”
“Cause that fine ass basketball player that was in here with his ex-girlfriend… I kept bending in his direction on purpose.” She did a fake bend, and I started laughing.
New York Sonics’ Point guard, Kenzo Aarons, and his on and off again girlfriend were clients and came in for classes. While some of my high profile or celebrity clients would book private classes, Kenzo Aarons was humble.
He was considered the league’s J. Cole, because you could see him just bopping around the city like he wasn’t a celebrity with a five year, two hundred-million-dollar contract. Other than his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, you didn’t see much about him in the media, unless he was giving back, which he did a lot.
His ex-girlfriend tried to book a private session, and he called us back and said the shared session was fine with him. I always admired how he could stay so grounded, while having all the money and fame being tossed at him.
“You are a mess… keep it professional because his ex-girlfriend is always on her social media, trying to air someone out or drop receipts for who she thinks is messing with him.”
Synthia rolled her eyes. “She gets on his nerves, and you can tell by the way he stares at her. It’s like he’s trying to remember why he started fucking with her again.” She shook her head and turned to grab something from the shelves behind the counter.
As I was about to respond, the door chimed and Havoc walked in, taking up every inch of the door. His eyes wandered right past me and onto Synthia, who grabbed the spray bottles and clothes to sanitize the mats.
“What up, B?”
It wasn’t that hard to become close with Havoc and Yasin, because those two were the main ones that were outside my studio or following behind me. On the rare occasion that I was actually alone, one of them always seemed to find me.
“Hey Havoc… you and your brother in one day. What do I owe this very strange visit?” I asked, waving my hand up in his face.
Even with me waving my hand up, it only reached his neck. “What up, Syn?”
She turned around with the cleaning solution, completely caught off guard by his greeting. “Oh, hey Havoc… did you need to book another class for your sister?”
I looked at him strangely, and he ignored me while focusing on her. “Yea…yeah,” he replied, and looked at her.
“Perfect. I get off in a few minutes, but I can stay later to help you out… cool?”
“Yeah, I’ll be outside.”
“Okay… give me a few minutes.” She went into the studio space while I followed Havoc out the front door.
“Sister, Havoc? You don’t have no damn sister… have you been purchasing classes just to talk to her?”
He had this sheepish smirk on his face. “Needed a reason to talk to her.”
“Um, how about you start with… my name is Havoc, and I like you.”
“Not that easy, B.”
Yasin was across the street on the phone, while keeping an eye out. “Why not?”
“No woman wants a deaf nigga… bitches barely wanna cook, and you think they gonna wanna learn a whole different language to communicate with me when I don’t feel like wearing these?”
“The right woman will.” I assured him.
He looked past me into the studio as Synthia was dancing, as she often did when cleaning mats. We both would put on bounce music and knock out cleaning the studio in record time.
“We gonna see.”
“As much as I appreciate the extra business… stop buying classes. Just talk to her, she’s a cool person.”
“What you know about her? Aimee acting all quiet like she don’t know much.” Aimee had met her when she started coming around the studio more, trying to get me to rent her the apartment across the hall from me.
Syn was around my age, and she was so cool to hang around. It made having someone working in the studio that much easier. Especially because she cared about it like it was her own baby. Our clients adored her, and even Aimee had taken a liking to her, grabbing dinner with her from time to time.
Not to mention, Syn also lived a few blocks from the studio. She usually rode her electric bike to work and parked it in the break room.
Synthia was unique in every way. Her warm ivory skin was covered in tattoos, and she wore a ring on nearly every finger. Her straight black hair fell down her back and was usually down, or on the rare occasion, pulled up into a bun.
She had the cutest button nose that was littered with freckles, and a heart nose ring. It wasn’t Syn if her pouty pink lips weren’t lathered in coconut oil. When I asked her why she didn’t buy lip balm, she laughed and broke down all the chemicals that were in those products. So, you had to be prepared for her to pull out a small little oval container that was jam packed with coconut oil that she would use her finger to slide all over her lips.
On her knuckles, she had ‘men suck’ tattooed across them, which intrigued me when she came to the studio for the first time. Aside from her tattoos, she was very much a girly girl and loved the color lavender.
Even her electric bike was lavender, and every time she got a fresh set of nails, you could bet the color lavender was incorporated into whatever design that she got. Havoc’s height and body build would swallow her petite 5’4 frame.
We really bonded over the fact that she drank ensure shakes, too. She shared that she had always had trouble gaining weight since she was a child, so she drank two a day, along with having a high protein diet.
“I know that she is single, and she rides her bike home from here.”
“Oh, word… she ride bikes.” He got excited on something that they could possibly bond over.
“An electric bike, Havoc.” I laughed.
“Single?”
“Yes.”
He stroked his beard while looking into the studio at Syn doing the absolute most while mopping the floors. “Hmm.”
“Just go and speak to her… you may have a lot in common. You’re a great guy, Havoc.” I nudged him a bit, and he didn’t move at all. “She likes tattoos… don’t you co-own the tattoo shop with Meer and Quasim?”
“Yeah.”
“So, bring it up in conversation. Invite her to the shop… something, dammit. I cannot be telling you and your brother how to approach women.”
Havoc chuckled. “You sis now… ain’t got no choice.”
I shook my head and went back inside while Synthia was finishing up and continued to close out everything before going home for the day. As I was confirming clients for tomorrow’s classes, I saw Aimee and Capella pull up, bringing some boxes to move in.
Zay: When you have time, I wanna take you out.
I looked at his message and silenced my phone, choosing to ignore him and continue confirming clients for class. It wasn’t that I was angry with him, I was just annoyed that he was playing both sides. In reality, I didn’t know the truth because the media often lied, and I really couldn’t be mad, because I was doing the same.
Shit.
Relationships were so damn complicated.
Quasimmy: miss you, my love.
Me: miss you more.