Chapter 3 #2
One item after another was passed from the window into the car. I wasted very little time puncturing the large Kool-Aid with a straw. It quenched my thirst and lit my taste buds ablaze.
“Mmm,” I moaned lowly.
As Flocco pulled into traffic, I took the time to separate our food. My home was less than a mile away. And the way I planned to damage the makeshift combo would be for my eyes only.
“You need anything else before I–”
“My bed. My shower. My solitude.”
“Bet. Bet.”
I was making it abundantly clear that I wasn’t accepting company at the time. There was nothing more that I wanted than to be alone.
He pulled alongside the curb of my home after four turns. Though I loved my girl, I was relieved to see she’d made it home already. I didn’t have the capacity to deal with anyone tonight. Not even myself. Sleep was on my to-do list.
Scrub my hands
Sit down at my dining table
Eat my food
Clean up after myself
Grab a wine cooler
Put my Kool-Aid in the fridge
Take a long shower with boiling hot water to cleanse the filth from my body
Put on the pajama set I stole from Kristin’s Boutique
Get in bed
Rub my feet together until I pass out
An anchor kept me grounded after Flocco opened the car door for me.
“You gone get out or you coming home with me?” He chuckled.
His smile was contagious.
“I’m not going home with you, sir.”
“Can a nigga at least have your number?” He asked as I stepped out and headed toward my door.
He was right behind me. I ignored his question until we reached my porch.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight?” He tittered.
“Um hm.”
“Bet. I’ll see ya mean ass tomorrow, then. Dinner. Nine o’clock. I’ll be at this bitch with bells on.”
Laughing, I tossed my head back and unlocked my front door. He pushed it open. I stepped inside and turned to face him.
“Thank you.”
The words tumbled from my heart, not my head.
“My pleasure.”
“Goodnight, Laurence,” I sighed.
“Goodnight, Hyph.”
Passion was insane. It was week two of their grand opening, and one would believe the club had been open for a decade or more. Aside from the attention that was paid to every detail, the crowd was live with unforgettable energy.
“Okay, bitch. I’m next on the roster. You think I’m losing my mind or you think this’ll work out?”
“It’ll all work out,” I promised Saga, holding up the folded knot of ones in my hand. “We have a plan, remember.”
The money Flocco had given me would be put to great use.
Saga was new on the scene. It was her first night as Siren, the midnight ballerina.
Though we were both confident in her ability to turn pockets inside out, we wanted to be sure the men understood the caliber of woman on the stage and the kind of woman she had in her corner.
So, a hit to their ego was the solution.
Because so many men were either intimidated or jealous of women, the idea of being shown up by one was maddening.
Once Saga hit the stage, I would let the dollars fly, attracting the attention of every male in the new spot.
As a result, they’d join me, determined not to allow me to toss more ones or show more love to the chocolate-coated vixen.
When the night was over, Saga would return the money I’d thrown and prepare to be showered with it again the next night. Until she developed a loyal clientele and comfort on the stage, I’d recycle the same knot.
My friend had quit her job because it wasn’t providing for her household.
I’d be damned if I allowed unemployment to be the end of her independence.
She was talented. She moved her body with so much seduction and grace that I, too, was mesmerized when she danced.
Applying to Passion felt natural. It was the main reason she decided to apply the week of their grand opening.
It was only the second week, and she was already prepared to get on stage.
“Yes,” Saga replied.
“You nervous?”
“Who?” Saga scoffed. “Baby, I was born ready.”
“That’s my girl!”
“Siren to the stage. Siren to the stage.”
“I better come out of here with at least a band tonight or I’m flipping all of this shit over,” she chuckled, still sipping from her drink.
It had loosened her up and calmed her nerves.
“Siren to the stage. Siren to the stage. Siren up next.”
“How do I look? Skin still glowing?”
I nodded.
“You look incredible, babe. They’re calling your name.”
Her enhanced brows crinkled.
“Me?”
Chuckling, I nodded again.
“Yes, you. Siren to the stage.”
“Oh shit. That is me,” she shrieked. “Here.”
She handed me her half-full drink. It was her third one.
She was on another level. I loved it. And I loved her.
From a distance, I admired Saga as she headed backstage.
Her persistence was inspiring. So was her resilience.
Julian had become her reason, and it had changed every fiber in her being.
Motherhood looked good on my friend. I just hoped she understood how much she’d grown because of it and how proud her loved ones were of her for it.
“Siren coming to the stage. Siren coming to the stage. Get your dollars out and pay close attention. This motherfucker is FINE. 90’s fine.”
As the DJ quieted down, 90’s Baby by JT surrounded the club.
Siren emerged from the dark.
“You wanna fuck cause I’m a freak, right? It squeeze tight. A mean bite.”
Her hands were on the pole as her ass cheeks clapped for the audience watching.
“Ahhhhh!” I squealed, moving closer to the stage.
That’s my bitch!
I began tossing money slowly. A few dollars. A few more dollars.
“Got that snapper that them G’s like. No scandal, I’m a lot to handle.”
Saga lowered her body to the floor and slid backward on her knees. Up close, I watched her move like a magician. One ass cheek bouncing after the other. Her round breasts were in her hand, her chin was to her chest, and her tongue was almost close enough to her nipple to taste it.
I shoved dollars in her g-string. Behind me, ones began raining down onto the stage. With incentive, she spread her legs into a split. It didn’t hinder her movements. It enhanced them. My eyes bulged as she lifted her body up and down, riding the floor as if it were Sully’s dick.
I let the money fly. So did the group of men now surrounding the stage, each trying to top the other.
Bingo.
Big tippers were the goal tonight. Loyal clientele was the ultimate goal.
Saga got on all four and crawled toward the pole where she rested the back of her neck and lifted the rest of her body. The pole sank between her ass cheeks. Still, they moved like water in the open sea.
“Goddamn, baby girl.”
“Shit.”
The music paused, signaling a disruption. Baffled, my eyes darted toward the DJ booth.
“Miss Hyphen. Miss Hyphen Stone. We don’t want no problems up in this bitch. Your nigga said bring your ass to the door. Hyphen to the doe. Hyphen to the doe.”
I tore my eyes away from the DJ and focused on Saga as the music began to play again. She was close. So close I could feel her breath on the side of my face. I looked up at her. She tipped her head toward the entrance with a smile.
“Yo nigga at the doe. Yo nigga at the doe,” she chanted, much like the DJ did whenever her grandmother had to peel us out of the grownup parties though we were only teenagers.
She never missed a step. Neither did I. My attention didn’t waver, not even when I remembered I’d agreed to have dinner with Flocco at nine o’clock. It was past midnight. That ship had sailed.
I was almost certain he was at my home at nine sharp.
Unfortunately, I was not home. I was at Saga’s grandmother’s house as we waited for the final touches Grandma Anne promised to have done in time for Saga’s first night on stage.
Though she’d rather her granddaughter choose another profession, she was supportive.
She knew Saga’s heart and that was all that mattered to her. Grandma Anne stitched Saga’s first 2-piece and garter belt with plans to create every look Saga wore during her time as a midnight ballerina.
JT was no longer over the speakers. DJ Khaled and Drake replaced the slow, seductive song.
My girl stood to her feet and began bouncing.
She was hype now. Just as much as I adore the seductive edge 90’s baby brought out of her, I knew For Free would spark that energy we loved so much from my best friend.
I folded my bottom lip in and tossed ones onto the stage. Saga put some distance between us to climb the pole. During my incarceration, she’d installed one just like it in her home. And, for a full week, she practiced climbing it.
“I go on and on. Can’t understand how I last so long.”
Her persistence proved to be beneficial as she climbed the pole effortlessly.
When her core was completely stabilized, she flipped upside down.
Her freshly installed 30” wig allowed gravity to have its way.
Saga’s legs were directly in the air. She slammed her heels together, making a tidal wave that ended at her ass.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking ‘bout!” A tipper to my right yelled. “Work that motherfucking pole.”
I couldn’t help myself. My money was running low, but the night was far from over. Saga would leave the main stage and head to the second stage for a closer encounter with those who loved her artistry. My bills wouldn’t survive.
“I don’t mind dragging you out this bitch by your bang, Hyph. But I’m trying to be a gentleman. I’m trying out this nice guy shit but you taking my kindness for fuck boy behavior.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood. My nipple hardened against my one-piece. My toes pressed against the sole of my shoes. I clenched my pussy, smashing my walls against each other. Still, I remained forward.
Flocco’s hand snaked around my waist. Forcefully, he pulled my body close to his. I could feel the evidence of his manhood. I closed my eyes as I softened against him.
“Fl–”
“Either you’re grabbing a hold of me and we’re leaving this motherfucker hand-in-hand or I’ll be patching the front of your shit up with glue and tracks in the morning.”