Chapter 17
You’re a fucking fool,” Stassi scolded herself as she stared at the YouTube video in disbelief. “A stupid-ass, goddamn, do shit you know you shouldn’t, trust niggas when you know you shouldn’t, fool.”
The Press had asked Day about her, and his response had been so offensive that she didn’t even have words.
All she could feel was shame, rage, and stupidy.
Stassi had never felt so played. She had known how he would look at her if she accepted that money.
She couldn’t even say she blamed him. She had let him convince her to transact sex for cash.
She was a prostitute that just hadn’t been labeled yet.
She knew it, and now the entire world knew it too.
She couldn’t believe she had been so na?ve.
To allow a man like Day to access and manipulate her feelings was the rashest decision she had made in a long time.
“He’s a rapper. What did you expect?” She scolded herself.
Her social media was blowing up. Nosy fans who worshipped Day and messy bitches who followed the blogs all wanted a peek at his new paid fling.
Her eyes watered as she scrolled through her DM’s.
It was like she was on the auction block.
Other industry men were in her messages, shooting their shot and in every single one was a dollar amount.
She shook her head, forcing herself to click out the app.
She just couldn’t take anymore. Social media was a rabbit hole of drama.
This wasn’t the way she wanted to grow her brand.
None of the people clicking ‘FOLLOW’ were interested in Stassi, the businesswoman.
None of them were potential customers. They were following gossip, and the part that bothered her most was that the story was true.
She would never be able to rebuild her business now.
No one would ever take her seriously if this weren’t rectified.
Roman called her non-stop since the interview aired, but she refused to answer. Even in a dire circumstance, Day had his handlers reaching out. It was so impersonal. It was lightweight disrespectful, and she was over it all.
Lauren felt like it was her against an entire Internet world of trolls.
She had been called everything under the sun from a ‘HO’ to a ‘TRIFLING-ASS BITCH USING HER PUSSY AS A LADDER TO CLIMB OUT THE GHETTO.’ Everyone thought she was chasing clout.
Her comment section was in shambles and every major Black blog had run with the story.
This had to be a new low for her. Instead of people judging Day for paying to play, they were judging her.
Not one comment was negatively aimed at Day.
The comments about him were celebratory.
“SHE BAD, I’D PAY TO PLAY TOO.”
“RAPPERS PAY FOR ELITE WOMEN BECAUSE THEY DON’T TALK. YOU SEE OLE GIRL HAVEN’T COMMENTED. SHE DOING HER JOB.”
“SPEND HELLA brEAD ON BAD BITCHES = A RICH NIGGA SPORT.”
It was all so out of control.
When Charlie’s name came up on her phone, Stassi was overwhelmed to tears.
She had been too embarrassed to disclose everything she had been doing with Day fully.
The sisters hadn’t caught up at all, and Stassi had an immediate need for Charlie’s presence.
Even if Charlie came with no advice, if she offered no solutions, she just needed the bond right now.
“Charlie, I messed up so bad,” Stassi cried as soon as she answered.
“I’m on my way,” Charlie said. It was that level of loyalty, the dropping of everything to cater to her needs, the no questions asked, the immediate recognition of hurt that Stassi needed.
Women needed other women. It was just the way of the world.
Through their ups and downs, disagreements, and petty fights, Charlie and Stassi were unbreakable.
When you were loved by the right types of women, the bond could withstand anything because it was necessary for survival.
They had realized long ago that they needed one another more than they needed any man that would come into their lives.
Women made the mistake of giving up their girl tribes when they fell in love, but Stassi knew that it was Charlie who would be there through whatever.
When niggas switched up, Charlie would remain.
Her calling at the exact moment she was needed proved so.
When Charlie arrived, Stassi was almost skeptical about opening the door. She looked pathetic, crying over a man that wasn’t hers over some shit she had agreed to.
“Oh, Stass,” Charlie said with a sigh as soon as she saw her face.
Stassi shook her head in disbelief.
“It’s everywhere. My business is literally everywhere.”
“Our business, sis,” Charlie corrected. “Hoes talking about me all over the place too. Hoes gonna talk and we gonna drink,” Charlie paused, realizing their sister time would need to look a little different now that she was pregnant.
“Well, you’re going to drink because I’ve decided to keep this baby. ”
Stassi looked at her in stun and amazement. “Oh my God, Charlie, really?” Stassi might have hated Demi, but the idea of becoming an aunt endeared Stassi to this miracle. Charlie nodded, smiling.
“Yeah, and its crazy because I went from not wanting a baby at all to a full blown obsession with having it,” Charlie chuckled. “I love him. This is the start of our family, you know?”
“I’m so happy for you,” Stassi said sincerely.
“But don’t think I’m a bad wingman. I’ma eat my face off and you’re going to drink for us both until we don’t give a fuck about what these hoes out here saying.
I’ll make your drink while you tell me how you got pulled into all this with Day, and tell me how much he paid you, cuz for the right price I don’t know a bitch alive who won’t do something strange for a piece of change. ”
The laughter that erupted between them was needed. It was refreshing, and Stassi hit a little twerk, touching her knees as she stuck out her tongue. This no judgment zone was safe. Thank God for sisters.
“He paid me a quarter million Charlie,” Stassi said.
“Wait, bitch what?” Charlie exclaimed.
“I gave it back though!” Stassi defended.
“Wait, girl what?! What the fuck you do that for? Now you just regretful and broke!”
Charlie headed to the kitchen. “I’ma need a drink for this conversation I see. What you got up in here?”
The second knock at her door came as a surprise.
“You expecting somebody?” Charlie asked.
“No,” Stassi answered, frowning as she approached her door.
She looked through the peephole. Day stood outside, hands in the pockets of his denim, as he waited for her to open.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Charlie asked.
“Open the door, Anastassia.”
“Anastassia?” Charlie asked, astonished. “Oh, bitch! I see how you got caught up.”
Stassi pulled open the door.
“This is done,” Stassi said.
The regret in him could be seen. He knew he had fucked up. She didn’t care. She wasn’t with this being courted in private to be played in public bullshit he was into.
“Can I come in?” He asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Stassi—”
“I’m the help, Day. Boss niggas don’t explain shit to the help. We’re good. Ain’t nothing else to say,” Stassi responded. She was too prideful to give in even though she desperately needed to know why.
“They caught me off guard, Stassi. I’m a rapper whose brand is built off being an available man,” he said.
“You are available. You’re wide fucking open because I’m not taking up no more of your time. You don’t ever have to worry about that,” she said.
She hated that her voice was shaking, but she couldn’t mask her hurt feelings.
Foolishly, she had caught feelings. She wouldn’t say it was full-blown love, but their chemistry and vibe had been on point.
The way he had holed up with her in that hotel room had felt like the beginning of something.
She realized she had done what so many women before her had done — assumed something he had never said.
“I didn’t expect to have my love life under a microscope. I misspoke. I knew it came out fucked up as soon as I said it,” Day said.
“You called me the help.” She scoffed. “I knew if I took that money that you would see me that way. I knew it. I knew that I would see myself that way.”
“You didn’t take the money. You sent it back. That’s what made this different for me,” Day said, voice elevating before catching himself and glancing down the hall. The door behind him opened, and her neighbor peeked out.
“Sorry for the noise. My guest was just leaving,” Stassi said, holding firm. “He has no more business here. That’s what it was. A business deal. Now it’s over.”
Her eyes burned, but she held her resolve.
Niggas was always doing fucked up shit and calling it a mistake when really they were making choices.
Men like Day made choices every day that made women feel small, feel like objects, feel stupid because they were selfish, and they didn’t think about the consequences, nor did they fear them because rarely did women enforce boundaries.
“I can see you’re emotional. I ain’t tryna hurt your feelings, Stassi.
It was business, but that vibe I caught, it was…
” He paused as he searched for the right thing to say.
“I don’t know exactly what it is. We ain’t had time to figure that part out, but I ain’t really tryna have it end here like this either. Are you?”
“Can’t end something that never starts.” Stassi brushed away a tear. “Remember all those good feelings that you said we would have? Remember how I told you I didn’t want to feel anything at all? This is why. I knew we would end up here.”