Chapter 12
Drahma Town
One week later…
I can’t even lie… lately, I had been on some “fuck a nigga” shit.
And it wasn’t even on no childish, bitter type vibe either. It was just… I was tired.
I was tired of goin’ back and forth, tired of tryin’ to make somethin’ work that never seemed to just flow the way it was supposed to.
Me and Renza could have a good moment, a real good one, and then next thing I knew, we was right back sittin’ in tension like we didn’t just express how much we loved each other.
That shit got old after a while.
So, tonight, I wasn’t thinkin’ about him, and I didn’t wanna think about him. I was done sittin’ around waitin’ on a nigga to decide what I meant to him.
I had gotten up earlier, did my hair, and when I say I took my time, I took my good fuckin’ time.
I installed me a long blonde wig that fell all the way past my ass, and straight down my back like silk.
I made sure the lace was laid, my edges were sleek, and everything was lookin’ how it was supposed to.
My makeup was soft but still gave what it needed to give.
My lips were glossy, lashes sittin’ right and skin lookin’ too damn good under the lights.
Then I got dressed, pullin’ on some black leather shorts that was short as hell, ridin’ up just enough to show the curve under my ass cheeks while my legs was all out. I slid into my heels and stood for a second, lookin’ at how everything sat the way it was supposed to.
I looked at myself in the mirror and turned to the side, smirkin’ a little while I took it all in.
I looked too damn good to be sittin’ around stressin’ over a nigga who couldn’t get it together, and for once, I wasn’t about to let that shit ruin my night or my mood.
Tonight wasn’t about feelings or overthinkin’ what me and Renza had goin’ on.
Tonight was about me, how I felt, and doin’ whatever the hell I wanted without checkin’ in or second guessin’ it.
Mecca pulled up, and soon as I got in the car, she looked me up and down and let out a low whistle.
“Yeah… you outside tonight for real.”
I laughed and adjusted my hair. “I told you I wasn’t playin’.”
We hit our hookah lounge first, and soon as we walked in, the vibe was already right.
The lights sat low across the room, the music played smooth through the speakers, and people was talkin’ and laughin’ like they didn’t have a care in the world while hookah smoke drifted through the air and settled into everything around us.
A couple of our regulars spotted us and waved, and we made our rounds, speakin’ to everybody, checkin’ in and makin’ sure everything was straight like we always did.
I grabbed a hookah hose and took a slow pull, lettin’ the smoke sit before I blew it out, leanin’ back in my seat.
“This what I needed,” I said.
Mecca nodded. “You needed to get out that house and out your head.”
She wasn’t lyin’…
After a while, we left there and headed to the club.
When we stepped inside, it was a whole different energy from what we had just left.
The music hit harder with bass knockin’ through the floor while the lights flashed across the crowd.
People was packed in close, movin’ like everybody came out with the same idea.
We grabbed our drinks at the bar, and before I could even take a real sip, Mecca was already pullin’ on my hand, draggin’ me toward the dance floor with that look on her face like she wasn’t about to let me stand around all night.
I laughed and went with it, lettin’ myself fall right into the music with her, and from that point on, we wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but vibin’ and movin’ like we didn’t have a single thing to worry about.
Every song that came on, we knew it. Every beat, we caught it. I was bent over, throwin’ it back with my hair swingin’, and hands on my thighs while Mecca stood behind me, hypin’ me up and recordin’ everything.
“Turn around!” she yelled over the music.
And I did, droppin’ lower, givin’ the camera exactly what it needed, not even carin’ who was lookin’ or what they thought. Niggas was watchin’ with phones out, drinks paused mid-air, and I felt all that attention.
I ain’t even care who was watchin’ at this point.
The way the music was hittin’ and how my body was movin’, I just let myself fall into it, lettin’ all that attention sit on me without shyin’ away from it.
Mecca was laughin’ behind me, still recordin’, and I already knew that video was gon’ eat soon as it hit my page.
“Girl, post that!” she yelled.
“Bitch, I am,” I said, already reachin’ for my phone, my thumb movin’ quick while I uploaded it without even thinkin’ twice.
One after another, I kept postin’, switchin’ between videos and pictures, catchin’ every angle without even thinkin’ twice about it.
Everything was hittin’ how I wanted it to, from the way my body moved to how I looked on camera, and I wasn’t focused on nothin’ but enjoyin’ myself and stayin’ in this moment.
A nigga ended up slidin’ up on me not too long after, real smooth with it, and I let him talk. He bought me a drink, then another, and I didn’t shut him down.
At one point, he leaned in a little closer, sayin’ somethin’ in my ear that made me laugh, and I felt myself relaxin’ into it more than I expected.
When he asked for my number, I didn’t even hesitate.
I pulled my phone out and gave it to him like it was nothin’, like I hadn’t just spent all this time goin’ back and forth with myself about Renza.
In that moment, it felt easy, and I wasn’t about to sit here overthinkin’ it or second guessin’ why I was doin’ it.
At this point, I wasn’t thinkin’ about loyalty or history or none of that.
I was thinkin’ about the fact that I deserved to feel wanted without confusion attached to it.
More time passed, and I kept postin’. Every now and then, I’d click through my viewers, and every single time I saw Renza name sittin’ there.
I kept clickin’ through my views, and every time his name popped up, I rolled my eyes a little, but that half smile still came anyway because I already knew what he was doin’.
He was sittin’ there watchin’ everything I posted; every video, every picture, and takin’ it all in like he hadn’t been the one actin’ confused about me this whole time. I’m not even gon’ lie… I liked that he had to sit there and see me like this without sayin’ a word about it.
By the time I was at the bar again, talkin’ to the same dude, laughin’ at somethin’ he said, I felt good. He had been buyin’ me drinks all night, so when the bartender came back, I leaned forward.
“Put his next one on me,” I said.
He looked at me, surprised. “You ain’t gotta do that.”
“I know,” I replied. “I want to.”
He smiled, noddin’ slow. “I like that about you so far.”
I shrugged a little. “I’m fair.”
We kept talkin’, and I felt his body lean a little closer, his voice droppin’ like he was gettin’ more comfortable, but then somethin’ about the space around me changed in a way that didn’t match the music or the crowd.
It was subtle, but I felt it anyway, like somebody had stepped too close behind me and didn’t care about personal space the way everybody else in the club did.
At first, I tried not to think too deep into it because it was packed and people was movin’ around nonstop, but that feelin’ didn’t go nowhere.
It stayed right on me, heavy enough to make me pause mid-conversation, and I knew before I even turned around that whoever was behind me wasn’t just another random body in the crowd.
Soon as I turned around and saw Renza standin’ there, everything else around me faded into the background, and the look in his eyes caught me off guard in a way I wasn’t ready for.
It wasn’t the same energy he usually gave me.
It wasn’t that smooth, easy way he moved when he was tryin’ to calm me down or pull me back in.
His eyes were dark, pissed, and locked in on me like he had been standin’ here watchin’ for a minute, takin’ in everything I was doin’ before I even realized he was behind me.
Before I could even open my mouth, he snatched my clutch off the bar and reached for my arm.
I jerked back instantly. “Nigga, hold up! Don’t be fuckin’ grabbin’ on me like that, Renza!”
He stepped closer anyway with his jaw tight, and eyes runnin’ over me from head to toe.
“You in here dressed like this,” he said, his voice sharp. “Shakin’ yo’ ass and postin’ that shit everywhere like you ain’t got no fuckin’ sense.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me! What the fuck wrong with you?”
“If you would stay the fuck off my page, you wouldn’t know what the fuck I got goin’ on,” I shot back, my voice louder now.
The dude beside me stepped in, hand comin’ up. “Aye, chill—”
Renza didn’t even acknowledge him. He already had his hand locked around his throat, liftin’ him just enough to take control of the space before he started beatin’ his ass.
His punches was heavy, landin’ clean like he knew exactly what he was doin’, and it only took a few hits before the dude’s body gave out and dropped. But Renza didn’t let it end there.
He followed him down, still on him and swingin’, his knuckles connectin’ over and over to his face. It got real quiet around us real fast once people realized Renza wasn’t just fightin’. He was tryin’ to hurt this man for real.
My heart was poundin’, people scatterin’, drinks spillin’, music still playin’ like none of this was happenin’, and I just stood there watchin’ in disbelief.
Renza finally grabbed the man by his shirt and dragged him closer, droppin’ him right in front of me. His face was already swollen with one side puffed up bad. Blood ran from his nose and smeared across his mouth. His body just lay there loose like he was completely out of it.