13. Autumn #3
On the way back to the house, Wyn tells us she has a private studio session booked, so we decide to make it a family affair.
I shower the day off of me, and put on a forest green rugby shirt with a birch tree on the breast, some black leggings and my pine green 4s.
I pull the front half of my twist-out into a ponytail, throw on a strip lash and gloss up my lips.
With all my gold rings and 4 nose ring, I look more like Haze than I’ve looked in a long time.
Turk knows the deal, too, since he put on his gray BB sweatsuit with his black forces, with the gold green face Rolex.
Smelling like his signature cocoa butter, looking every bit of Big Turk.
We take some pictures throwing up our sign like we’re seventeen again, him palming my ass, me climbing on his back.
“Y’all being messy as fuck,” Wynter cackles when we meet up in the kitchen. She’s making a frozen margarita, but I drop my remark when she cuts her eyes to me.
“I know Ty sent you some BB shit. We could all match,” Turk smirks, flashing his gold slugs.
It’s nothing like a dark skinned man with locs and golds.
“You also know I’m the Get Money Ice Princess. Gotta wear that blue, Turkey.”
Turk waves her off. “Exactly why you ain’t shit.”
Wyn pours her margarita in a to-go tumbler and flips him off. “I’ll be glad when you admit you love me like a sister. I never told Auty you wanted me first.”
“Ha ha, bitch. You ready?” I was used to their banter but she knows that shit bothers me.
“I stay ready.” Wynter twirls and like I thought, she’s dressed for Live.
She has on a half-cami with Ice Princess printed in royal blue across her chest, showing off her newly completed tattoo sleeves.
Titties sitting up unnaturally courtesy of Set pre-Brina.
Black low-cut scrunched pleather flared pants, showing her flat tummy.
Coke white forces. Platinum blonde wig falling pin straight, no baby hairs, giving scalp.
Freckles expertly hidden with a natural beat.
Wynter Snow is a bad bitch if nothing else.
“Take our picture, Turkey.”
I stand next to my twin and do a double take at her newest tatt. Scooby and Scrappy Doo, with Deucey Doo written in script under them.
“Deucey loves it, too,” she winks. “I can’t wait until Pay drops my other nephew or niece so I can complete this arm.”
“What if you have kids?”
“Um, kid, and they will get my shoulder. C’mon Auty.”
Turk is patient flicking us up dozens of times. While he drives us to the studio, we pick the ones we like and post them. I take her ski mask and slip it on, and take a selfie throwing up the Birch and post that on my story, tagging the guys.
They all repost me. Rico takes it a step further, posting a throwback of me and him from ten years ago, letting his followers know Haze been ‘bout it.
True to Wyn’s word, we got the studio to ourselves, and she wastes no time getting on Live as the house engineer starts setting up.
Nipsey’s playing in the background. Turk’s talking to the engineer, always eager to learn something. I’m sending different pictures to Rico and reminiscing on Fredo.
“Y’all… That’s my real twin,” Wynter says before taking a gulp of her margarita.
“Like, same womb. We just fraternal… I’m six minutes older though.
I’m in the stu tonight with my twin and her man.
Ohmigod, her and her nigga been locked in since we was like eight y’all.
That’s my bro fasho… Autyyyyy come here say hi to my fans. ”
I roll my eyes and slide closer to Wyn. I pluck the tumbler out her hand and gulp the rest. “Hey y’all,” I wave. “I’m Haze.” I lean in to read the comment and laugh. “Nah, I can’t rap. My sister got all the talent, I’m just here to cheer her on.”
Wyn wraps her arm around my neck and kisses my temple. “My best friend… my only friend.”
I lean in and cackle at Rico’s comment.
@RicoSauve: Haze is my bf. She dont fwu
Wyn scoffs and flips off the camera. “Richard, fuck off my live.”
The engineer gives her the thumbs up so she gets up and goes into the booth. I slide into the middle of her phone.
“Aight y’all. It’s my time. Wynter Snow finna light the booth up.” I grab the phone and turn it around so they can see Wyn. It’s like fourteen thousand people in the Live now, and the comments are going crazy.
She waves before putting her signature sunglasses and headphones on.
Turk slides next to me as I flip the camera around. He pulls me into his lap and hugs me from the back before kissing my shoulder and throwing up the Birch.
Set requests to connect to the Live, so I add him and this nigga blows smoke into the camera before cheesing, showing his dimples.
“Hazey Haze. Love the shirt.”
“Oh, I’ma always rep,” I smirk.
“Waddup nigga, what you on?”
“Not shit.” I know Set and Turk are doing their weird communicating thing they do. They might as well be twins the way they’re always in sync. Turk hugs me tighter before opening his weed pouch to start breaking down some weed.
I take over like I always do, especially since he likes when I roll his papers.
“A good fucking look, Dub,” Set’s raspy voice says just as Wyn starts rapping over the mid-tempo beat.
I zone out as Turk and Set begin answering comments on the Live, mostly Rico and Shad’s crazy asses. After I roll two joints, I light one and pass it to Turk before I focus back the phone.