Chapter 25 #3
He gazed at me for a few seconds, sizing me up.
Then he rolled his eyes. “Come on, Nikki. I don’t know what the hell she said.
We was partying and a lot of stuff was said.
But, like I told you, what’s a no to a G?
If I want to hit, I’m going to hit. And if a female”—he emphasized the word—“goes up to my suite, she can’t act confused about what that means and then cry rape.
” Bishopp shrugged, unaware that he’d just incriminated himself and indicted the entire music industry.
His answer was like a gut punch. Memories of having reluctant sex with Alonzo in his Range Rover outside the Krispy Kreme streaked across my mind like a runaway firecracker.
Bishopp’s accuser’s no was nothing to him; and my no had been nothing to Alonzo.
Until that moment, I had chalked the incident up to just another time when Alonzo expected me to get off on his sexual dominance.
But after I left Bishopp frustrated in the lobby and made it home that night, I stared at my shadowy bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep as I kept turning over in my mind whether I had also been raped.
It was risky calling my girls in the wee hours of the morning, especially when they were still upset with me, but this couldn’t wait.
I tried both Denyse and Teresa and left a version of the same message when I got their answering machine: “I know you love me, and I also know that you’re worried about me.
I’m so sorry for taking you for granted, for being stubborn when you were just trying to help, and for not prioritizing our sisterhood.
Thank you for being my support system through all the mistakes I’ve made, and I ask that you please don’t lose patience because I’ll definitely be making more.
I hope you can give me a little grace this time because I really have been under some crushing pressure.
I promise to make it up to you. I love you. ”
Only Sofie, who was probably just getting in from closing her café, picked up. Understandably, her first words were, “Why are you calling me at this hour, Nikki? You are buggin’ out!”
“Sof, I know you love me and that you were worried—” I only got a few words into my prepared spiel before Sofie groaned loud enough to shut me up.
“You have got to be kidding me.” She let loose. “Are you seriously calling me at three AM to peacock back our last conversation?”
“I think you mean ‘parrot,’” I interjected.
Normally, Sofie appreciated when we corrected her rare language slip-ups, but at this moment, she couldn’t have cared less. I could practically hear her death stare through the phone. “Whatever, Nikki. This is hella weird and I don’t think I want to have this conversation now.”
“Please, Sofie, I’m feeling pretty bad right now.
Can I just talk to you for a minute?” I took her silence as reluctant consent.
“I know I fucked up. You and WhiteHot have every right to be mad at me. I’ve never felt less like I know what I’m doing in my life.
You guys bore the brunt of my bad judgment, and I regret it. ”
I hoped she didn’t hear my voice tremble, but Sofie’s normal kindheartedness crept into her tone. “What is going on?” she asked gently. “All of this is so unlike you.”
“I told you about the six-month steeplechase I’m running at Sugar.
That’s been weighing on me.” I paused. Sofie and I had the least one-on-on time of all my closest friends, but I was grateful that she was the one who had picked up the phone because I thought she might understand.
“And everything that went down with Alonzo back in the day is coming up now, almost worse than before.”
“That makes sense, Nik. You’re in his domain now.
And hip hop culture can be merciless. It’s one thing to be a consumer and something else entirely to fully exist in it, when it’s your livelihood and your social circle,” Sofie replied.
“Part of the reason I opened my café was because I felt like I was losing myself in WhiteHot’s world.
I needed something that I could control, that was only mine. ”
“I’m scared I’m losing myself too.” I took a long drink of water to buy myself time before I spoke again. “Actually, I’m scared I lost myself a while ago and am only now realizing it.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I’m just seeing everything with new eyes,” I choked out. “I know I was abused, and I think I may have been raped.”
Sofie drew in a quick breath. “Oh my god, when? Was it Alonzo?”
“Yes, the last time we had sex, I … didn’t want to.” Tears were now streaming down my face, but my voice was oddly steady. “But we’d done it so many times where he was ordering me around and telling me that I was his ‘good bitch’ that I chalked it up to a rough session.”
“All this time, I can’t believe I didn’t know you were hurting like that. Did you tell anyone?” Sofie asked gently.
“I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t know either.
At least not for sure, not to the point where I was ready to admit it to myself …
For some reason, it feels clearer now, maybe because I am in his domain, and I can see the monster that he is.
I can also see that he’s not the only one.
And people seem okay with these guys. Or at least they find excuses for them, like blaming the culture.
” Although my words were now coming out in a shaky stream of consciousness, I couldn’t stop talking.
“But looking back, I remember saying ‘no.’ I know I said ‘no’…”
Sofie must have heard my voice finally break because she said simply, “I’m on my way over, schatje.”
Although she showed up at my door with ice cream and wine, the only thing I really wanted was her hug.
After we spent some time chitchatting about everything other than why my face was puffy and my eyes were red, Sofie draped an arm over my shoulder.
“Look, I know how hard it is to feel comfortable in a totally new scene. Modeling took me around Europe, but it didn’t prepare me for the culture shock of New York City and the music industry. ”
I regarded her with new respect as I processed how successful a shape-shifter Sofie was.
She had acclimated to multiple countries’ cultures, then somehow managed to become a fixture in urban entertainment and downtown nightlife, all by her early thirties.
I felt a little lame for feeling like a fish out of water in a culture that I’d grown up with in the city where I was born and raised.
“But you never ever have to accept men treating you like shit. And there is no ‘cultural’ justification for rape.” Sofie spun me around so that I faced her. “And even though you did let me down, I forgive you, and I will always be here for you.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Her compassion allowed me to see that I’d never forgiven myself for everything that had happened with Alonzo—and that I’d been blaming myself for the last time he took me in his Range Rover. No more, I resolved. That shit was over.