13. Kase Madoxx
Kase Madoxx
K nights was packed, lit, and loud, just how I liked it.
But for some reason, I wasn’t feelin’ it the same tonight.
Usually, I’d be in my section posted up with two bad bitches and a bottle in hand, lettin’ the bass vibrate through my bones.
But tonight? I was at the damn bar organizing drink garnishes by color.
I had a whole system. Lemon to the left, lime center, cherries in a chilled bowl. Who the hell was I?
“Yo, Kase, you straight?” my bartender Red asked, squintin’ at me. “You been... cleanin’.”
I looked down at the sanitized rag in my hand and the clipboard tucked under my arm. “I’m maintainin’ a high-quality customer experience, Red. That’s leadership.”
Leadership?
My eyes flew open,and I shook my head. I was trippin’.
I needed to sit down. All I did was hand my bartender the rag and take a deep breath, ’cause my Black ass was tripping.
As I was walking, the women were giving me the eye, with their titties out, and all I kept saying to myself was they need to cover up their boobs and really have a conversation with my ass instead of wanting my attention for my money.
When the DJ switched tracks, some space-themed shit,and I swear my dumbass brain whispered, Did you know the Andromeda galaxy is on a collision course with the Milky Way in four billion years?
What the fuck?
“Yo!” I snapped at myself under my breath, tugging at my chain like it could reset my vibe. “Stop thinkin’ about galaxies and go post up like a real one,” I muttered.
Shit, I was goin’ crazy and talkin’ to myself.
I decided to go to my office to head out before my customers thought I’d lost it.
The door shut behind me, and instead of pouring my favorite shot, I opened the mini refrigerator and pulled out ghost milk.
I didn’t know why I had the urge to drink the shit.
I simply took it to the head like it was my favorite.
Then I plopped down at my desk and, instead of watching the video cameras, I pulled a Rubik’s Cube from my drawer.
I sat back in my chair, feet kicked up, Rubik’s Cube in hand like I was born to rotate this shit.
I twisted it once, twice, then flipped the red side perfectly in place.
My brain was movin’ like it had Wi-Fi now.
I wasn't even thinkin', just… solvin’. Colors clickin’ together like I was made for this.
“Red to orange… blue to—damn, that’s symmetry,” I muttered, real low. Then I caught myself smilin’. Smilin’. At a damn toy cube.
What the hell is wrong with me?
The door cracked open and Red peeked in, holdin’ a towel and lookin’ concerned. “Yo, you good? You in here playin’ Tetris with that lil’ cube?”
“It’s called a Rubik’s Cube,” I said without lookin’ up, fingers still movin’. “A classic exercise in spatial intelligence and pattern recognition.”
Red scowled. “Nigga what?”
I paused, looked up like I just got caught watchin’ anime with subtitles. “I mean… it helps keep my hands busy.”
He squinted at me. “You just say ‘spatial intelligence’ like we was at a PopTech?”
I sat up quick, tossin’ the cube on the desk like it was a hot potato. “I said it keeps my hands busy, Red! Mind yo’ business.”
Red started laughin’. “Man, you been actin’ mad weird lately. Next thing I know, you gon’ be wearin’ them knitted cardigans and watchin’ documentaries on your lunch break.”
I pointed at him. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being informed.”
“Oh my god, it’s happenin’,” he said, throwin’ his hands up. “You turnin’ into one of them dudes who drink hot tea and talk about chakras.”
“I own nightclubs, Red.”
He nodded, grinnin’. “Exactly. So why the hell you sippin’ ghost milk and rubbin’ on colors like you tryna summon a Care Bear?”
I sighed and leaned back again, hand to my forehead.“I don’t even know, bruh. My brain has been on some nerd shit. I almost cried watchin’ a butterfly yesterday.”
Red damn near dropped his rag.
“I’m serious!” I said. “It landed on my windshield, bro. Wings all blue and poetic.
I started thinkin’ ‘bout growth and transformation and?—”
“Yo, get outta here,” he said, backin’ out the room like I was contagious. “If you start quotin’ poetry, I’m callin’ your mama.”
I smirked, lowkey relieved he left before I told him I wrote a haiku about the stars last night.
I picked the cube back up and whispered, “Just one more side…”
Once he left, Porcha strolled in and smiled. She had been working for me longer than anybody, so when she sat on the edge of my desk lookin’ me straight in the eyes, I already knew she had somethin’ in her line.
“What?” I asked, leanin’ back.
“Boss man,” she said, all calm but real serious. “I need you to hear me out . Do I need to check you in with a doctor?”
My brows pulled together. “No. Why? What’s up?”
She crossed one leg over the other and gave me that look. The one that meant she’d been peepin’ everything.
“You been actin’ strange. Like… readin’ signs, organizin’ fruit, wearin’ your glasses on purpose, and—” she reached over and picked up the Rubik’s Cube “—you fixin’ this damn thing in three minutes flat.”
I shrugged. “So? That just mean I’m focused.”
Porcha narrowed her eyes. “Nah, that mean somethin’ is goin’ on. You been different ever since that girl started coming around .”
I sat up straighter, jaw tight. “That ain’t got nothin’ to do with her.”
She smirked. “You sure? ‘Cause the old Kase ain’t never sipped no ghost milk while talkin’ about star patterns.”
I rubbed my temples, frustrated and confused. “I don’t know what’s happenin’ to me, Porcha. I just know... every time I see her, my brain turns into a Google Scholar.”
Porcha stood up, fixed my collar, and said soft but firm, “No. It’s not bad. But you don’t have to change yourself because you like her. And she doesn’t have to do that either.”
I looked down at the cube in my hand, colors all lined up like my whole damn personality just got reorganized.
“She got you movin’ different,” Porcha added, headin’ for the door. “But maybe that ain’t a bad thing.”
I sat there for a minute after she left, starin’ at the damn Rubik’s Cube like it told on me.
“Nah,” I muttered, shovin’ it back in the drawer like it had cursed me. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong. I’m still me. Just… stress. Club stress.”
I stood up quick, adjustin’ my chain like it grounded me or somethin’. Walked over to the mirror, mean-mugged my reflection.
“Still that nigga,” I told myself. “Ain’t no girl gon’ turn me into no science fair project.”
But as I turned to leave, I paused, ’cause I noticed somethin’ stickin’ out my back pocket.
A folded-ass pamphlet and planetarium hours.
“Oh hell nah.”
I snatched it out and crumpled it up fast, heart poundin’ like I just got caught watchin’ a rom-com.
“This ain't nothin’. That was just for research. I was tryna see somethin’. For her. Not for me.”
Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. My feet were already movin’, not toward the club floor, but toward the back exit.
Away from the lights. Away from the noise.
Because deep down, I wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
But somethin’ was definitely off, so I left my club and went home to sleep that shit off.
A few hours later, I got up to work out, but for some reason I grabbed my energy drink and my glasses.
When I could’ve just put in my contacts like I usually do.
Nah. That couldn’t be right. I didn’t even like wearin’ my glasses.
I looked at ’em sittin’ on the dresser like they called to me, like they had a damn soul and still put them on my face.
The whole vibe was off, but whatever, I headed to the kitchen.
Steppin’ inside, I saw Jace at the island with his little anime boo, Tuesday.
She had on one of those oversized tees with some weird fox on the front, fuzzy socks pulled to her knees like she was at a damn sleepover.
And they weren’t just chillin’. Nah, they were deep in some wizard warfare.
Cards laid out, tiny figures posted up like medieval soldiers, spell cards scattered everywhere like somebody was about to summon Satan.
Normally, I’d clown and walk off. However, I leaned against the fridge and watched. Like a damn fan.
“Y’all conjuring demons or tryin’ to roleplay virgins again?”
Jace looked up mid-move, annoyed as hell. “It’s a strategy game.”
Tuesday snorted. Loud. “You’re just mad you don’t understand it.”
I smirked. “Sweetheart, the only strategy I need is which way to twist my sheets.”
Jace groaned. “Please. Spare us.”
“Fine, Potter. But don’t get her pregnant with a lightning bolt or some shit,” I chuckled, opening my drink.
But then, against all logic, I paused, rubbed the back of my neck, and tilted my head.
“You know, your card spacing’s kinda clean. Good symmetry.”
Both of their heads snapped toward me like I just announced I was vegan.
Jace blinked. “Did you just… compliment me?”
“No,” I said, too fast. “Just said it looked… organized. Chill.”
I took a long sip, side-eyein’ the dry erase board he posted on the wall. Normally, that thing wouldn’t make it to sunrise. But today? I actually nodded at it.
“He really lined up them tasks. Got the green and blue alternating… kinda aesthetic. Very Virgo-coded.”
My mouth was moving without clearance from my brain.
I gripped the counter like I’d just been possessed.
Tuesday was lookin’ at me like I grew a ukulele and started singin’ show tunes.
Then the door opened and Blyss came inside.
She had on that big-ass knit cardigan with them ridiculous buttons, a swishy corduroy skirt like she was about to go milk cows, and them damn bug-glasses that took up half her face.
But for some reason, I damn near forgot how to breathe.
That smile hit me like a defibrillator. I clenched my jaw but couldn’t stop starin’.
“Hi, Kase…” she said, all shy.