7. Ariana ‘Ari’ Monroe
Ariana ‘Ari’ Monroe
“How it’s looking out there? You look exhausted friend,” my home girl Jade said to me, as I walked inside of the locker room, holding cash in my hands because the tips that I’d been getting tonight was crazy.
I only came to the back, so that I could sit my ass down for a second, and I wanted to check my phone because it had been ringing nonstop while I was out on the floor.
The club’s manager was strict when it came to being on our phones while we were out on the floor, which is why I had to wait and check it when I got back here.
“Girl, the MBM niggas just walked in. You know how they do when they get here. Mark already gave me their section, so before I tend to them, I had to come down here, and catch my damn breath,” I responded to Jade, sitting down on the bench, and pulling my phone out.
Jade wasn’t a bottle girl, and she wasn’t a dancer.
She was the designer for us girls here. She was the one behind the looks that the strippers would wear whenever they stepped out on the dance floor, and the fly shit that myself, and all the bottle girls wore, she would design that too.
She didn’t come in every night, but on nights like this, when the club was busy, she would stick around in the locker room, so that the girls could pay for their pieces, and she would fix anything that needed to be altered right there on the spot.
I’ve known Jade for about three years now.
This was my girl. We had a relationship outside of this club shit.
She had a son the same age as my boy, so we would often do mommy and son dates, or the two of us would hang out without the kids.
“MBM is here? Is Dolo with them? I just talked to him this morning. He didn’t tell me shit about coming to the club tonight,” that was Jazelle.
She was the one that I was telling Riot about. Her and Dolo fucked around. I didn’t know the depths of it because me and her really weren’t friends, that’s why I didn’t have much to tell Riot, when I was explaining the situation to her.
“Yeah. He’s with them. The whole crew is out there,” I shared, and she sucked her teeth, while nastily rolling her eyes. You could tell that she was pissed.
Jazelle was sitting at one of the vanities, and she was fixing her hair.
She had light skin, to the point that she almost looked white.
Very pretty girl. Small waist with a fat ass.
She was rocking a long, honey blonde body wave wig unit, and whoever styled her hair for her had done a good job.
At the vanity, she had the curling iron on and was fixing up her curls.
I could very well see why Dolo would fuck with her because she did have the looks, but that was all that I could speak on.
I couldn’t speak on her personality or anything else like that because like I said, I didn’t know her like that.
She mumbled a bunch of shit under her breath, and I knew that she was going to be even madder once she found out that Mark didn’t give her MBM’s section.
Mark was the club owner. I received favoritism from him because he wanted to fuck me.
He would give me all the good sections with the big ballers, that would tip me so well that it would have my bills paid for at least two months at a time.
He gave the section to me, and another one of the bottle girls.
When Jazelle goes out front, and realizes that she wasn’t picked, she was going to be pissed.
I’m sure she thought that because she was fuckin Dolo, that the section would automatically be rewarded to her, but sadly, that’s not how things worked around here.
Jazelle eventually got up, and she stormed out of the locker room.
“Get ready for her to be pissed at you because you got the section, and she didn’t,” Jade said, being in the club scene for a while, so she already knew how it went. I just waved her off, and I tended to my phone.
I had a couple of missed calls from my auntie Keyshawn, and my baby daddy texted me too, asking me if I was cool with him keeping Amir for the rest of the week.
Me and my baby daddy were cool. That was literally my dawg.
His name was Andre. Andre and I went back since high school.
We were friends at first, but after high school, we’d crossed that line, eventually fucked a few times, and I got pregnant.
I was a bold bitch, and could do a lot of things, but I couldn’t abort a baby, even though I wasn’t in good financial standing at the time to be having a child.
We both decided that I should keep the baby, and that’s what I did.
Along the way, our relationship just didn’t work out.
We broke up by the time Amir was three. We never fucked around with each other after that, either.
We strictly co- parented. He was a damn good father, and I was a damn good mother as well.
My baby daddy didn’t give me any static about working at the club as a bottle girl and having to keep our son overnight.
He did it with ease. He had a girlfriend too, who would often be at his house while Amir was there, and I didn’t have a problem with that at all.
Her name was Malia, and the two of them have been dating for about a year now.
I was cool with Malia. She was good to my son, and that’s all that mattered.
I texted Andre back, letting him know that I was cool with him keeping Amir for the rest of the week, and then I called my auntie back so that I could see what she wanted.
For her to be calling me so late at night, I was wondering if it might have been an emergency, especially since she called twice.
I put the call in to her, and she answered on the third ring.
“What’s up auntie?” I asked once the call connected.
“Hey. I was calling you because I couldn’t get in contact with Bean. I got her though. She finally answered the phone. She was sleep,” she told me, and you could hear the relief in her voice.
“Okay. Yeah, when you called me, I was out on the floor, and you know we can’t be on our phones,” I let her know.
“I figured. How has it been having Riot over there? Don’t get me wrong, I know my daughter, so I know she’s always been one of little words, short tempered, and mainly to herself, but something about her is off.
Have you noticed that too, or am I looking too deep into it?
” she asked me, and I sighed at her question.
“Nah. It’s not just you. She’s like that at the house too.
She only perks up when Amir is home. You know she loves that boy.
You know you gotta watch the way you come at Riot because like you said, her temper is so short, but I’ve been wanting to ask her if anything happened to her in jail.
Something about her changed. She won’t eat shit that I cook.
It’s always some kind of excuse on why she won’t eat my food.
That girl don’t sleep, so she probably just lied to you when she told you that she was sleeping.
Its nights that I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, so that I could go out front and get something to drink, and she’ll be up in the living room, with the TV on, but not really watching it,” I started, but took a pause for a bit.
“She so grouchy lately too. The smallest things will aggravate her. Demi called me yesterday, telling me that Riot came over, and how she was mean as hell the whole time she was there. She probably just needs time to adjust. She was locked up for a year, and the world kept going. I have faith that she’s going to get it together,” I was trying to be positive.
“I hope so. What’s this with her not eating?
Even at her grandma and papa’s house the other day, she wouldn’t eat the food they cooked.
She came home tinier than she was when she went in.
I’m overthinking the hell out of this shit.
You think somebody might have poisoned her or something in jail? ” she asked.
“She probably just paranoid. Ain’t no telling what went on in that jail. Auntie, I know how you can get with Riot. Don’t force that shit out of her. Let her breathe. When she ready to talk about it, she will,” I finished.
I could tell she didn’t want to accept what I was saying, but she eventually did. We spoke for a little longer, and I told her that I would call her back in the morning.
From there, I tucked my phone in the back pocket of the little shorts that I was wearing, and I walked over to my vanity.
My hair was fine, but I wanted to add another coat of lip gloss.
I even sprayed some more perfume on me. I fluffed my hair, making sure that I looked damn good, and once everything checked out, I stood up, so that I could leave.
I knew that Mark would come looking for my ass if I didn’t get back out on the floor. Jade wished me luck, I thanked her, and I left the room.
As I was walking out onto the scene, the DJ was blasting Boston Richey, help me.
Miami’s clubs was truly something out of a movie.
The baddest bitches were on stage dancing, you could see all the money that was being thrown in the air, and the club that I worked at was always so packed, that sometimes, it was hard to maneuver around.
Not only that, but Miami niggas felt like because they owned a couple of Cuban link chains, rented luxury cars, and flashed a little money, that they could just grab on you, and I hated that shit.
Even right now, as I was walking to get to MBM’s section, I had to check three niggas for grabbing on me.