32. Rico
Rico
Snow pops her bubble gum as we wait for the elevator to come.
Gum is her new thing. Something to work her jaw and calm her nerves.
Shad wants her to come to his birthday show, so even though the section at Palace will have liquor and weed, the dressing room won’t.
Then after she performs their song, she’s supposed to go straight to the airport to catch a flight to Texas with her label for a week to parley with some producer out there.
One of the songs she’s planning to tweak will be her first single.
This is important to her, and the producer, some scrawny white kid she met on social media, is making waves with local artists.
Even now, with her tapping away on her phone, I’m sure she’s messaging them.
They are both heavily into body modification–the producer donning a thick bull ring, spacers in their ears, and a split tongue.
Snow was geeked, showing me pictures of them.
A split tongue is a little too out there, even for me.
She shifts her weight to her other foot, poking her hip out.
Snow has on what she calls a Mugler, but it looks like a regular bodysuit with cutouts to me.
It molds to her frame, showing off the body I spent a year building.
She’s back in a blonde wig, this one falling to the backs of her knees.
Her freckles aren’t covered, and she’s got this brown gloss on that’s been keeping my dick hard since her hair and makeup team left her crib.
But it’s no cut outs around her pussy, so I refrain from bending her over.
The elevator comes, and we climb in. She swings all her hair to one shoulder and leans into me, humming when I place my arm around her shoulder.
“We look good together,” she says, watching us in the mirrors of the elevator doors.
Her hands find the diamond pendant of Fredo on my chest, and places it where it’s supposed to go. It’s the only color I have on, since I decided to be head ass and wear a black tee, black jeans, and black timbs. It be too hot for a jacket in Palace, and I like niggas seeing my piece anyway.
It’s weird, growing facial hair. I look more my age than I have in a long time. She pulls on my goatee, grinning at our reflection, like she can read my mind.
“Be on your best behavior, Rico.”
I grin, biting her fingers gently. “But being bad is so fun, Snow.”
She mashes her lips together, then pokes the back of my throat with that fucking press-on nail, making me choke.
“I’m serious, Rico. The cat’s out of the bag. Don’t be a fucking asshole or I’m fucking Redrum.”
My hands are cradling my throat like that will help. We get to the lobby, and she ambles out, leaving me to stumble behind her.
“I’ma fuck you up,” I stammer, getting control of myself as we walk out into the late winter night. My niggas are pregaming for Shad’s show at Set’s old penthouse, on the next block. When my throat stops feeling like it’s on fire, I catch up to Snow, pulling her close to me again.
“You know I’ma get you back for that?”
“Yes,” she sighs, “and since it’ll be a week of you thinking about how I got you, I know I’ma be limping by the time you’re through with me.”
“You walking pretty straight to me right now, and I had you folded up a few hours ago.”
Snow blows a bubble, smirking when it pops and her tongue twirls it back in her mouth.
I take out my phone, and she snatches it as soon as she sees the camera’s on. We slow down as she flicks us up, taking different selfies and some videos of us.
“Yeah, you look good on my arm,” she gushes, sending them to herself. When she sees her contact picture, she cuts her eyes to me and pushes my phone into my chest.
“That is such an ugly picture of me.”
I pocket my phone and throw an arm over her shoulder as we cross the street. “You don’t know how to take ugly pictures, bae. Don’t be like that.”
She grunts, but doesn’t say anything. My kiss on her temple disarms her though, and she’s back chewing her gum by the time we’re in Set’s condo.
YT grabs her immediately, pulling her into the guest room. We’re the last to get here, and I grin at all the different looks of my niggas seeing I’m deadass about Snow being my woman.
“Luney! Come shot up, nigga!”
Brina rolls her eyes at her husband, before walking to the guest room, leaving it only the niggas in the living area. Nut tries to snatch the shot out of Set’s hand, but he takes it, shaking his head before handing Nut the empty glass.
“You know you a fuckin’ lightweight,” Nut grits, but Set waves him off.
“One not gon’ knock me off my square. In fact, it’ll keep me cool enough so I ain’t gotta knock a nigga out. Luney face just healed.”
“You ain’t ever really been such a talker. You getting scary in yo old age?” I pull at my new chin hairs, watching his eyes flash and Nut try to keep him near.
“You know I lived a long life, on Baby!” Set grins, looking around. “So many memories in this crib. Maybe I am slowing down, but niggas can’t ever forget what the fuck I be on, ain’t that right, Luney?”
“Aight. I’m over this. Girls! Come on out here! I got some shit to say!” Shad stands from the couch and takes the tequila from Reem. Set and Reem bristle when he pours it down the drain, and we all gather around the island as Mace slides next to him.
“Man, look. It’s my birthday. I get that niggas been on bullshit, but now it’s affecting me.
Ty refuses to come, and though I don’t blame him,” Shad grits, scowling at me, “it’s still weak that on top of mourning my niggas with every win, now I gotta think about the niggas breathing that are missing too.
So for this one night, put all that fuckin’ animosity away, and turn up with me. Or else.”
“Or else what?!” Nut barks.
Shad shrugs. “I’ll kill myself. Shit, I’ll jump right now!”
“He’s not playing!” Mace yells over everyone yelling for him to shut the fuck up.
“That is a horrible joke, Shad,” Brina spits.
“Who says I’m joking?” Shad folds his arms. “This the one day it’s all about me. It’s my party, and I can die if I want to. And I swear to God, I look around and see anything other than my niggas being merry and celebrating more life, I’m naming you niggas in my note and slitting my wrist.”
“And if y’all stubborn niggas make me a single mother, I will make it my life’s mission to get new, better, richer niggas for all my homegirls. Starting with Brina.” Mace narrows her eyes at Set, who flips her off.
“Both y’all dramatic as fuck. But I ain’t mad at it. And I guess, for solidarity, we won’t drink while Sober Sally is around. But I got another sprinter for yo ass, because I need my medicine. Choc won’t let me smoke at home no more.”
“They’re outside already. Boys in one, girls in another. See y’all there!”
“Don’t go nowhere without security!” Set yells after them, and I catch Brina rolling her eyes at her husband again, right before Reem comes up to me.
“You good?” I ask, clamping my hand down on his shoulder.
He nods, but I don’t believe him until his eyes drag up to mine.
“I’m straight, brodie. Me and moms, we had a long ass talk, and we straight too. Better than straight. I get the secrecy and shit. It’s heavy as fuck, but you know, Love don’t let me do shit alone no more.”
My lips twitch. “You got a good one.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, following the others as we file out of the condo. “You know the feeling. But we can chop it up about that later.”
We dap each other up, and Nut turns and pulls me away, yelling about how I’m a simp ass nigga as we all get into the elevator.
Shad cuts his eyes to me, but Nut curves his forearm around his neck for old time’s sake, and I know we finna turn his young ass up for his birthday.
Nut holds out a shot glass for me and starts pouring up some reposado. Palace is filled to the brim with niggas, and Shad and Snow are about to perform any minute.
I’ve been separated from her since we all came in through the side. I didn’t really plan on drinking tonight, but when Set told Nut that Ty-Ty was coming, I figured a couple shots while Snow wasn’t around wouldn’t hurt.
I deserved the hits Ty-Ty got in last month, so I ate them. Now, though, I feel like the nigga is going too far. Anyone who isn’t saying fuck me, he’s saying fuck them. So as of now, he’s only speaking to Set and Haze, not even Reem.
Childish ass shit. Especially because Ty-Ty can’t function being alone nor cast out. He doesn’t come to his auntie Lala’s for dinner. He just out in the world, prolly popping percs and crying on strippers’ titties and shit.
And maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I should have took him to Belize with me when I first went.
Had him involved with Mars from the very beginning.
He a vault–he would hold Fredo’s secrets, if he already didn’t know.
Maybe taking care of his little cousin could have saved him from years of wading in the bullshit he’s been wading in.
It’s easy to think about that shit now that we’re at odds.
How one decision could have changed everything.
I take another shot when I see Ty-Ty come in with an entourage of niggas I ain’t ever seen him be with. Then I blink my eyes, and recognize one of the niggas immediately.
Peso Durand. I shot out his back windows after Ty-Ty lost to him at one of their underground fights.
Ty-Ty leads some young girl toward Haze and Patience on the other side of the section, while Milli, a young nigga who Ty-Ty’s granny has damn near adopted, comes to dap me up.
Feeling eyes on me, I glance at Ty-Ty again, and the mug on him is something serious.
Thankfully, the girls occupy him, and I pour up another shot to take with Milli.
This isn’t a good idea. Me and Snow didn’t really talk about if she expected me to abstain. It was something I thought about on my own. I already don’t smoke, and I rarely drink. But I’m also rarely out of my element. Rarely in the unknown. Especially about my niggas.