I couldn’t even lie to myself. I was hooked on him, from way he moved, the way he handled me and the way he made me feel when we was good… it was hard to walk away from that. But then it was this feeling like I was givin’ more than I was gettin’. It was like I was waitin’ on somethin’ that he wasn’t ready to give me yet. And I didn’t know how long I was supposed to sit in this space before I started losin’ myself.
I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes, tryin’ to calm my thoughts down, but it wasn’t workin’ because o matter how much I cared about him…I cared about myself too.
Right now, I couldn’t tell if stayin’ with him was me bein’ patient… Or me bein’ stupid…
Drahma Town
One week later…
I can’t even lie… lately, I had been on some “fuck a nigga” shit.
And it wasn’t even on no childish, bitter type vibe either. It was just… I was tired.
I was tired of goin’ back and forth, tired of tryin’ to make somethin’ work that never seemed to just flow the way it was supposed to. Me and Renza could have a good moment, a real good one, and then next thing I knew, we was right back sittin’ in tension like we didn’t just express how much we loved each other.
That shit got old after a while.
So, tonight, I wasn’t thinkin’ about him, and I didn’t wanna think about him. I was done sittin’ around waitin’ on a nigga to decide what I meant to him.
I had gotten up earlier, did my hair, and when I say I took my time, I took my good fuckin’ time.
I installed me a long blonde wig that fell all the way past my ass, and straight down my back like silk. I made sure the lace was laid, my edges were sleek, and everything was lookin’ how it was supposed to. My makeup was soft but still gave what it needed to give. My lips were glossy, lashes sittin’ right and skin lookin’ too damn good under the lights.
Then I got dressed, pullin’ on some black leather shorts that was short as hell, ridin’ up just enough to show the curve under my ass cheeks while my legs was all out. I slid into my heels and stood for a second, lookin’ at how everything sat the way it was supposed to.
I looked at myself in the mirror and turned to the side, smirkin’ a little while I took it all in. I looked too damn good to be sittin’ around stressin’ over a nigga who couldn’t get it together, and for once, I wasn’t about to let that shit ruin my night or my mood. Tonight wasn’t about feelings or overthinkin’ what me and Renza had goin’ on. Tonight was about me, how I felt, and doin’ whatever the hell I wanted without checkin’ in or second guessin’ it.
Mecca pulled up, and soon as I got in the car, she looked me up and down and let out a low whistle.
“Yeah… you outside tonight for real.”
I laughed and adjusted my hair. “I told you I wasn’t playin’.”
We hit our hookah lounge first, and soon as we walked in, the vibe was already right. The lights sat low across the room, the music played smooth through the speakers, and people was talkin’ and laughin’ like they didn’t have a care in the worldwhile hookah smoke drifted through the air and settled into everything around us.
A couple of our regulars spotted us and waved, and we made our rounds, speakin’ to everybody, checkin’ in and makin’ sure everything was straight like we always did.
I grabbed a hookah hose and took a slow pull, lettin’ the smoke sit before I blew it out, leanin’ back in my seat.
“This what I needed,” I said.
Mecca nodded. “You needed to get out that house and out your head.”
She wasn’t lyin’…
After a while, we left there and headed to the club. When we stepped inside, it was a whole different energy from what we had just left. The music hit harder with bass knockin’ through the floor while the lights flashed across the crowd. People was packed in close, movin’ like everybody came out with the same idea.
We grabbed our drinks at the bar, and before I could even take a real sip, Mecca was already pullin’ on my hand, draggin’ me toward the dance floor with that look on her face like she wasn’t about to let me stand around all night. I laughed and went with it, lettin’ myself fall right into the music with her, and from that point on, we wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but vibin’ and movin’ like we didn’t have a single thing to worry about.
Every song that came on, we knew it. Every beat, we caught it. I was bent over, throwin’ it back with my hair swingin’, and hands on my thighs while Mecca stood behind me, hypin’ me up and recordin’ everything.
“Turn around!” she yelled over the music.
And I did, droppin’ lower, givin’ the camera exactly what it needed, not even carin’ who was lookin’ or what they thought. Niggas was watchin’ with phones out, drinks paused mid-air, and I felt all that attention.
I ain’t even care who was watchin’ at this point. The way the music was hittin’ and how my body was movin’, I just let myself fall into it, lettin’ all that attention sit on me without shyin’ away from it. Mecca was laughin’ behind me, still recordin’, and I already knew that video was gon’ eat soon as it hit my page.
“Girl, post that!” she yelled.
