Page 17 of Queen of the Pole

“You walked your ass right into that trap. You lit her take you there every time, Deja. She was looking to get a rise out of you and fuck up your day. You let her do it too. Fuck her! Grab your stuff, so we can go. You worked hard today. You deserve a night to go out, and have fun,” Lyric said, walking over, and standing right in front of me.

Lyric knew how toxic the relationship was that I had with my mother. Shit, everyone that was close to me knew. In the past, whenever I would get into it with my mom, I would allow it to fuck up the rest of my day. If I argued with the bitch before work, it’s been times where I would call Blue, and tell him that I wasn’t coming in.

When you share so much trauma, and hurt from a person, I can’t just go on about my day so easily. It wouldn’t just be the argument that would fuck up my day. It would be me going down memory lane, thinking about all the other arguments in the past, and remembering all the fucked up things that she’s ever said to me.

Tonight, I wasn’t having that though. I was going to step out and enjoy myself in Atlanta. I wanted to be around some hood shit tonight. I wanted to see some of the finest strippers at the club tonight, throw some money on them, eat some good food, probably smoke a blunt, and take a few shots. I needed it.

HOURS LATER

12:57 A.M.

We were in a section at Magic city. There was so much money that you could hardly see the floor. So many people came out tonight for Kilo. With him having a hosting, and being the hottest rapper out of Atlanta, the line had been wrapped around the building all night, with folks trying to get inside. Kilo traveled with so many niggas, so as we were in the section with him, he had a gang of over twenty men with him. The men had been on me, and Lyric’s body all night. I wasn’t going though. Lyric was going for one of Kilo’s homeboys. She’s been talking with him, feeling him out for most of the time that we were here.

Right now, I was sitting down, with a hookah in front of me, taking pulls from it. It was the first time since I’ve been here that I really had a moment to be by myself and not have so many people in my face. Atlanta loved me here. I’ve been a special appearance plenty times at Magic city, so when I walked in an hour ago, I received so much love.

The DJ kept shouting me out, and the dancers went crazy for me once they saw me. I’ve received a few dances from the top strippers already, and now I was chilling. Kilo rapped a few of his popular songs, in which the crowd went crazy over. Now, he was standing by the railing, posted up with his homeboys. Fans were beneath him, with their phones out, recording him, touching him, just doing anything in their power to try and get his attention.

Shit like that is how I know I couldn’t be with him. I’m too possessive over my dick. I’m always ready to kill the little bitches back in Miami for dealing with Hitta. I couldn’t imagine millions of hoes around the world trying to fuck my man that’s a superstar. Then, niggas are so easy too. I’m sure once Kilo goes on tour for his new album, and he had to hit up all those cities, he’s probably going to fuck a bitch from each city. Nah. I wasn’t going for that.

I’m not sure if the nigga might have felt my eyes on him, but he suddenly looked back. He scanned the section with his eyes, as if it was me that he was looking for. He found me, gave me a quick smile, and swaggered his fine ass over to me.

I hated that I had the kind of big ole’ eyes that would tell on me. I could have been sitting here, acting like I wasn’t fazed by him, but my eyes were telling it all. They were heavily invested. They wouldn’t leave him. I was so in love with the all- black outfit that he had on tonight. It was a chill look, which was the kind of look that I loved for a man to have. I didn’t like an overly fashioned nigga. The kind that went out of their way to put a ‘look’ together. I liked for men to look like the only thing they did was get dressed. All Kilo did tonight was get dressed. He threw a couple of Cuban chains around his neck, there were Cuban bracelets on his wrist, and that was it. I fucked with it. He wasn’t wearing bedazzled jeans, with the matching top.

“I can’t believe how fuckin innocent you look,” is what he said to me, as he sat down next to me on the couch.

It wasn’t the first time that I’ve heard this. Men told me this all the time. Hitta was the main one always in my ear, telling me how innocent I looked. He saw the other side of me, especially in the bedroom. Nothing was off limits in the bedroom. I loved sex. I’ll die right there trying to show a nigga a new trick, or to keep up with some good dick.

“You don’t think I’m innocent?” I asked him, holding the hookah tip in my hand, batting my eyes at him, waiting for a response.

“Man, fuck no. I know you not innocent. I saw videos of you dancing. You do that shit so beautifully. I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing you dance in person yet though. Next time I’m in Miami, I’m going to pull up on you, so I can see it with my own two eyes. You look like the kind of woman that’ll give a nigga hell. Good hell though,” he said to me, followed by him licking those sexy ass lips. The same lips that I had been sucking on earlier.

“I can be a nigga’s peace, or I can be his worst nightmare. It just depends on how he treats me. I feed off people’s energy,” I told him, and he nodded his head towards that.

“I feel that. That’s real. What’s your situation that you have going on at home? You just got a nigga back in Miami that you fuck from time to time, or ya’ll really locked in? Let me know something. I want to hear what my competition is,” he was smooth with his words.

I liked that he could hold perfect eye contact as he looked at me. I was confidant, so when I talked to people, I liked to look them dead in their eyes. I’ve been told before that my gaze was very hypnotizing. I could snatch a man of his soul, just by looking him in his eyes. I could tell that that’s what was happening here. Kilo was looking at me like I was dessert.

“It’s just a situation. We’re not together, but we are. It’s complicated,” I said.

“You don’t give me the kind of vibes that you’ll let a nigga play with you like that though. Your energy. Your energy so different. You so confidant. I can tell by the way you dance. By the way you walk. Your walk so fuckin nasty, but it’s still classy. I know so many niggas that want you. When I told my crew that you were going to star in my music video, all of them went crazy. That’s why all of them showed up to the shoot. They wanted to see your pretty ass in person. With a confidence like that, and with the amount of niggas that want you, I would think that a nigga wouldn’t play behind you. Nothing about you gives that you would be in a complicated situationship,” he voiced, and when he finished, I rolled my eyes at him.

It was game. It was just a bunch of shit talking that he was doing. I knew a dog when I was in front of one. I didn’t need him to bark. All this game he was spitting at me was just a dog wagging its tail.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you would treat me any different? Nigga, your ass was just in the blogs the other day, having all those women beefing over you. You doing the same shit here in Atlanta that the nigga I have back home in Miami is doing to me. Also, let me correct you, love. I don’t have a man back at home that’s playing in my face. I’m at a point in my life where I don’t expect too much out of a man. A man going to move how they move, and I move accordingly. I’m booked, and busy. I get a lot of money too. The kind of schedule that I have, I don’t have it in me to be keeping tabs on a nigga, wondering what he’s out here doing. I’ve been in Atlanta since last night and not once have I stressed about what the situationship that I have back at home in Miami is doing. Whatever he’s doing right now in Miami is between him, God, and them hoes,” I was honest.

As if he loved the shit that I was talking, he smiled. He watched me intensely as I brought the hookah tip to my lips, took a slow pull, then allowed the smoke to slip from my mouth, never breaking eye contact with him.

“I move the way that I move with females because I never really found someone that’s ever made me want to change. I feel like if I were to fuck with you, you would make me want to change. If we were to ever fully get to a place where we lock in, you would have to stop dancing though. I fuck with your hustle. That shit is sexy. You gotta be one bad ass bitch to be able to get all them niggas to trick off on all that money for you, just by showing your face, body, and doing tricks on the pole. My money long, so you wouldn’t have to dance. That’s the only reason why I would want you to stop. Not because it’s something that’ll make me insecure. Nah. Never that. It wouldn’t serve you a purpose to dance if I got the money” he admitted.

I rolled my eyes at that too. I hated every time I talked to a nigga and the first thing they said was that if we got into a relationship, that I would have to stop dancing. Granted, I’m sure that it was the appropriate thing for me to do if I ever got into a serious relationship, but I wanted a man to allow me to make that call. I didn’t need a nigga telling me from the jump what he wanted me to do. That’s where he was going to have me fucked up at.

“And right there is where you’re going to have me fucked up. No nigga is going to tell me that I gotta stop dancing. Ima stop dancing whenever I feel like it,” I voiced, needing him to understand me when I said that to him. Like it was a joke, he laughed right in my face.

“You saw the way I kissed you earlier. You had to stop a couple of times and moan. I didn’t even have to touch it, but I know I had that pussy leaking. If just a kiss had the power to make you lose a few screws, imagine what this dick will do. If I’m dropping dick in you, and I tell you to stop dancing, I bet I make you stop fuckin dancing,” he went on to tell me.

I didn’t say anything else after that. Not because I was turned on. Not because he shut me up. I just didn’t want to get into the whole debate. I meet so many men that swear they were going to get me off the pole, and have me put up in a house, while they took care of me. I didn’t want that. That wasn’t a goal for me.

“I have been at it nonstop since I graduated high school. Dancing, and making money is all I knew. I wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with a soft life. Plus, nothing about you niggas give that you can offer a bitch a soft life. Ya’ll play a part in why I have to be so hard in the first place,” I finished. I knew I wasn’t supposed to engage anymore, but I just needed to get this last part out.