Page 11 of Nothing Like Your Ex

They rapped the lyrics to one another before Kwinn turned her attention back to the stage. She was enjoying herself more than she expected. Maybe it was the liquor still warming her stomach or the fact that she hadn’t been out like this in a while, but something about being surrounded by the noise and watching people have a good time made her forget about everything else.

“If this was back in MySpace days, I would’ve had this song on my page,” Saiko said, making Kwinn chuckle.

DMacc eventually slowed the music, letting the crowd settle enough for him to speak. He wiped his forehead with a white towel, then paced toward the center of the stage, breathing heavily.

“Aight, aight,” he said, holding up one hand, grinning. “Y’all turnt up in here.”

The crowd screamed louder as he drank from a bottle of water and smiled at them. “What’s up, Kansas City? Y’all ready to turn this mothafucka up for real? Y’all know I couldn’t touch down here without bringing my brotha out, right?”

DMacc hadn’t even said his name, and the arena was already overly hyped. A new beat dropped through the speakers, making the stage beneath their feet vibrate, and the crowd immediately recognized it. The reaction was almost deafening, with people screaming and chanting before the city’s own graced them with his presence.

“KC, what’s good?” Melo walked out, dapping DMacc up as he gave him the stage.

Seeing the crowd react the way they did made Kwinn grin. She knew exactly who Melo was even if she didn’t keep up with the rap industry. His name had been around for years, long before he became one of the biggest rappers to come out of the city. Unlike some other artists who blew up and forgot where they came from, Melo hadn’t.

Kwinn knew of him from way back when. Not personally, but they’d been in the same spaces on more than a few occasions. Seeing his face on TV or in magazines had nothing on actually seeing him command the crowd like he was right then. Melo walked farther onto the stage, and the entire arena lost whatever composure they had left.

Dressed in a chill fit, Melo rocked black sweatshorts, while a black tee stretched across his broad chest. Iced-out chains hung from his tattooed neck, dancing right along with the jewels on his wrists. The lights bouncing off the diamonds were absolutely disgusting and blinding.

Scarlet strobe lights flashed where he stood, matching the KC fitted on his head, the flags draped over the mob of niggas behind him, and the ones hanging from their pockets.

“Bitch,” Saiko hissed in a whisper. “Look at all these thuggin’ ass EST niggas.”

Kwinn’s eyes roamed the stage, taking in the sea of men and a few women. Any other woman would’ve been spooked by a gang of dangerously fine Black men rapping, throwing up their set, and waving flags. But Kwinn wasn’t. If anything, she was used to it and felt right at home. Saiko tapped her shoulder, drawing her attention to a pretty dark-chocolate girl getting her walk on. She was so effortlessly smooth with it.

“If I didn’t have these heels on, I’d hit that shit too,” Saiko said, grooving to the music.

“Girl, please.” Kwinn chuckled, knowing she was dead serious. “She is fucking it up, though.” As was everyone on stage.

Melo brought a different kind of energy to the venue. The men moved around the stage, hyping the crowd and shouting along with Melo’s uniquely calm tone, while the ladies rapped cutely. His deep voice carried through the speakers and stayed smooth even when the beat turned aggressive. A slight rasp beneath made his delivery and lyrics even colder. By the time he’d finished his set, the crowd was begging him to stay on.

“Y’all got this bitch rockin’, huh?” Melo asked, grinning, rubbing his lips together.

“I love you, Melo!” a random girl from the crowd yelled, frantically.

Smirking, Melo eyed the section. “I love you too,” he said smoothly into the mic, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

He stood there for a moment, taking even breaths and smiling as he looked out at the packed arena. This wasn’t his show, but it damn sure felt like it.

“It’s always love when I pop out in the city, and I fucks with y’all tough. Much respect to my brother, DMacc, for letting me bless the stage tonight,” Melo humbly said, chucking his head upward.

“Aye, fam”—DMacc began walking his way— “you know what it is. KC, make some fucking noise for Melo in this bitch. Had me thinking he was the headliner for a second.”

DMacc had Melo and the crowd laughing as he swaggered off stage with his crew following suit. For a moment, his eyes seemed to drift toward the side of the stage where Kwinn and Saiko were standing. Kwinn couldn’t tell whether he’d been looking at her or simply caught in the path of the lights, so she didn’t think much of it.

Another hour and a half of the concert went by, and Saiko could tell by the song DMacc was performing that it was almost over. Glancing around, she searched for her sister. Already headed in their direction, Endie smiled as she approached them.

“The show is about to end. Let’s head to the dressing room,” she suggested.

Following Endie’s lead, Kwinn and Saiko stood from their seats and walked behind her down the steps. They bent a few corners and reached the hallway where the dressing rooms were.

The energy backstage was different from the arena’s but still live. No one seemed to be in a rush to leave, as artists and their entourages filled the hallway. Fans with access took pictures, while others stood around talking about the show and trying to figure out what their next moves were. Security remained posted near the dressing rooms, and every few feet, Kwinn caught a familiar face from the city or somebody she recognized from social media.

“Yo, Endie!”

Endie stopped walking at the sound of her name being called. Recognizing the man, she smiled. “Hold on real quick, y’all.”

Kwinn and Saiko waited while Endie greeted one of the guys from DMacc’s crew. Saiko leaned against the wall, scrolling on her phone, while Kwinn looked around, taking in the scene. She wasn’t usually fascinated by backstage access, but there was something entertaining about watching everyone move around when the cameras weren’t on. The performers who had just commanded thousands of people were now standing around in sweats and slides, laughing with their friends and families. It all felt so comforting and surreal.