Fucking Sean’s ass. Always meeting some girl at the Galleria. This time, it was this girl who lived in Tree Street Piru territory. It was her birthday kickback, and she wanted us to perform.
Nevermind he’s a BB and them niggas be on sight. She offered us a hundred each, on top of birthday pussy for Sean, so he was all for it.
Our first paid gig.
And we shut that shit down. All three of us.
Sean made me sing the hook to one of our unreleased songs, but I mostly stayed at the turntables, while he and Sin worked the crowd. Nigga was scared getting his braces tightened would fuck up his flow, but they did they shit, foreal.
Shit was all gravy, until they started gangbanging.
We had to run out blasting, even Sin’s usually scary ass, but we made it out, and even got paid before we did all that.
Now we’re back in BB territory, high tailing it to one of Set’s traps where Sean sometimes stays when Ms. Sheryl’s working a double.
“We really them muthafuckin’ niggas boy!” Sean screams into the night.
He throws both his arms over us, making us cackle as he recounts how crazy shit just got.
“They was really feeling us! Shotta beats had ‘em twerking and gangbanging and shit… they was even feeling yo tired bars, Sin!”
“Fuck you,” he chuckles, shoving Sean away.
“Nah foreal, we can take it all the way y’all. We just gotta play it right. Get the studio, find a videographer. We can really do this shit.”
“We can, foreal,” I add, still on a high from the night. “I didn’t think being in front of everyone would be so lit.”
Sean smirks at me. “I told yo ass! We need to get you in the booth foreal, Shotty! Nah, maybe Shotta. Yeah, that’s morelit… Fuck! This is the best night of my fuckin’ life!” He starts hitting his dougie and recitingWay Too Goneby Young Jeezy, his favorite song by his favorite rapper. That’s why he goes by Yung Beezy, though he’ll say some other dumb ass reason, depending on who asks.
“This nigga’s a fool,” Sincere remarks. But for once he’s grinning like the both of us.
“You let that thang go back there!” I playfully shove him.
“Shit, I had to. I’m too cute to be a Tree nigga’s bitch.”
Sean and I fall over laughing at this dumb nigga, before we go back and forth rapping Future’s verse.
Our first fucking show. Ended in gunshots, but we still had the party lit.
It’s only up from here.
Macy
Stronghandskneadmytitties, making me moan.
Since when are these dreams 4D?
Because it’s too damn early for me to be awake.
God, so much has happened in the last seventy-two hours. Mom is inconsolable, and I’m flying out this morning with Sadé and YC to see about her and the funeral. I bought a tentative ticket for Shaddy, just in case, but the way it took my baby hours to cry himself to sleep last night, I still don’t know.
I don’t think it’s hit me that Uncle Junior is gone. I don’t even know if it will, like how it’ll hit the others. Sometimes it’ll hit me that Mo is gone, and I’ll hug on Denver extra hard, or talk to Mom for a long while. Or watch a musical and cry a little then. And then I’ll write to him or work on my paintings. But that’s it. Once the activity is done, I feel better, and I go on about my day.
I keep waiting for this big blow up but I don’t think it’ll happen. Maybe my grief will transmute like it always has. Into something beautiful.
A soft kiss caresses my shoulder. “Are you up?”
“Mhmm.” I turn and see Shaddy already gazing at me. I can’t decide if he looks better or worse than he did last night. So much was purged from him, if only to make room for new trauma.
