She smiled back, a little softer this time, and we both drank.
Not long after, the lights dimmed and the stage lit up. Rallo walked out with a mic in hand, dressed simple but fly—black tee, chains hittin’ under the lights and some clean ass Cartier shades. But the vibe changed when the pianist started playin’, soft keys floatin’ through the room. A guitarist strummed right after, smooth and low, and the bass slid in behind it. It wasn’t no turn-up show. It felt like a tiny desk performance. It was intimate, but with raw talent.
Rallo leaned into the mic and started flowin’. His voice was deep, calm, poetic, with words that painted pictures. He rapped about hustlin’, about love, about loyalty, all over live instruments, and the whole crowd was rockin’ with it. Niggas was noddin’ they heads, women was singin’ along, and I felt that shit in my chest like I was listenin’ to truth.
Ka’mari was vibin’ too, her hand liftin’ with the beat, her lips movin’ to the words. She looked alive, free, and it was contagious. It was like all the bullshit back at the crib didn’t even exist. She leaned closer to me, her shoulder pressin’ into mine, and I ain’t even fight it.
A waitress slid through again with a hookah, set it down on the low table, and Ka’mari jumped on it quick. She pulled the hose, lit the coal, and started puffin’, blowin’ thick clouds into the air. I waved for a cigar, and minutes later I had a fat Cohiba in my hand, cut, lit, and burnin’ smooth. The smoke from both of us mixed in the air, layered with the music, and the liquor already warm in my system.
Ka’mari shifted even closer, and I let my arm drop behind her, pullin’ her just enough to let her know I wasn’t pushin’ her away this time. The truth was, I was enjoyin’ this. The music, the vibe and nostalgia of it all. It reminded me of the nights we used to post up in random lounges, laughin’, smokin’, arguin’, kissin’, then leavin’ together like it was us against the world.
I looked at her, and it hit me why I ain’t ever fully let her go. She was beautiful, yeah, but it wasn’t just that. She had a way of pullin’ me back into moments that felt timeless, like everything outside of us ain’t matter. And right now, sittin’ here drinkin’ and listenin’ to Rallo spit over live instruments, I couldn’t front—my heart was beatin’ different.
Ka’mari put the hookah down and leaned into me, her hand restin’ on my thigh. She looked up, her eyes catchin’ mine, and for once it wasn’t no games or attitude. It was just her, soft,open, damn near vulnerable. I ain’t think twice. I leaned down, she leaned up, and we met in the middle.
It wasn’t no wild kiss, or some sloppy shit. It was slow, like we was both rememberin’ somethin’ we used to know by heart. She wrapped her arms around me, I pulled her closer, and the world around us faded under Rallo’s voice floatin’ through the club.
For the first time in a long time, we was in sync. Mutual... Not me chasin’ her, not her tryna prove somethin’, but just two people caught up in what used to be, and maybe what still was. And I ain’t gon’ lie, I let myself feel that shit.
By the time Rallo was done performin’, I was feelin’ buzzed like a muthafucka. Four cups in and that D’USSÉ had my body warm, but I was still cool, and in control. The lights was comin’ on, niggas was grabbin’ they stuff, and the guards was movin’ through lettin’ folks know it was a wrap. I stood up slow, stretched a little, and Ka’mari slid right next to me, her hand loopin’ around my arm like she ain’t want nobody to forget who she was with.
On the way out, I was stoppin’ every few feet to dap niggas up. Old potnas, new money cats, promoters, rappers, all of ‘em showin’ love. That was the type of respect I got when I walked in the room—I never had to beg for it or force it. It just came with the name. Ka’mari smiled polite when she needed to, leaned into me the rest of the time, and I could tell she was ridin’ high off the night.
Outside, the cool breeze hit me and sobered me up a little. The guard by the ropes dapped me again, told me to pull up whenever, and I nodded, slidin’ my shades on even though themoon was the only light out. My Maybach was still parked without a scratch on it. I walked Ka’mari to her side, opened the door for her, watched her slide them pretty legs in, then closed it careful. I circled around, dropped in the driver’s seat, and fired the engine up. The sound alone was enough to make niggas on the sidewalk turn they heads.
I glanced over at her while I pulled off. “You enjoyed yourself?”
She tilted her head back, her eyes half-closed, lips still glossed up, smilin’ like she ain’t had a care in the world. “Mhm. I had an amazing time. I’m glad we came.”
I nodded, grippin’ the wheel with one hand and lettin’ the other hang loose on my lap. “Yeah, it was somethin’ to see. Rallo still got that shit.”
“Yes, he do,” she replied with a wider smile.
We cruised down the block, music low now. My buzz was floatin’, her vibe was soft, and for a second it almost felt too easy. Then the thought crept in, that old bitterness, and I had to ask.
“That hoe ass nigga ain’t been hittin’ you up, huh?”
She turned her head quick, a smirk spreadin’ across her lips, and I knew she knew who I was talkin’ about. The same clown she was ‘bout to marry if I ain’t crash the whole shit.
“No,” she said, still smirkin’. “Why you askin’?”
I shrugged, keepin’ my eyes on the road. “Just askin’, that’s all.”
She cut her eyes at me, leaned her head on the seat like she ain’t buy it. “Uh huh.”
That tone of hers, that little doubt in it, made me grip the wheel tighter, but I ain’t let it show.
Then she came right back at me, her voice low but cuttin’ like a blade. “And what you gon’ do about Kashmere while you over here askin’ me about Donovan?”
I cut my eyes at her. “Man, don’t fuck the night up bringin’ her up. We was good.”
She sat up straighter now, her smirk gone. “Mhm. Don’t forget I had to fight that bitch before we even came out tonight. Salad tossed on me, drink all over me, had me changing clothes last minute. And you still lettin’ her be there.”
Her lips pressed tight, and she let out a long breath, turning her head back toward the window. “I’m just saying… if I didn’t love you, if I didn’t wanna be with you, there’s no way I’d even walk back in that mansion after the shit I just went through in there.”
The car got quiet after that. I knew she meant that, and part of me respected it, but another part of me hated how she had to remind me. I slid my hand across my lap, reached over, and gave her thigh a firm squeeze. It wasn’t rough or light, but just enough to let her know I heard her.
“Chill, mami,” I said, low and even.
