by Erica Hilton
“Come and take a ride with me,” he said.
“A ride? Where to?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
At first, she was skeptical. He and Mecca were an item, and Mecca had been at the apartment nearly every day since they had gotten back together. Every night, Chanel could hear them in the bedroom, probably having some of the best sex they ever had. Chanel couldn’t help but to be a bit envious of their relationship and their sex life. Hers had been put on hold for a while.
“So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“Like I told you, it’s a surprise,” he repeated.
A surprise for me or Mecca? she thought.
“Let me get my coat,” she said.
She stood up and went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She went to the bedroom window and gazed outside. It was a cold day, and each day it seemed like the world around her was becoming colder. For some reason, Claire came into her thoughts. Chanel didn’t know why she started thinking about Claire, but she wondered if she was okay. Though they didn’t always see eye-to-eye, they had both been through some shit.
Chanel threw on her Moncler jacket and joined Pyro out in the hallway. He was still all smiles.
“This better be worth my time, Pyro. I got things to do, you feel me?” she joked with him.
“It will be.”
As Pyro drove, he remained in a high spirits.
Mecca’s pussy must be good. It has him grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she joked to herself.
“I see you’re in a very good mood today, Pyro. Why’s that?”
“What, I can’t be in a good mood?”
“Yeah, you can, but you seem a bit extra with it today.”
“I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s good to see you happy,” she said.
“Things are going great with Mecca.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“I mean, she’s smart, beautiful, and ambitious, and we can make a great life together,” he stated.
“Mecca is a great person. I can definitely cosign on that. So, you’re in love with her, huh?”
“I do love her.”
“And she really loves you too.”
Pyro continued to smile and drive to their destination.
“I went to see Mateo again. He asked about you,” Chanel said.
“How’s he coming along?”
“Every day is a blessing for him. And he’s coming along really well.”
“Damn, I’ve been meaning to go visit him, but I’ve been so caught up with everything . . .”
“He understands, Pyro. He’s grateful for everything you’ve done for him, including keeping up with his medical expenses,” she said.
“Yeah, but I need to start being there for him more. I’ve been distracted,” he said.
“You’re in love. That’s a reasonable distraction,” she replied.
Pyro was grateful to have Chanel as a friend. He knew that he could talk to her about anything. She was a good listener and she gave good advice. Their conversation continued freely until Pyro arrived at his destination in the city.
Chanel was confused. She wondered why they were in the Diamond District. Pyro looked at her with a smile, and he picked up on her confusion.
“I bet you wanna know why we’re here,” he said, pulling into a parking garage.
“Yeah.”
“I need your help in picking out an engagement ring for Mecca.”
Ah-Ah, what…? she thought. Chanel was shocked and speechless.
“Are you serious?”
“The utmost.”
She didn’t know what to say or how to react, so she just smiled. She glanced down at her own empty ring finger and swallowed a host of emotions—jealousy being one of them. It looked like Mecca was going to get married before her. Her friend’s life had changed for the better, and she felt that her life had been destroyed.
“She deserves it, Chanel. Mecca is great woman and I’m not trying to lose her,” Pyro said as he got out of the car.
Chanel reluctantly followed him out of the garage and into the quaint jewelry retailer. Right away, they were greeted by an orthodox Jewish man with a grizzly beard who was dressed in black clothing and long curls.
“Welcome. I’m Seth. How may I help you, my friend?” the man asked.
“I’m here to buy a diamond engagement ring for my girlfriend,” Pyro said.
Seth immediately assumed that Chanel was his lady. He smiled at her and said, “Well, congratulations.”
“Oh, it’s not me,” she quickly corrected. “I’m just here to help him pick out the perfect ring for my friend.”
“Well, tell me what you’re looking for and we can take things from there,” said the jeweler.
“No doubt,” Pyro happily replied.
Chanel pretended to be happy and excited for the couple as Seth showed them different styles and cuts of beautiful and expensive rings. Each ring was remarkable and flawless, and they all came with a hefty price tag. But for Pyro, money wasn’t an issue. He was willing to spend whatever on a ring for his woman so she could flaunt it to her university friends.
Chanel tried to pick a modest ring for Mecca, stating that her friend wasn’t flashy and that she admired the simple things. But Pyro felt the opposite. He wanted his woman to have the biggest and gaudiest diamond ring ever.
Pyro ended up picking out a 7-carat platinum setting diamond ring that was truly gorgeous. The ring even made Chanel envious. She wished Mateo was putting it on her finger. And it didn’t come cheap. Pyro dropped $90,000 onto the counter like he was Floyd Mayweather, and the jeweler was all smiles.
“Anything for my lady,” he proudly proclaimed.
“She is a very lucky woman,” Seth replied.
Leaving the jewelry store, Chanel tried to smile and be happy for Pyro and Mecca, but it was becoming difficult. The engagement ring Mecca was about to receive was sinking into her mind like quicksand. She thought, Why am I hating on my best friend? I should be happy for her. But it continued to feel like the opposite no matter how hard she tried.
She climbed into the passenger seat of Pyro’s car and sat there gazing out the window, lost in her own troubling thoughts.
“You think she’ll like it, right?” Pyro asked.
“Yeah. She’s gonna love it,” she replied faintly.
Picking up on her aloof response, he asked, “You good, Chanel? Everything okay wit’ you?”
“I’m fine, Pyro . . . just thinking about some things.”
“Like what? Mateo?”
“That and other issues that I got going on.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, Chanel. I’m there for you like you’re here for me,” he said.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“So, you good?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Listen, I wanna make this proposal really special. I want to set up something nice for Mecca, and I’m gonna need your help wit’ this.”
“And what do you have planned?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” he said. “That’s why I need you in my corner right now, Chanel. I don’t wanna mess things up. I want this proposal to be really memorable for her.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with,” she replied halfheartedly.
He grinned. “I would appreciate that so much. You’re the best.”
Chanel didn’t feel like she was the best. It felt like she was drowning in jealousy, sorrow, and displeasure. It felt like she was misery and she wanted to drag her friend along for some company.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wanda was sprawled sloppily across the couch in Charlie’s living room. She was tipsy and high and looking for an escape from her trouble
s. She and her man, Wisdom, had gotten into a major fight earlier. Wanda swung on him several times and threw a bottle at his head. Her temper had gotten the best of her, and Wisdom threatened to kill her. So she left in a hurry, escaping to Charlie’s place to hide from him.
It was a Wednesday night and Charlie didn’t care that it was a weekday. Wanda had become a regular guest, and the two of them frequently hung out in the living room, which doubled as Claire’s room. They would have their own private party with drugs and liquor and talking shit. Wanda had become something like a leech in Charlie’s life. She loved the area that Charlie was in, she loved the apartment, and she loved cruising around town in Charlie’s SL Benz—along with being affiliated with someone who was on the rise. Charlie was making money and she was making a name for herself on the streets, and Wanda wanted to be a part of that.
Wanda didn’t know it was Charlie who sent the cops to kick in her front door looking for stolen merchandise.
Charlie took a swig of Hennessy straight from the dwindling bottle. “You and ya nigga always fighting and breaking the fuck up, and then y’all get back together like the shit ain’t happen.”
“Fuck that nigga this time, for real. He ain’t shit,” Wanda griped.
“Bitch, please. You say that now, but next week, you gonna be riding his big black dick and forgettin’ about y’all fight. Shit, I see why you keep goin’ back to him. He knows how to fuck right—especially in doggystyle,” Charlie said, taking a deep pull from her weed vape pen.
“What? How you know my nigga got a big dick? And how . . . how you know he likes to fuck doggystyle?” Wanda slurred.
“Cuz he looks like a nigga that can handle bitches like us,” Charlie replied, exhaling the vapor into the air.
Suddenly, Wanda wasn’t too tipsy or high to ask questions and put two and two together. Charlie was speaking too freely about Wisdom—especially about his dick game and how he liked to fuck a bitch. Though she and Wisdom had their issues, Wanda loved him.
Wanda stood up from the couch with a frown. “Is there sumthin’ you ain’t tellin’ me, Charlie?”
“Sit ya dumb ass down, cuz I ain’t in the mood for your drama right now, Wanda,” Charlie retorted. “You really gonna trip over Wisdom? He ain’t shit—he been out there fuckin’ everything that moves. So don’t start trippin’ over that nigga right now.”
Wanda became incensed. “Bitch, you fucked him, didn’t you? You fucked Wisdom!”
“And if I did, so what? That nigga a ho,” Charlie replied nonchalantly.
Wanda stepped threateningly closer to Charlie, getting in her face with her hands moving around wildly. “What, bitch? You a trifling-ass ho—fuckin’ cunt bitch!”
“Fuck you!” Charlie shot back. “You better step back, bitch, and get the fuck outta my face.”
“Or what? What the fuck you gonna do?” Wanda dared her with a hard stare.
And then it happened. Wanda coughed and spit out a loogie in Charlie’s face. The nasty phlegm latched on to the side of Charlie’s right eye and her cheek. Charlie reacted in a heartbeat and punched Wanda so hard that it looked like her face exploded. Their argument escalated into a fierce fight with yelling and screaming, strong punches, and hair pulling.
Charlie struck Wanda several times with a combination of blows, but Wanda’s rage matched hers. They wrestled inside the living room, knocking over furniture, glasses, and pictures from the walls. Charlie grabbed a handful of Wanda’s hair and tried her best to pull it out from the roots, wanting the bitch to become bloody and baldheaded. Wanda counter-attacked by thrusting her elbow into the side of Charlie’s face and her chin. Charlie stumbled and Wanda lunged at her like a pouncing lion.
“Bitch! Fuck you, bitch!” Wanda shouted.
Wanda was stronger than Charlie thought—aggressive too. Knowing Charlie had fucked the man she was in love with ignited such a ferocious rage inside of Wanda that she started to have strength like she was Luke Cage. And since Claire was at work, there was no one around to break it up.
Wanda started to get the upper-hand on Charlie. As with her brawl with Chanel, Charlie was quickly finding herself on the losing end of a fight. She was determined not to lose to Wanda, though. She managed to escape Wanda’s grasp and made a beeline for the kitchen. Wanda chased after her, determined to finish what they had started. Rage and hatred had completely overwhelmed her.
“I knew you was a snake-ass bitch, Charlie!” she shouted. “I’ma fuckin’ kill you!”
Wanda was coming for her like a runaway train. However, the tide was about to change. Charlie grabbed a glass jar full of liquid from the kitchen cabinet and hastily opened it. When Wanda came near her to stomp her out, the clear liquid, which looked like water, was swiftly tossed into Wanda’s face. Wanda immediately screamed and grabbed her face and fell to her knees. She was in unbearable pain. What looked like water inside the glass jar was in fact industrial grade acid. Charlie had bought the chemical weapon for Chanel, but any enemy would do.
Wanda continued to clutch at her face, feeling her skin melting away. Charlie’s chest heaved up and down, and she gazed down at Wanda coldheartedly.
“What now, bitch! I told you don’t fuck wit’ me.”
As she watched Wanda thrash around on the kitchen floor, hollering and screaming out in excruciating pain, the front door opened and Claire walked into the horror. She was shocked to see Wanda’s face melting away.
“Ohmygod, what the fuck, Charlie! What happened to her!” Claire shrieked.
“Fuck that bitch,” Charlie growled.
The screams coming from Wanda were so piercing that they echoed from the kitchen and into the hallway. Wanda was now running through the apartment crashing into furniture and the walls, not able to see. She was frantic and panicking. She was able to reach the kitchen sink and desperately tried to wash away the acid from her face, trying to save what was left of her beauty, but it was too late.
Claire tried to help too, but the damage was already done.
The screams coming from the apartment alerted her neighbors and they called the cops. Charlie was arrested and Wanda was rushed away in an ambulance to the nearest hospital with her face looking like melting wax. She was still in agonizing pain and the paramedics tried their best to soothe her. They had seen a lot of gruesome things, but in their eyes, this was a full-scale horror show.
Two uniformed cops escorted a handcuffed Charlie into the Brooklyn 77th precinct. Charlie didn’t look worried at all. She remained cool and kept her mouth shut. In fact, she smirked at the cops as they arrested her and brought her into the building to be placed into a holding cell. Ahbou was shocked to see Charlie in handcuffs and being dragged into the precinct. The two briefly locked eyes but pretended that they didn’t know each other, and when Charlie was out of his sight, Ahbou quickly went into action. He removed himself from the busy area inside the precinct and made an urgent phone call to Mona.
“Hey, it’s me. They just arrested Charlie for something. I don’t know what, but you need to get down here immediately,” he said to her.
“I’m on my way,” Mona replied.
Mona and Ahbou worked feverishly on Charlie’s charges and her case. They were dumbfounded that she would do something as stupid as tossing acid in a friend’s face during a fight. They had a lot to lose, and Charlie’s reckless actions were costing them time and money. The two dirty cops were able to snag the case, and within hours of her arrest, she was released.
No charges.
But that didn’t mean that Charlie was out of hot water yet. She was still on the stove. Mona and Ahbou needed to do some persuasion and coercing of the victim. They went to pay Wanda a visit at the hospital.
“Charlie Brown has been released,” Mona told her.
Wanda became perplexed by the news—angry too. “Do you see my fuckin’ face?! That bitch is a fuckin’ maniac!”
Calmly, but assertively, they explained that they had two witnesses who gave statements saying Wanda had brought the acid to Charlie’s apartment once she found out that Charlie had sex with her boyfriend. The statement continued to say she had somehow tripped and the acid fell over on her.
Wanda was stunned by the bullshit statement. “What? Are y’all fuckin’ serious? Look at me, do it looked like I did this to myself by accident?”
Mona coolly asked her, “Did Charlie and your boyfriend have sex?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did y’all have an argument over it?”
Wanda hesitated and reluctantly replied, “Yes . . .”
She observed them taking down notes. She was unaware that the detectives were connected to Charlie—that they were business partners in the drug trade. However, it was obvious that they were taking Charlie’s side for some reason and were turning things around on her, making it appear as if Charlie was the victim to a horrendous crime.
When it became clear to Wanda that Charlie wasn’t going to be prosecuted and pay for what she did to her, she flipped out. She started screaming and crying hysterically for the detectives to see. The nurses had to rush into her room to calm her down by sedating her.
Before leaving the room, Mona told Wanda that they had dusted the glass jar for fingerprints and found none belonging to Charlie. She also mentioned Wanda’s long rap sheet.
As Wanda was calming down from the sedative and was gradually drifting off to sleep, she couldn’t understand why any of this was happening to her. It was a bewildering situation that made Wanda want to commit suicide—because she looked hideous and Charlie was going to go on with her life without any consequences.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The lights in the auditorium were dimmed and the audience was quietly engrossed in what was happening on the stage. They were watching a Columbia University student performance of Aida. Once a popular Broadway musical, this rendition of the play was being shown in two acts. Among the audience in the packed house were Mecca and Chanel. They were immersed in the play, mesmerized by the phenomenal singing and acting.