After he finished preparing the ticket, the officer handed Gee the citation. “Slow down. . . .”
In an agreeable tone unlike him, Gee looked straight ahead and replied, “Will do, Officer. Thank you.”
As Gee rolled up the window and the officer walked away, I felt my entire body exhale. This was it. I had to get home. Forget New York. For the Apollo. Forget Raq. Forget—
“Yo . . .” Piper said, “Y’all all cool?”
Raq answered yes. I didn’t say a word.
Piper looked at me. “Glitz? You a’ight?”
I was So. Not. Okay. “Sure,” I said with a wimpy smile.
“Yo . . . Always gonna be something out there tryna taint a blessing. Always something gonna try and distract you, you know? When you’re trying to do your thing ... When it’s somewhere you’re trying to go, something you’re trying to do in life . . . Focused. Gotta stay determined. Can’t take your eyes off the goal.”
Piper was right. I’d come so far and I at least wanted to be able to say I made it to New York. I at least wanted to have a glimpse of the Empire State Building. Just a little longer, and Glitz would be over. But while she was still here, I was determined to sit back and enjoy the ride.
“Yo . . .” Piper was sitting across from Sienna Jax, a stylish young deejay dressed like a classy diva in a body-hugging sweater dress and with diamond studs in her ears.
“Thank you so much for being here with us, Piper,” Sienna said.
Piper smiled at her. “It’s my pleasure. Piper always listens to my girl Sienna Jax when I’m in Philly.” He spun one of the keys on his keychain around and around. It was the first time I’d ever seen him fidget.
Me, Raq, and Gee stood off to the side watching the interview.
“You rap so much about pain,” she said. “Why is that, Piper? ”
“Pain?” he said. “I rap about life. You gotta understand, Ms. Sienna, life is like drivin’ a Porsche in an ice storm, in below-zero temperatures. I’m lovin’ it. Feels so good pushing something so fly, but that don’t stop all the worrying, the fact that all around me people are crashing and I can’t drive as free as I want ’cause there’s so much that can eff up my ride. . . .”
Sienna raised her eyebrows, “Careful, brotha . . .”
“My apologies.” Piper smiled. “But really . . . It’s like constantly we wonder, what’s up ahead? Is the road too slick? Is this ride gonna kill me? Will I get hurt? Hurt again, even.”
Piper pressed his lips to the microphone and I noticed the way he held it, between two fingers and his thumb. And then he added, “I just come from the heart. And sometimes, yes, sometimes that means pain.”
“I hear you.” Sienna nodded. “So it’s kinda a big deal, no? You signing on to open up for Millionaire Mal on the tour next week? How’s it feel to replace Sike-it?”
“Yo . . . I got mad respect for Sike-it, you know? And it’s too bad it didn’t work out for him, you know? But me and Sike—none of us—we wouldn’t even be in this game if Mal didn’t pave through for us. Me and my homie, Sir Gee? We just gon’ be happy to be there.”
“Well,” she said, “welcome to Philly. You know this is Mal’s hometown, right?”
“Yo . . . that’d be like not knowing Michael Jackson was from Gary, ya dig.”
We all laughed.
Piper put his fist in the air, paused for a moment of silence and then said, “Yo . . . Peace to Mike.”
“Always,” Sienna Jax agreed. “Now, you’re in town tonight for Mal’s party tonight, right?”
“For sure. Just passin’ through before the big show tomorrow night in New York. Had to come and holler at my Philly fam—”
“All of Philly is headed to New York, tomorrow.” She laughed. “The big tribute to Jam-Master Jay, right? The Apollo.”
“Oh, for sure,” Piper said. “Yo ... If there was never no Run-DMC there would be no Piper MC, ya dig?”
I glanced out the window at the rooftop across from us, at all the graffiti on sides of buildings, the wires on rooftops. I was all the way in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and I was in a radio station with Piper MC. Yeah, I was still irked at Raq for spending last night with him, but let’s keep it real, I’d never had much of a chance anyway. And I didn’t know what to make of her stolen credit cards and stolen money, but at least Raq had gotten me here, to this moment in my life. And that was worth a lot. I reached out and squeezed her hand, and she squeezed mine back.
“Some people consider Mal’s music more for the party scene these days,” Sienna said. “How will you fit in with that vibe?”
“Yo . . . Let me say this . . . Here’s what I say . . .”
“And what’s that?” Sienna tilted her head and offered a playful smile. “What does Piper think?”
“Yo . . . People say I rap about pain. But there’s more if you wanna hear it and listen. . . .” He turned and looked at me. And then he turned back to the microphone.
Sienna nodded. “Right, right . . .”
“Yo . . . Um, music . . .” Piper laughed. He went in close to the microphone again, then he played with his keys some more. “For real. I got a treat for y’all coming up real soon. There’s always another side to Piper.”
Sienna said, “What side is that?”
“Yo . . .” he said, taking time to find the words as he so artfully does, “I got this joint called ‘Liar, Liar’ that’s just so dope. Ladies, y’all out there watchin’ these movies, reading these books, thinkin’ love is gonna happen so uneventfully. When in fact, it’s really the opposite. Love is full with tests. I’m a man, I’m tellin’ you. . . . You gotta be willin’ to accept something with us. Without cooperation from your mind first, your heart will simply be broken. ‘Liar, Liar’—”
Sienna glanced back down at her notes. “That’s the upcoming joint with Buckstarr, the chick from the reality show, right? ”
“Yo”—he got close to the microphone again—“Buckstarr is on the track, yes. Her and both of her friends, Boom-boom and Vroom-vroom.”
Sienna laughed.
Raq rolled her eyes and then twisted her lips.
“Piper MC,” Sienna said, “while you’re throwin’ all this caution to the ladies . . . For all of ’em listenin’, you single?”
“Very,” Piper said.
“Well, all right,” Sienna said, wrapping up the interview. “Any final words? ”
“Yo,” Piper said, “life is good. I’m backed by the soon-to-be most influential man in the industry—shot out to Mun—and I got my homie Sir Gee riding shotgun. Papers stackin’. Got my mind right.” He shifted in his seat and side-eyed Raq. “Got my hoes . . .”
Sienna’s smile faded. And so did Raq’s.
Gee just looked out the window, as if trying not to hear.
I tried to swallow that awkward moment as if it hadn’t even happened.
But it had.
“All right, Piper,” Sienna said, her voice unaffected but her face definitely a little tense. “Anybody else you wanna get a shout-out to before we let you go get ready for the party tonight? ”
“Big up to the Motor, mad love to Philly.”
“What do you have to say to those still debating on coming out to Mal’s party tonight?”
“I. Will. Be. There.” Piper enunciated every word. “And I want to meet all of Philly’s finest.”
Raq and I darted a look at each other. Without saying it, I could tell that we were both wondering the same thing. Were we going, too?
“And yo . . .” Piper leaned in close to the microphone again. “Shout out to Cyn 21. Mad respect. Get better soon, homie.”
Sienna signed off, Piper autographed the station’s banner in the lobby, and we left the station. Despite what he had said about being single, and about his so-called hoes, Raq still slipped her hand in Piper’s as we walked.
Gee walked behind Piper and next to me but put his hands in his pockets. “Good interview, Pipe,” he said.
Piper put his free fist
to the air, “Appreciate that,” he said, exchanging dap with Gee.
“But, um,” Raq said, “so who are your hoes?”
Piper laughed. “Relax, girl. Y’all know I didn’t mean that. First rule in this game, no matter what kinda message you tryna bring? Gotta throw a cuss word, a ho or a bitch line in there, too. Got the intellectuals, yeah, but you got so many more average cats out there than anything. Gotta make sure they hear me, too. Feel me?”
“Whatever, dude,” was Raq’s quick reply, which made Piper and Gee both laugh.
“So about that party tonight?” Raq asked. “Me and Glitz are coming, too, right?”
Piper nudged Gee. “Yo . . . shorty’s feisty, huh? Picture me telling her no.”
Gee laughed. “Yeah. Picture that. . . .”
And it was clear to me then that we all knew; what Raq wanted, Raq got.
16
The party that night was at Club Mocha, a trendy two-story club in downtown Philly. THE OFFICIAL HIP IN HIP-HOP, the marquee read. I wore one of the dresses that Raq had bought me, the turquoise one that shimmered when I walked. Hers was hot pink satin and off the shoulder. We ushered in the night with Piper and Gee on velvet couches in the upstairs VIP lounge.
The closest I’d ever come to being inside a club was Jewel’s basement at her sixteenth birthday party. Her parents had it decorated it for its theme, “Mardi Gras in August,” and there were strobe lights and even a disco ball in the center of the room. We had sparkling punch, a deejay (actually just Jewel’s cousin Bob), and plenty of dancing. But it was nothing like this!
The VIP lounge had a view of the rest of the club; the four of us were overlooking the crowd of club-dressed hip-hop heads. The music was on point and the scene was bananas. Wall to wall people feeling fine and looking good. In comparison to the VFW, this crowd was a bit older. There was plenty of dancing, of course, but no ripples of screams and not a lot of laughter. If hip-hop was religion to us, it was just mildly serious to these people, or at least that’s how they wanted to appear. Too cool to be crunk. Piper popped a bottle of champagne. Raq laughed when he did, though the sound was so loud it scared me at first.
“Cheers.” Raq was raising a glass after Piper had filled it.
Piper filled mine, too, and I raised it. “Cheers back atcha,” I said.
The bubbly tasted like bitter ginger ale as it forced heat into my chest. I couldn’t help but scowl, but I played it off by grooving to the music. A moment later everything inside of me felt smooth again. Maybe even a tad smoother.
A bunch of groupies were at the rope adjacent to our area, patiently awaiting Millionaire Mal’s arrival, and a couple of them even looking desperate for Piper’s attention. Raq was sitting next to him on the couch, her palm resting on his back as he poured more champagne into her glass.
He put his glass in the air. “Yo . . . To hip-hop . . .”
We all clinked glasses and sipped some more, the taste more pleasing in my chest this time.
Gee reached over and poured more into my glass.
I sat down next to him, hoping he wasn’t still sore at me. But even if he was, I knew I had done the right thing last night. No way was I giving up my virginity for Raq’s left-over guy.
A song came on, a definite down-South party hopper, and Raq got up to dance. Right in front of Piper—not caring if he got up, too—she kicked it for him. And so he stayed sitting, visibly loving every moment of seeing Raq’s body gyrate.
Raq turned back to me and yelled, “Must really suck not being us, right, chica?”
I raised my glass again. “Hear, hear . . .” Then I downed what was left.
Gee closed his eyes and started rubbing his temples.
“Hey.” I nudged him. “You all right?” I couldn’t help but wonder if he was tired, had a headache, or just couldn’t stand seeing Raq all over Piper when he had tried to get her first.
Gee’s eyes popped open and he nodded. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said, pouring more champagne into his own glass this time.
I sipped and he immediately poured more in my glass.
He put his hand on my thigh. I felt my neck tighten, and then my stomach.
High-pitched screams filled the room and I jumped free from Gee’s touch. We all scrambled to look down at the crowd. Millionaire Mal had arrived on the scene!
Dressed in his signature suit with bright-green dollar signs, Mal was throwing out money as he and his entourage pushed through the crowd. People were diving for paper, snatching ends from one another, just going crazy. Funny. Now they were crunk.
Look at him, I thought to myself. Just making it rain. . . .
Gee let out a chuckle, “That man is a fool,” he said, his voice extra firm as he reached for my hand.
I let him hold it, but became obsessed with ideas on how to pull it back. I could pretend I needed something from my purse. I could pretend I had to scratch my back. . . .
A hush. More stillness. And then I followed Gee’s gaze.
From the corner of his eye, he was watching Raq. . .
... who was kissing on Piper, who was watching Mal’s entrance.
I let my hand fall down into my own lap, took another sip from my glass, and kept watching the crowd. That was easy.
But still, a moment later, I felt Gee’s mouth on the side of my neck, and I tensed.
He offered a deep whisper, “This area is about to get real tight and crowded. Let’s go out to the truck. . . .”
When I didn’t answer, he eventually settled on watching the crowd over the ledge.
I downed what was left in my glass.
A security guy popped his head into the lounge and called out, “Piper . . . you down? Photos with Mal?”
Piper pulled himself from Raq’s embrace and security ushered him and Gee off to snap photos with Millionaire Mal.
Now it was just me and Raq up in VIP.
And my glass was empty.
Great.
“Cool party,” she said.
“It’s definitely what’s up,” I replied.
She stood up to get a better look over the railing, running her fingers across the gold bar. “Look at all these people, chica . . . All here to get a glimpse of Piper. . . .”
“I know,” I said.
“Look at ’em. Street CEOs. Straight ballers representin’. If we didn’t have these fools with us, we could probably go snatch us one.” She turned to me and laughed.
I forced a chuckle. Was Raq saying she didn’t even really like Piper?
“I don’t know,” I said. “Why snatch one of them when you have Piper?”
She rolled her eyes but she didn’t answer. “Saw you over there with Gee. You caught up?”
“Gee?” I shot back. “I don’t think so. He’s cool and everything, but . . .”
Raq dismissed it all with a hand wave. “So forget Gee, then. Who you got?”
I spotted a guy with a shaved head wearing an expensive-looking suit. “Him,” I playfully decided.
“All right,” she said. “He’s too stiff for me. You can have him. . . .”
Laughing, I looked around some more.
“Him.” I nodded at a guy who’d just walked through the door. He was tall, real tall, and nice-guy cute.
“Ooh, chica,” she said, “now, he looks like a superstar. Go girl....” She raised her glass in the air and waited for me to toast.
“What are we toasting to?” I yelled over the new music as a louder club song kicked in, something I hadn’t heard before.
Raq scrunched up her face and got into the beat of the hype song. “Yo, that’s tight,” she said, sounding a little like Piper when she did. “To the clubs bangin’ it in Philly.”
We clinked and sipped. This is what I’d been missing. Me and Raq. Like the good times. When I trusted her.
Finally, I got the nerve and asked her, “So what’s really up with you and Piper?”
She actually looked happy that I’d inquired. “Chica,” she leaned in and whispere
d, “let you in on a little secret, all right? ”
I braced my heart and put my ear in closer to listen. “Okay . . .”
“I’ve had better,” she said.
Confused, I replied, “Better what?”
She nudged me. “Chica . . .”
“What?” I was totally confused.
“Put it like this”—she looked around to make sure they hadn’t come up behind us, took a sip, and said—“even my first time was better. And you know how horrible that is.” She cracked up.
My heart tanked.
Her first time?
She’d told me that she was a virgin, just like I was.
My smile completely fading, I said, “No, Raq. I don’t know.”
“Mira, back in the day when—” She caught herself.
I rolled my eyes and looked away. She’d lied to everyone in the world. I don’t know why I ever thought she’d be honest with me. I went over and sat down on the couch, watching as Raq just stood there moving to the music, acting like she hadn’t just gotten busted in one of the first lies she’d ever told her so-called best friend. I had honestly believed that this was something she and I had in common. What hadn’t she lied about?
Piper and Gee came back to the VIP lounge a little while later with a tall guy with sunkissed chestnut skin and a wavy ponytail. They introduced him as the photographer who’d been taking pictures of them with Mal. Now Piper, Gee, and the photographer were over by the ledge, talking with Raq, nodding and laughing, having a good old time.
Whatever. Let ’em talk.
Later, when we all passed through the crowd to leave the club, I remember stopping and picking up a crisp hundred-dollar bill that someone had apparently missed. I couldn’t believe my luck. But it made me laugh out loud, like real loud and hearty, when I saw Millionaire Mal’s face where Ben Franklin’s should’ve been. I flashed it in front of Piper’s face and he immediately twisted his mouth.
“Yo ... now that’s just corny,” he said.
So is being a liar, I thought to myself as I glanced over at Raq.
Even worse, though, is being a friend to one.
We were headed to a private house party in West Oak Lane, or WOL, as Gee said the locals called it: a tree-lined neighborhood in North Philly where the houses were all the same style—two stories with well-manicured lawns—but occasionally different in color. Mostly, they were brick and white, though. This was where the photographer lived.
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