by Noire
“Man, ain’t this some shit. I remember when you used to play stickball on Lenox Avenue with holes in your pants. Muhfuckah walking around here cleaner than Clorox now.” ill hugged his old friend and grinned. “Dre, man, don’t be blowing my shit up in public, aiight?”
Dre laughed. “Welcome home, baby. Good to have you back on the set. Reem said the new album is hot. Y’all niggahs must be living right.”
“Yeah,” ill Nino shrugged. “Life is good, but CD sales ain’t. But you already know that, Dre. When you gone stop pressing that pirated shit in them bunkers out back, man? Cats like you be cutting in on an artist’s income. Between shit either getting leaked or downloaded on the Internet, and press shops frontin’ as record shops like the one you runnin’, ain’t no real money in CDs no more. Me and Reem getting geared up to head back out on the road again. That’s the only way to make some decent doe. Performing. We might take a new jack out with us this time. We’ll see how that shit goes.”
Dre laughed. He let ill’s slick-ass remark slide by. He didn’t give a fuck about all that bitchin’ about pressing CDs. When there was money to be made, a businessman was gonna make it. “So what the fuck are you? Some kinda Puerto Rican Santa Claus? You taking unsigned artists on the road, huh? You into charity work now?” ill Nino shrugged. “Come on, Dre, you know me. I came up spittin’ on these Harlem streets. Most of that shit they got rotating on the radio these days is garbage, man. The real talent comes off the streets. Outta the projects and off the tiers. That’s the kinda music we looking for, man.”
“Well I feel you, baby. A lot of these rappers that come in here could break out in a major way if they wasn’t so busy slanging and bangin’ and acting like a bunch of fooligans. The talent? They got that. The sense? Them niggahs is real short on that.” ill grinned and clapped Dre on the shoulder. “See? Ain’t you glad you taught me better? All them times you had to knock me on my ass for doing wrong? I guess it worked.”
“Man,” Dre said, “I’m glad you got your shit straight, ’cause you were even worse than some of these fools are today…robbing old ladies and shit…” ill laughed.
“Stealing candy from little babies…” Dre threw his arm around ill’s shoulder. “C’mon over here,” he said, leading ill and his crew toward a table in the VIP section. “The first round is on me. Name ya poison.” ill shrugged. “My baby likes Krug.”
Dre eyed the fine-ass sistah holding on to ill Nino’s arm and grinned. She had a fat little camel toe between her legs and he could tell that pussy was nice and juicy.
“Fine,” he said, staring at her crotch. “Then Krug it is.”
The night was sizzling. Reem Raw had taken the stage. A crowd of chicks were hanging off his dick as he performed a hot banga called “Twist Is.”
Fiyah moved with the beat as Reem ripped the mic with his metaphorical flow.
Shawty c’mere lemme feel how them lips is…
The way them hips shift, I can tell you gifted…
You know who the click is
You know how we get biz,
And I can put it down, whatevah ya twist is!
By the time Reem finished banging up the track the dance floor was rocking and the crowd was amped. Fiyah grinned as his manz jumped off the stage. Reem got mad props as both the chicks and the ballers made a path for him. Fiyah was so preoccupied digging Reem that he almost slept on the posse that was coming through the door.
“Oh shit,” he muttered. He bumped a skinny girl outta his way and slid through the crowd toward Reem real quick. He tapped Reem’s arm just as he got near the bar.
“’Sup, money.”
Reem grinned and gave Fiyah a dap then a hug.
“Fiyahhhh…my niggah! What it do, baby?”
Glancing around nervously, Fiyah leaned in close.
“Yo, man. Lemme holla at you real quick.” He glanced toward a side door. “Can we slide outta here that way?”
Moments later they were standing on the street behind Bricks.
“Yo, what’s in them little things over there?” Fiyah asked, pointing across the street to what looked like garages encased in concrete.
“Them shits is bunkers,” Reem answered. “That’s Brody’s property. They press all them bogus DVDs and shit back there. Ain’t no guessing what else them fools be doing in there. Probably growing that crazy niggah a demented twin in a fuckin’ pickle jar.”
Fiyah shook his head. “I sure hope not. Let’s walk,” he urged, and led Reem around toward the front of the club. Fiyah stopped as they got to the corner. He peeped around, then leaned against the building in a way that allowed him to see the front door.
“Yo, man,” Reem said shaking his head. “Welcome home, man! But you off the tiers now. You ain’t gotta pull guard no more.”
Fiyah grinned and played it off. “I’m cool, man. It’s all good.”
“If it’s so fuckin’ good why you holdin’ a set out here on the street?”
“Sorry, man,” Fiyah said. “But I’m on the clock, ya feel me? I gotta beat my PO to the crib or he’s gonna violate my ass.” He shrugged. “I’m tryna wait around for my cousin, though…”
“Who, Eva?”
“Yeah. She’s supposed to be rollin’ through.”
Reem shook his head. “You got your nights wrong, homey. Eva’s into the Saturday night set these days. She’s rolling hard with a rapper they call—”
“Ramel.”
“Ramel? Oh, you mean Ice Mello? Yeah. That niggah is live. He brings it hard on the rap beats the way you was bringing it with reggaeton right before you took that ride.”
“Him and Eva into some shit, huh?”
Reem held his hands up, backing him off. “Don’t talk that shit to me, man. I don’t keep tabs on nobody’s swerve.”
“Yo, man,” Fiyah asked, craning his neck to see around the corner. “That cat Brody. Did he just go inside?”
Reem laughed. “Niggah that’s his one-of-a-kind whip parked right there on the curb! Ain’t another one like it in Harlem. What the fuck is up with you, Fiyah?”
“I’m straight, man. Just tryna get back into this shit, ya feel me?”
Reem gave him the crazy look. “Then get ya ass back in it, man. You know how we do this shit. Get ya ass inside and spit some fire on that mic.”
Fiyah followed Reem back into Bricks with his gut clenched tight. Eva was a fuckin’ ghost and Brody was about to become a real big problem. There was a lot he could lose, fuckin’ around in Bricks tonight. But a lot he could gain too. Fiyah knew his future was riding on him making a good impression. ill Nino was on the set and he was checking for fresh talent. Fiyah knew he had the mic skills to blow every reggaeton rapper in Harlem outta the box, and he couldn’t wait until next week’s competition. Not even a cutthroat like Brody could make him pass up what might be his best opportunity to shine.
“Check it,” Reem said over his shoulder. “Go wait for me in the VIP section. And don’t say I never gave you nothing. I wanna give ill a little heads up on what you can do. You know, a preview, so your shit is fresh in his mind next week when all the rest of them cats show up. ill is taking care of some business with Daddy Dre right now, but I’ll pull ya coat when he’s paying attention. Believe. Before the end of the night you gone be face-to-face with a cat who can elevate your shit in front of the entire world.”
Fiyah made his way over to the VIP section. It was packed out with major power players from the professional sports world and some of the most recognized music artists in the country. The smell of chocolate dutchies was in the air. De-canters of cranberry juice and cans of Red Bull littered the tables.
Brody was sitting in the middle of the mix gripping an icy Corona in his hand. Waitresses hung around him ready to jump when he snapped. Niggahs was hard on his dick. Everybody in the joint knew he was a willie and a shot caller. His stark-white wife beater was tight over his huge shoulders, and his upper arm muscles bulged bigger than most men’s thighs.
He look
ed up and spotted Fiyah, and his eyes locked in on him hard. Brody stood up and opened his arms up wide. He cracked a huge smile like Fiyah was his long lost manz from way back.
“Fiyah. The cat who stanks up the muhfuckin’ mic!”
Brody reached for a dap. He fisted Fiyah so hard his wrist went numb.
“What up, boss,” Fiyah said. He dapped out the rest of Brody’s crew, including that man-ass Rolo, then stuck his sore hand in his pocket.
“Ya late again, niggah,” Brody said, still grinning. “That’s twice you done kept me waiting in one goddamn day.”
Fiyah shrugged and tried to joke it off. “These fuckin’ chicks, man. You know…”
Brody stared. “Nah, I don’t know. What about ’em?”
“It’s Eva. A closet full of designer shit and she still don’t know what to wear. I had to bounce on her, man.”
Brody’s eyes narrowed. He stared at Fiyah deep, like he knew he was lying.
“But she’s still coming out to ball with me, right money?”
“Oh hell yeah,” Fiyah assured. “She’ll be here, man.”
“Cool.” Brody nodded to a waitress. “Yo, bitch. Bring my manz here a drink. We ’bout to welcome this niggah home right.”
Fiyah sat between Bullet and Rolo as he balled with Brody and his crew. Champagne tops were popped and the bubbly stuff flowed. Rolo had a pretty Latina grinding on her lap, and a thick-legged honey with little titties and a wide ass started dancing in front of Fiyah. She used her pretty legs to bump his knees apart so she could get closer to him. His sexual energy was intense, and even though his dick had already been sucked and fucked sore by Charlene and Nakisha earlier, Fiyah still felt like he had ten years worth of cum backed up in his nuts.
He grabbed her slim waist as she shook that thing at him. She laughed and put one leg up on the seat, and humped her ass in a million directions. Fiyah slid his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. Her butt was damp and sweaty and it jiggled in his palm. He found her pussy and rubbed it until his hand got slippery. The girl took it up a notch. She straddled him with her knees, then leaned forward and licked his ear.
“You can grind against it, but you can’t touch it,” she whispered. “Not unless you down to tear me off something in a back room.”
Fiyah shrugged. As bad as he wanted to fuck her, walking away from Brody was outta the question. Besides, he probably wouldn’t be able to cum anyway. He thrust his finger deep into her pussy and she yelped softly in his ear.
“Maybe later, baby,” he said, pushing her gently off his lap. His dick was on rock like a muhfuckah, but before he could sweat it Eva showed up.
Fiyah’s dick wilted with relief at the sight of his cousin.
Brody could back the fuck up offa his shit now.
Eva strutted toward them looking like a sweet black number-one stunna. She was wearing a pair of white Birthday Cake shorts and some kind of white top that showed off her toned brown stomach. Ice glinted and dangled from her pierced navel and her hips were knockin’ niggahs out as she swayed across the room.
Fiyah grinned. Eva had really grown up. None of the grimy shit she had been through in her life was written on her. Her shit was polished and fresh. She carried herself with confidence and grace. Like she had come from the Nile and had been crowned its urban goddess.
“Goddamn,” Brody said, standing up. His voice was thick as shit. He cupped his dick as he watched Eva move. “Next time a shawty like her needs time to get ready…you just give it to her goddammit.”
Every niggah in the crew had his eye on Eva. Brody’s girls were watching her too. Eva shined and flossed as her long mane of curly hair flowed behind her.
She spotted Fiyah and strutted over to their table. Before she could reach her cousin, Brody stepped forward and offered her his hand.
Eva paused. Her beautiful eyes swept Brody up and down, then she smirked and put out her hand like she really didn’t want to.
Brody grinned and raised her hand up to his lips. He made like he was gonna kiss it, but stuck out his fat tongue and licked all between her fingers instead.
“Damn!” Eva cursed. She pulled her hand away and wiped it furiously on her shorts. “What the hell was that about?”
Brody laughed. “It was about you. How you doing, baby girl?”
She nodded. “Brody.”
The boss capo couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You glossed up and shining real nice, baby. Straight shining. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Nah, that’s all right. I’m good.”
“Oh, I can see that. But c’mon. It’s Fiyah’s night tonight. Your cousin is celebrating. Have a little taste with us just for him, okay?”
Brody snapped his finger once and a VIP waitress scurried over with some champagne.
Eva accepted the glass with a shrug. “Cool. Since that’s the only reason I came.”
Brody raised his eyebrow. “Is that right? Fuck. I been wait-ing all night ’cause I thought you was coming out to get with me.”
Eva gave him a crazy look. “Well you thought wrong.”
Brody laughed, but Bullet and Rolo never changed their expressions. Fiyah swallowed real hard. His dick was all the way soft now and a hint of fear was on his face.
Brody spoke to Fiyah over his shoulder, although his eyes never left Eva’s face. “Mami fine as hell, man. But she’s wild. Untrained. But it’s cool. That’s how I like ’em. There’s something hot as fuck about holding ’em down and breaking ’em in…”
Eva smirked. This gigantic mothafucka wasn’t nothing but a bitch beater. She despised niggahs like him, and these days instead of scaring her, cats like him pissed her the fuck off. She took a closer look at the girls who were sitting with Brody’s crew. Them chicks were high as hell. Duji’d down. They sat plastered up against the wall like they was waiting for instructions. Every one of them was pretty and was slinging mad jewels from their ears, necks, and fingers. They had nice bodies too. High titties and long legs. But these chicks were tore the fuck down inside. Eva could tell.
She nodded toward Serena, then looked up at Brody with big eyes. “Like you broke her in?” Even in all her fly gear and expensive jewels, the young Latina girl looked like shit. She had a big nasty blister on her chest and was struggling to sit up straight while holding her hand against the side of her head.
Brody shrugged. “That ho is yesterday. You tonight. Come dance with me.”
“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll pass.”
“Bitch,” Brody growled. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it hard. “Who the fuck is askin’ you? I’m telling your ass—”
“Hey yo!!” Reem stormed into the VIP section making noise with ill Nino and his entourage right behind him. “Muhfuckin’ Fiyah!” He brushed past Eva, winking at her on the sly tip. “My niggah!” he said loudly, frontin’ like he hadn’t just been outside chillin’ with Fiyah earlier. “Man, what the fuck it do?”
Reem dapped Fiyah and turned to ill Nino.
“Yo, ill. This the cat I was telling you about. He just got off The Rock but his shit is official, man. That’s real.”
Eva was forgotten and all eyes were on ill Nino, including Brody’s. Eva sighed. Reem was her boy and always had been. He had diverted the attention away from her giving her a chance to slide outta Brody’s grip.
“Yo,” Reem said to Fiyah. “Niggah stand up and meet the great ill Nino!”
Fiyah couldn’t tell what the fuck was running through him harder. Fear of Brody or awe because of ill Nino. He stood up feeling like a starstruck little bitch.
“’Sup, man,” he said, trying to sound stable.
They dapped and ill Nino nodded. “What’s good? Reem said you got a pretty decent flow game.”
“Yeah,” Fiyah boasted. “I’m nice wit’ it.”
“Yo,” Reem said, “I hope you was busy scribbling while you was pressing that bunk, ak ’cause you bout to do it next week, aiight? We gone be assessing cats for a minute and whoever comes out on top is gone
get a chance to jump on tour with me and ill, man. Maybe even get a contract. So be ready to get up there and give up ya best shit. Leave it all over the mic. Ya feel me?”
“I feel you, man.”
“Cool,” Reem said, turning to leave. Eva had dipped, so he could get back to the DJ booth. “Then that’s what’s up. I talked you up real large, muhfuckah, so don’t make me look bad. You best bring that shit right.”
“I got this, baby. I’m ready.” ill Nino dapped Fiyah again on the way past. “Welcome back to the world.”
He looked at Brody. “Be good, man. Hit me up the next time you in Miami.”
Searching the crowd for Eva, Brody nodded, looking like a killer. “I’ll holla.”
Reem dipped through the crowd, his eyes on alert. He’d seen what was going down with Brody from the DJ booth, and had decided to go check for Eva. He knew Brody wasn’t one to be fucked with, so he had to play it proper. Reem had seen firsthand what Brody could put on a bitch. Eva was from Brooklyn and she knew the streets, but she had been through so fuckin’ much when they were shorties back in Brooklyn that he hated to see her getting close to a ruthless renegade like Brody.
Reem had been dominating the club set for years and he’d seen all kinds of corruption. But Bricks wasn’t no ordinary club, and Brody wasn’t no ordinary niggah. While ballers with big bank clamored to get in the doors each weekend, the underbelly of Bricks could be cruel and gutter, and Brody was commanding niggahs from the helm, calling big shots. Drugs, porn, pimping, murdering…Brody and his crew ran rampant with all that. Bricks, and the CD/DVD-pressing record shop where hundreds of artists got dicked outta their rightful royalties mighta belonged to Daddy Dre on paper, but everybody in Harlem knew who was really running shit. What Reem couldn’t figure out was why a chick like Eva would be rubbing up against a monster like Brody.