My Baby Is a West Coast King 2

by Shvonne Latrice

  Pulling out my phone, I went into my text messages because I hadn’t talked to Cassie all day, and it felt weird not to.

  Me: Goodnight witcho fine ass.

  Cassie: Oh now you text me? Goodnight nigga.

  Me: You know daddy loves you. I hope you ain’t got shit to do tomorrow morning. I wanna take you and Mel to breakfast at this bomb ass spot.

  Cassie: I will think about it.

  I hated when she acted like she ain’t wanna have my my baby already. Cassie was killing ya boy.

  Mischief

  Three days later…

  Me: So you’re still not fucking with me?

  Wifey: Nope.

  Me: Come through tonight or in the morning so I can talk to you.

  Wifey: Ask that bitch from the strip club to come through.

  Sighing, I massaged my eyes before slipping my phone into my pocket. Laine hadn’t budged, and even though I loved her ass and wanted to be with her, I was getting tired of this shit. I’d apologized so many muthafucking times I’d lost count; sent more flower arrangements than my budget allowed, and she was still singing the same fucking song. I ain’t know what to do, and truthfully, I was over it. If she’d really made her up her mean ass mind about us and wanted to move on, I just might let her.

  I don’t want a relationship anyways. Never wanted one, but I got in it because I wanted her ass and I knew it was the only way she would stick with me. But fuck that shit. I had other things to be worried about, and right now I couldn’t be focused on chasing a woman who didn’t want to be caught.

  Today I was at the Static Records headquarters on Hollywood and Vine, checking out their pristine ass studio. I preferred recording in my own space, but because they were paying me to work with some of their artists, I wasn’t gonna complain. Shit was nice as hell, and they promised only one other producer would have access, and it’d be rarely. That was my one stipulation: to not have a million niggas using this room. I couldn’t wait to have some shit like this in my own spot.

  “Sorry about that, Mischief,” the A&R, Teagan, walked into the room. He was a tall black guy with salt and pepper hair, who always wore fresh ass suits. Nigga reminded me of my pops but just shorter. Hopefully he had more sense though.

  “It’s cool,” I said, scanning the pretty ass girl he walked in the room with.

  “You know Aspen, right?”

  “Oh shit, my bad, you look a little different,” I laughed, reaching my hand out to her.

  “Why, because I have more clothes on?” She flashed me her pretty ass smile and shook my hand.

  “Shit, I ain’t gon’ lie, that could be it.” I wasn’t joking, but she and Teagan laughed. “But nice to meet you.”

  “Same. Teagan told me a lot about you. I’d heard of your brothers and the song you did with Skido, but I didn’t know it was the same person.”

  “She’s not from California,” Teagan interjected. I guess he was trying to make me feel better about her never having heard of me. I ain’t give a fuck though. This was no popularity contest; I just wanted my bread.

  Static had already paid me half the fee for three songs on Aspen’s album, just for my time. That way if she didn’t like what I made, I would still be compensated for the labor. That was usually how I did shit, and I was relieved that they worked the same way. There was no damn way I was about to put in hours of work for free, just for this bitch to change her mind. They’d definitely see the old version of Mischief from TTP, and nobody wanted that.

  “Trust me, every time I said I hadn’t heard of you, these Los Angeles natives would look at me like I had two heads,” she laughed.

  “It’s cool.” I shrugged and sat down.

  After staring down at me for a little bit, she looked at Teagan out the corner of her eye and said, “Give us a minute to get to know one another, T. You know I like to be damn near best friends with the producers working on my album.”

  “Oh sure, of course, Aspen.” Turning his attention to me as Aspen sat down in the empty swivel chair next to me, he said, “You can stay in here as long as you want. You have your keycard, right?”

  “I do,” I answered.

  “Great, let me know if you guys need anything.” He was staring at the screen of his cellphone, and started talking on it before he was out of the door all the way.

  “How old are you, Mischief? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I’m twenty-three. You?”

  “Dang, you’re young and making pretty big moves. I’m twenty-six.”

  “You’re young too. And ain’t you been out for like two years?”

  “Yeah, but I guess being over twenty-five just sounds so damn old to me,” she giggled.

  “Well it’s not, and you look good for your age. One day you’re gonna be wishing you were twenty-six. Remember this conversation when that happens.”

  “I won’t ever forget this conversation.” She stared seriously into my eyes.

  “If you want me to fuck you later, I probably can. But right now let’s talk about the music, aight?” I grinned and she covered her mouth, laughing.

  “Is it that obvious?” she chuckled.

  “Very. I don’t know what’s wetter right now, your pussy or your mouth from damn near drooling every time you look at me,” I smirked.

  “Oh my gosh, whatever,” she was still laughing.

  “While I was waiting on you and Teagan, I pretty much got familiar with the equipment so I’d be prepared when you came in.” I started working the computer so I could pull up the beats I’d created for her.

  I could feel her staring a fucking hole through me, but I wasn’t gonna complain since she was fine as fuck. However, all she would get from me was some dick because I didn’t want a girlfriend unless it was Laine. I also didn’t want anything even similar to a relationship. You know that stupid ass stage bitches try to trap you in where they act like every bit of yo’ bitch, and the only thing missing is the title. Yeah, I wasn’t with that shit either.

  I played about six beats for Aspen, and instead of just choosing three, she said she wanted all of them. That was something she’d have to discuss with Teagan though because he said three was the maximum, just to see how well the songs did. When we were done brainstorming and listening, it was about 10pm, and I was hungry and tired as hell.

  “Let’s go to Greystone,” Aspen suggested.

  “Right now? Nah. I’m tired as hell and—”

  “Please? We should celebrate all the magic we’re about to make. Not to mention, Greystone treats me really nicely.”

  “Aight, but just for a little bit because a nigga is tired as hell.” Only reason I agreed was because I could use a drink, and Greystone popped.

  “Yay!” she bit her lip, watching me as I rose to my feet. “You’re so tall, I love that.”

  Ignored that statement.

  After I shut everything off, we went down and outside to see her driver parked on Vine Street waiting for us. As soon as we got inside, she started trying to open a bottle of champagne, but I ended up having to do it. I think she was pretending to be a damsel in distress but like most shit, I didn’t give a fuck.

  “Shit is good,” I commented after taking a sip from the little ass flute.

  “I know, right. I only keep the best around,” she smiled and sipped some. “Tell me, do you still date that girl you posted a little while back on Instagram?”

  I thought she didn’t know me? Or had never heard of me?

  “I want to, but I don’t.”

  “Explain.” Her brows dipped in confusion.

  “Don’t need to explain. What I said was pretty self-explanatory. Not to mention I don’t know yo’ ass and I thought you didn’t know me.”

  Sighing, she responded, “Okay, fine. I didn’t know you, but I’d heard Teagan and Richard mention you a couple times while I was eavesdropping, so I looked you up on social media.”

  “And went through all my pictures.”

  “All? You only have si
xty-four photos, nigga,” she said and we both laughed.

  “And you memorized the number. Shit, I don’t even know how many photos I have, but you do. I made a hell of an impression on you that quickly, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she spoke lowly, eyes moving all over my face as if she couldn’t control them. “What does this mean?” She tried to throw up my hood with her hands. “I see you do it in some of your pictures with other people.”

  “It means some shit you don’t want no parts of.”

  “Oh…” she gulped some champagne. “I didn’t know you were this tall though. I figured you were in the sixes, but today I was like damn. And you’re not skinny; I love that. Usually, once a guy gets past six-feet-three, he’s all skin and bones.” I’d gotten a text message so I didn’t respond to her. “Rude ass, but I’m used to it already,” she added.

  Shrugging, I threw back the rest of the champagne since we were pulling up to the club. When I stepped out, literally every single bitch in line snapped their necks to stare at me. I think it was due to my height, because this shit always happened. I honestly didn’t know if I was ugly or good looking because a lot of the times I got pussy just from being tall and solid. I’m pretty sure a nice amount of these hoes didn’t care what my face looked like. Then add on the fact that I was locally famous, slowly working my way up to being known everywhere, and then possibly dangerous? I didn’t have to do anything to get a bitch. I just wished this shit worked on Laine.

  “Look at these hoes,” Aspen mumbled, slipping her hand into mine, as her bodyguards led us through the ruckus.

  Pictures were snapping, people were asking her for an autograph, and the ratchet L.A. bitches were calling my name like they knew me. When we reached the front, we just walked in and followed the bodyguards and hostess to a table that already had bottles and a card that read Reserved for Aspen. Before we could even sit down, the deejay announced us both, which annoyed me. The clubs I did go to out here, the DJs knew me and knew that I liked to be low key. I think this nigga was new though.

  “Sing something for us, Aspen,” he called out. Someone approached with a microphone a few minutes later, and handed it to her as the venue got quiet.

  She turned to look down at me, straddled my lap, and started singing what I assume was one of her songs. It was pretty sexual, and I admit, watching her pretty ass sing that shit had my dick trying to make an arrival in that pussy.

  When she was done, the club roared with an applause, just as she surprised me and tried to peck my lips. I swiftly moved so she caught the corner of my mouth, but clearly that was enough for her because she was cheesing.

  “Come stay with me tonight,” she mouthed, winding her body to the music playing.

  “You tripping,” I laughed, moving her from my lap. She really was.

  She just chuckled and made herself a drink, before we continued to party. Her lap dances were getting to me, especially because I was a little twisted. Once the clock hit 1am, she and I decided to leave, and I made sure to tell her driver that he needed to take me back to the Static building so I could get my car.

  “You’ve been drinking,” Aspen said once her driver pulled from the curb.

  “I’m not drunk though. I’ve been worse and had to drive.” I just didn’t want to spend the night with her. It was rare that I let these hoes lay up under me all night, and lately, if it wasn’t Laine then it was nobody.

  Getting onto the floor of the limo truck, Aspen reached up to unbuckle my jeans. You think I stopped her? You’re funny as fuck if you did.

  I watched her silently as I rested my back up against the seat. She moved her small hand up and down my dick, and in no time, it was hard.

  She was about to try and sit on it, but I palmed the top of her head to stop her from rising up.

  “Let me see how that mouth is, and then I’ll determine if I wanna beat.”

  She nodded like a peasant taking orders from a king, before wrapping her lips around my head. She slurped, sucked, and bobbed on it like her life depended on it. It felt good, and I liked watching pretty hoes suck me off so that was a plus, but I could already tell she wasn’t gonna be able to make me nut. It was a hard job, and out of all the head I’ve had, only three women have been able to take me there: Mendi, this hood head doctor named Sekoyah, and Laine. Laine did it the best though because she loved me. I could tell the difference, which is why she had a nigga going knock kneed on a couple occasions.

  I let her top me off for a little longer until I got bored, and then moved her off. As if God were on my side, the driver pulled over on Vine.

  “See you in the studio Monday, aight?” I put myself away as she stared up at me.

  “Okay. You didn’t finish though. You want—”

  “Nah, it’s cool. Have a good night.” I smiled and so did she, shyly, before I got out the car and went to get my whip.

  Crazy ass day, blood.

  ***

  The next morning…

  I’d just gotten done brushing and flossing, so I was rinsing my mouth with Listerine when Laine came and stood in the doorway of my bathroom. She scared the shit out of me, and I had to remind myself I’d given her a key in the past. She never used the shit, so I forgot.

  Her arms were folded across her chest, and she was frowning with her pretty ass. I missed her so I smiled after spitting out my mouthwash, instead of matching her expression.

  “Baby, what—”

  “Who is this? Your new bitch? Her songs are whack!” she barked, holding her phone up which displayed an Instagram video of Aspen straddling me and singing. She swiped up to reveal a picture, and it was Aspen giving me a lap dance, another of us holding hands going into the club, and then lastly, she swiped to one of Aspen kissing the corner of my mouth.

  “Hell nah, she ain’t my new bitch and you know that.”

  “I do?”

  “Why you care, Laine? Huh? I been telling you for weeks now that I was sorry and wanted you back, but you said you were done. So why are you breaking into my crib going ape shit?”

  “You know what? I don’t care, nigga. I just thought you had better taste than this air head hoe.”

  I slipped past her and she followed me to my bedroom. The smell of her sweet ass perfume was the shit right now, so even though she was on me like a Chihuahua to a mailman at the moment, I didn’t want her to leave.

  “Did you fuck her?” she questioned as I slipped my jeans up.

  “Her mouth, yeah.”

  “I can’t stand you! I don’t even know what I saw in you! You’re rude, you’re a cheater, and you’re just… ugh! I hate you!”

  I laughed because all I heard was ‘I love you and I wish I could be with you but I have too much pride’.

  “Okay, Laine. I hate you too, baby,” I spoke calmly, looping my belt around my jeans. With tears in her dark brown eyes, she tossed her thick wavy hair from one side to the other and then turned to leave. “Aye, come here.” I gripped her arm and hemmed her up against my open bedroom door. “Listen, baby. I love you, you know that, and I already told you I apologize for my mistake. That girl was literally something to stick my dick in that night and nothing else. I promise you. And right now, I know you’re on your Destiny’s Child shit, so I’m gonna let you be. But when you get over this stage and are ready to be back together, let me know.”

  “If you can get it from any girl, why do you want it from me?” she sniffled.

  “Because I love yo’ ass. And nothing feels better than when I’m inside you. I told you from day one these hoes ain’t on yo’ level. That’s why what happened won’t happen again, baby.”

  She nibbled on her lip like she was thinking, and then walked off and left my spot. As I pulled my wife beater and t-shirt over my head, my phone buzzed.

  Matthias: Good morning, Mischief. A young lady named Brooke is here looking for you.

  Me: Tell her I won’t be there today. Let me know when she leaves. Don’t wanna run into her.

  Matthias:
You got it bro.

  Matthias was as white as they came. Shit was jokes. But that was the homie fasho.

  I exhaled as I put my deodorant and cologne on, because I knew sooner than later I was gonna have to deal with this delusional ass bitch, Brooke. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to pump two into her.

  Erynne Ingland

  I was sitting in the living room of Risk’s home, watching TV, and talking on the phone to my mother. She was still trying to convince me not to leave Chicago for Los Angeles, but everything was already in place. Laine had the apartment ready, I left my job, and I of course had my plane ticket.

  I was scared and excited. And for some reason, Chaz stayed on my mind. I had to keep from asking Laine about him when we talked because I didn’t want to hear her mouth.

  “Well, since my baby is leaving me, you better stay all night this Wednesday when you come to dinner.” My mother spoke in her heavy Japanese accent.

  “I will stay a while, Mom, I promise. And I will visit you, believe me.”

  “You better.”

  “I said I promi—”

  “Let me talk to you. Hang up the phone.” Risk walked in and turned the TV off. He looked handsome even though he was just in a pair of pajama pants.

  “Umm, Ma, I have to go, but I will see you in two days. Tell Daddy I love him.”

  “Is everything fi—”

  “Ma, I have to go.” I hung up and then watched Risk pace the floor in front of me.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he smiled.

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “I bought tickets for us to visit Hawaii. We leave this Thursday,” he grinned, but it wasn’t a genuine grin. It was like he had something up his sleeve. And I’m sure it was no coincidence that he chose to leave the day I was to leave to Los Angeles.

  “Risk I can’t go, I have— I just can’t go.”

  “Ah!” I screeched when he rushed me and gripped my neck, pressing me into the back of the couch.

  “Oh, you thought I wasn’t gonna find out that you were trying to skip off to L.A. for good? This is my city, Erynne. I know every muthafucking thing. And the niggas I have watching you let me know you were shipping things weekly down to California.”