“Open up!” I heard Brianna shout again.
“Briii!” I called out. “I’m coming, girl!”
I made sure to shoot Yolanda a final look. No friendliness attached. She needed to see my irritation with her. Hopefully, she got it loud and clear that I was over her judgmental-ass that I wasn’t dealing with any more of it, on this trip.
And although that situation had been tabled, I had a strong feeling that things were going to get interesting.
-13-
MARCO
I walked into Cyn’s office, and as usual, she had some boring-ass Kenny G blaring through her Bose speakers. She didn’t even see me walk in because she was so focused, on what looked like the planner, that she took everywhere she went.
“Boo!” I shouted, before plopping down into one of two purple sofas she had near the oversized bay window.
“What the hell, Marco?! You scared me!” she said, clutching her chest and shutting the book closed.
“That’s because you had your face in that goddamn book.” I said, laughing hard at her. “What had you so focused anyway? Then you have this dry-ass music going. Makes me wanna take a nap, and shit.”
“Boy, please. What you trying to hear? Some damn rap music?” She picked up the remote control off her desk and lowered the volume. “Because you do know there’s other kinds of music—real music.”
“Cyn, I’m not here to get into ‘battle of the genres,’ with you. Especially, if this is the shit you’re gonna try to bring to the debate. Come on. This is just music made to depress the hell outta people. But enough about that. I got other shit to address with you.”
“Like what?” she asked slowly.
“You know exactly, like what.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, and held an expressionless glare on me. “Don’t shrug at me like that. I’m here to find out why you dogged my boy. After you tell me that, then we can talk all that other shit.”
When Cyn realized what I was speaking of, the look on her face was priceless. She was always in such control, but I could tell that I’d caught her off-guard. She lowered her eyes, then began to nervously weave her finger through her curls.
“Umm.” She cleared her throat, then attempted the rest of the question. “What are you—”
“You’re one of the smartest women I know, Cyn. Don’t play dumb. It’s not a good look.”
“Marco . . .”
“Don’t Marco me. Just tell me what’s happening. You knew Zo was into you. Why would you let me put my boy in a situation that you weren’t ready for? That makes me look bad. For real, though. Not cool, Cyn. Not cool.”
She sighed heavily, then got up from her chair and walked over to the window of her office. Not willing to let her off easily, I got up and followed.
“I didn’t mean to . . .” She paused again, still refusing to look me in the eyes. “It’s hard to explain, Marc. And I don’t get embarrassed about shit, but talking to you about this . . .” She turned to look at me finally. “. . . is humiliating. How much did . . . Alonzo tell you?”
“I think you already know what he told me. More than I wanted to know. I didn’t want, or need that visual. But hey. When somebody’s pissed they’re not holding back.”
“I guess . . .” she mumbled.
“I just wanna know why, Cyn. We’re tighter than that. You told me you wanted to hook up with him. And when you told me that, do you remember me telling you ‘No’? That I didn’t think it was a good idea?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember you telling me—”
“I know, Marc. I know. If I could fix it, I would.” She shook her head, the look in her eyes sad. “But . . . I can’t. It’s way more complicated than you know.”
“You serious right now? Zo is my best friend, and you’re like a sister to me. I shoulda just stayed out of the shit in the first place.”
She turned to look at me. “So, what now? Alonzo hate me or what? You hate me? I fucked up. I’m fucked up.”
I looked out the window and shook my head. It wasn’t about me being in Cyn’s office fighting another man’s battles. I was just big on people not dragging me into drama. I wasn’t about that shit. I wasn’t there as a representative for Zo, I was there because I needed Cyn to know that I was far from okay with what she did.
“I’m getting ready to go back to my suite so I can get ready for tonight,” I told her. “I need to bug CJ, about my music selection for later.”
I walked toward the door. “Marc . . .” Cyn called out, walking toward me. “I don’t want you mad at me. I don’t even want Alonzo mad at me. Honest to God, I didn’t mean to hurt him. I especially didn’t mean to involve you—indirectly or otherwise. It’s just . . . it’s complicated.”
I turned back around to face her. “Yeah, you said that, Cyn. Look, I gotta go. We’re good. I just wanted you to know how I felt about what you did. I did that. I’m done.”
I’d almost made it out when Cyn called to me again. “Marco, hold on. Just for one sec.”
I stopped in my tracks and leaned against the threshold of her office door.
“What’s up?”
She walked toward her desk and picked up her planner, then brought it over to me. I’d never seen Cyn look as vulnerable as she did in that moment. From the time Cyn and I first met, up until I walked into her office a few minutes earlier, she had always had the toughest exterior of any woman I knew. Her posture was even different. Tense. She always walked with a smooth, regal strut. Confident. But now, she seemed slightly rigid.
She flipped the book open, then held it out to me. “Look,” she urged.
I glanced down at the book and then back up at her. “What am I lookin’ for? It’s the itinerary for tonight’s show . . . and?”
“This name right here,” she pointed. “Kassidi Henson?”
“Okay . . .” I said, looking briefly, then hunching my shoulders. “Somebody you know?”
“Not really.”
“Cyn . . . come on now. Not doin’ riddles. You know I like hours in between me getting ready for my show.”
Reclaiming the book from my hands, she announced, “She’s the woman who took my place.”
“What? Took your place with what?”
“With everything,” she responded cryptically. “And now, she’s coming here tonight for her bachelorette party and I have to see her face. Do you know how fucked up that’s going to be for me to have to see the face of the woman who was better than me?” It’s been fucking with me since I found out.” She walked away from me and back to her desk to replace the planner, then turned around to face me. “Of all the places in Las Vegas she could’ve had her party, she comes to my house. I’m not sure how to handle this shit, Marco. I was everything I could be to him, only for him to basically spit in my face and choose another woman over me.”
It started to make sense. Every time me and Cyn ever got into conversations about relationships, she’d shut down. It was always me saying that it wasn’t in the stars for me. But it was her saying that she’d done it once, and probably wouldn’t ever do it again. I just thought it was her playing hard ball for no reason; but seeing her reaction to this whole situation with the fiancé chick, I could clearly see that she was affected in a big way.
I doubled back into Cyn’s office and sat down on the sofa.
“Come here for a minute, Cyn,” I said, patting the empty spot next to me.
I did need to go and prepare for my show. But right now, my friend was in pain and I needed to spare a few minutes for her. Being a little behind wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
-14-
KASSIDI
Later that night . . .
“I’m about to turn up!” Brianna sang, fresh out the back seat of the uber we’d taken to our destination.
“Clearly!” Pilar replied. “I knew that, when you downed those shots, before we even got to the party!”
We all burst out laughing. Brianna had for sure had a few shots from th
e bottle of honey Jack Daniels she’d traveled to Vegas with.
“Whatever, girl!” Brianna said, snapping her fingers to no beat, and swaying her hips, in nude mesh dress that left little to the imagination. “I’m ‘turn up queen’ goals, and you’re mad! ‘Bout to make this a night to remember! In your honor, Kass!” she exclaimed.
“Thanks, babes. I’m sure you will!” I said to my slightly tipsy girlfriend.
“Shit, I didn’t have anything to drink . . . yet,” Niecy added. “. . . but I’m ready to turn up too!”
“Well, that makes all of us, then,” Yolanda chimed in. “Lord knows I need to offload a bit of stress.”
“And we look good as hell!” Brianna declared out the blue.
But she was right. Me and my girls were in full effect with our high energy levels. And my goal was simple—to live my full life. That was why I went all out with my outfit tonight. The fitted coral bodysuit that graced my curves, had me feeling myself from the moment I slid into it. It just felt right. It laid on me like a man in love. I felt ultra-feminine, ultra-free. It was literally the only garment I had on because beneath was neither a thong, nor a bra. Free! And I loved it!
I had slicked my edges down so that my curls could fall around my face. I even gave myself a deep part on the right side. It was very cute and very sexy. My diamond hoop earrings were large, and paired with the matching necklace that hung low and rested at the opening to my cleavage. I’d searched high and low, until I found, the coral lace-up open-toe heel that put me four inches taller than my five-foot-six stature.
When we entered the venue, a feeling washed over me. Immediately, after handing over our tickets, we turned a corner and the full view of the club was before us. You had to descend a black, L-shaped staircase that felt like it was padded with some plush material, and the whole way down it just had the appearance of a gigantic, open loft space. In that loft space sat chairs, leather sofas, benches in some places, and an enclosed DJ booth that sat on a third level, blasting Ro James’ Permission. I found myself snapping my fingers, and swaying my hips to the beat. It was contagious, to say the least.
“Heyyy, now!” Brianna said, dancing her way down the stairs. “…I just wanna spend a little time wit’ you! With yo’ permission, tonight I wanna be a little me on you!!” she belted out. I could already tell that Brianna was going to be ‘the party’, tonight. I was all the way there for it, too.
I couldn’t stop taking in the club. The Bay didn’t have clubs that looked like it at all. At least I hadn’t been to them. Directly under the DJ’s booth, on the floor below, was a full bar, complete with what had to be about ten bartenders. The place was equipped to serve!
In the center of it all, was a stage that gave the feel of a boxing ring—while twice its size—sans the ropes. Lights illuminated beneath the stage’s floor, like that Simon Says game, that everyone used to play growing up. Except the way that lights were programmed, it had black around the edges, and dark purple ones popping up intermittently, in the center. There was something extremely sexy about it all, intimate.
But even as impressed as I was with the ambiance, I felt jittery. The girls had assured me a few times, that what we were going to see was not stripping, but exotic dancing. To me it was all the same. Before this trip, strippers had never . . . not ever . . . been my thing. Never had an urge to see them. Not even when Channing Tatum’s fine-ass self was in that Magic Mike movie. I was impressed at how that man moved his body—especially, for a white guy—but it still never got me in mode to sit front row at a show, like we were doing tonight.
I prayed to God and the stars above, that I wouldn’t be targeted. That, I wasn’t ready for. But to prepare myself, the first thing I did was order my first drink—straight Patron with no chaser.
“Look at her ass!” Brianna teased. “Scary, and shit!”
“I don’t care what y’all have to say! I’m gonna drink until I feel the effects of the liquor! Because I already know with my luck, my ass is gonna end up on stage!”
“Welcome to Cyn Cityyy!” It was a woman’s voice that blared through the venue, startling the hell out of me!
The place went dark, causing my heart to beat faster than it already was. I think it was more of the unknown, than anything. But if I was really going to live my full life as I’d promised myself, I needed to stop tripping. I just hoped that I could! My girls were screaming like they didn’t have any sense, blending right in with every other woman in the place. It was mayhem. Strobe lights in select places began to rotate silver beams of light around the room, landing on our area at times.
“A lot of beautiful women in the building tonight! Where y’all from?!”
The chorus in the room went wild with women screaming their cities over each other.
“From everywhere, huh?! I heard that! Well, we’re glad you came! You’re in for a treat! If you haven’t had the pleasure of cumming before, then tonight you’re in for the orgasm of your life!”
Suddenly, an area to the right of the DJ booth lit up, and revealed the person behind the voice. She was dark-haired and petite. She wore a magician’s hat, stilettos, and an all-black, low-cut leotard.
“First up, we’ve got the Wolf Pack!” she yelled, followed by thunderous crowd-cheering, and howling sound effects coming from somewhere in the distance. I wondered if it was the Wolf Pack, themselves, making the noise.
“Awhooo! Awhooo! Awhooo! Awhooo! Awhooo!” came in succession.
“Aww, baby! Y’all hear that?!” she asked. “Do I let them out?! Just say the word!”
Women around the room, myself included, jumped to our feet and cheered for them to show themselves. Where nervousness once lived, excitement and curiosity, were taking its place. Didn’t know if it was the alcohol, but it was welcomed as hell! I was ready for what was next.
“Wolves! let ‘em know you’re in the building!”
And then it was confirmed for me that it was them, when they hit the stage one by one, dressed in all-black: Timbs, jeans, t-shirts with “ALPHAS” written across in white block letters, and fedoras! I damn near flatline. I was fixated.
“Majesty! Dome! Han! Cobra! Aaaaand Wolverine!”
Lord Jesus be some self-control! I begged.
Five of the most beautiful specimens did their walk around the fucking stage in what seemed like slow-motion. They wanted us to take the in, in all their glory. And glorious, it was. I didn’t know who the hell was who, but the men ranged in fineness. Wolverine, I could bet my whole salary, was the one with the full mane of gorgeous, dark hair falling from his fedora. He was mocha-colored perfection. Exotic. He was so perfectly sculpted it wasn’t funny. Built like a muthafucka! Shit! Where were these men when I was single?!
“Give these girls a taste of what’s to come!” the hostess instructed, as the light once again dimmed where she was.
It was clear that she’d handed the reigns over to the boys on the floor, as seconds later, Usher “Good Kisser,” came pounding through the stereo system, causing mass hysteria in the crowd.
♫
I done been around the world, I done kissed a lot of girls
So, I'm guessin' that it's true
♫
It was the incentive that Wolverine needed. While the Pack began dancing in place on stage, Wolverine jumped his fine-ass off the stage and into our section. He started dancing where we were, his body grinding to the beat—hard. He pulled his shirt off and helicoptered it over his head.
♫
Make me holla and I bet a million dollars
Don't nobody kiss it like you
Don't nobody kiss it like you, don't nobody kiss it like you, ba-baby
Don't nobody kiss it like you, don't nobody kiss it like you
♫
My eyes bulged to the sizes of quarters when he went straight for Brianna, wrapped his shirt around the back of her neck, and began to dry hump her in her seat. For her part, Brianna was all the way into it! It was just him and her in the room in
that moment.
Yes, this night was going to be interesting . . .
-15-
MARCO
I stood backstage watching the Wolf Pack’s intro. Their act was tight and they moved good together, complemented one another. They were phenomenal, collectively. I thought back to the early days—four years ago—when I was a part of the Pack and then got offered to break off on my own. Roland, the guy that had my solo spot before, trained me on some technique I didn’t have; it helped to tighten my craft exponentially. That dude was, and still is, a beast in exotic dance circles.
Cyn hated seeing him go and was in severe panic mode, when his time to leave began to tick-tock. But, she held auditions one day with a panel that she brought in from Los Angeles. Both she and Roland sat on the panel with the experts. Using what I learned from him, I killed it! Because Cyn only occasionally came to the shows, she was shocked to see what I could do on my own.
I remember the day I hit the stage solo, like it was yesterday. I didn’t sleep the night before at all. I was wired! I don’t get scared of anything. However, that first solo had me fucking shaking like I was in subzero degree weather! As confident as I felt when I was awarded the spot, I thought for sure I was gonna tank. I’d never felt like such a punk in all my life. Confidence was in the dirt on life support. It was bad!
Dancing in a group was one thing. Auditioning for six people was one thing. But performing as the headliner, for a sold-out fucking club . . . that was an entirely different beast! Despite my fear, what surprised me was that when they called out my name, and the music started to play, I made the stage my bitch.
The Graffiti Effect Page 7