Never looked back.
Never had to. I worked my ass off to get my spot. I still work my ass off for my spot. That was why when Bash told me that Majesty was after it, I shrugged it off. Majesty had three extra years on me and was still stuck where he had always been. He had talent to go further, but he chose to remain stagnant. That wasn’t my fault at all. If he was smart, he would’ve asked Cyn a long time ago to open another slot for him. However, he chose to live in hater-mode, rather than beast-mode. When he auditioned for Roland’s spot and didn’t get it, it wasn’t because he was bad, it was because I was better.
When “Pony” began to play, I shook my head. I had no idea how that song became the anthem, but I was over it, and had warned C.J. a long time ago to never play it as part of my set. Shit was so cliché. But the Wolf Pack was still into it and always had it play as their exit music. So, with it coming down to the end, I headed to my dressing room to do a few last-minute things—like see to it that my hair was cool.
I went straight to the full-length mirror, and leaned in close to make sure that my brows, mustache and beard were laying perfectly. If I didn’t know that my mother was really my mother, I would doubt my parentage. We looked completely different. My complexion was olive, to the point that it looked like a permanent tan. To the point that people would often ask, “What are you mixed with?” Then the tight curl that turned to a deep wave when my hair was cut low, was for sure a stark contrast from my mother’s fair skin, and straight, blonde hair.
I logged myself out of the conversation I’d had so many times in my head. No time to get stuck in a, ‘Who the fuck is my father?’ moment. I had somewhere to be.
I tucked the strings of up my wheat-colored Timberland boots. Made sure the top of the fly on my distressed jeans was unbuttoned, just enough. That the white of my boxer briefs showed, just enough. When all of that was good, I pulled my hoodie over my head and gave myself a nod.
In the distance a thunderous roar of applause and screams was happening just as the intermission music started to play.
It was showtime . . .
-16-
KASSIDI
“I’m going to the bathroom real quick!” I announced to Yolanda, whose seat was right next to mine. “This damn liquor is going through me like crazy!”
I had just taken down my fourth Amaretto Sour and my legs felt tingly as damn ever. It was crazy, because it never failed . . . my thighs were always the first to go—right behind my bladder.
“Okay! Hurry back!” she insisted.
“Where you goin’?!” one of the girls yelled out when I bolted past. “Girl! you can’t leave!”
I ran as fast as my loose legs would allow. When I got to the stall and dressed it, just to hover, it seemed my flow went on forever! Every drink that I’d had was going down the commode. Almost a minute later was when my bladder breathed a sigh of relief. I rushed to clean up, and wash my hands. I made sure to check to see if my hair was still intact, since I had been dancing like crazy during the Wolf Pack’s set. Seconds later, I was hurrying back to the show. What I didn’t want was to be returning late, and be in the spotlight. Didn’t need that at all.
I thanked my lucky stars, that although it came close a few times, I hadn’t been any of the guys’ target. I already knew if that had happened, I wouldn’t have lived it down. Brianna, however, had been on radar twice. Yolanda even made a snide comment about not being noticed, that made me laugh. She seemed okay with it, until Brianna got the attention, a second time. Niecy and Pilar were both too far gone off the drinks to give a damn.
On my way back, the lights dimmed again. I put extra pep in my step, and made it to my seat just in time for the whole room to once again, fade to black. I got comfortable in my seat, my heart racing for some reason that I couldn’t identify.
And then . . .
The sound was like a continual pulsating heartbeat, at first. But, then it sounded like it had ocean waves blended into it. Hypnotic, almost. The beat got louder and then came Drake’s lyrics:
♫
Own it . . .
You’re still the one that I adore . . .
Ain’t much out there to have feelings for.
Guess whose it is. Guess whose it is. Guess whose it is. Guess whose it isss!
Yours.
A few bottles on the table, a few waters, it ain’t a secret baby, everybody saw us
Guess whose it is. Guess whose it is. Guess whose it is. It’s yourrrs!
Next time we fuck, I don’t wanna fuck I wanna make love . . .
♫
The music was cut momentarily, and not a peep could be heard in the room. Well, wait, that’s not entirely true. I heard something—my heart beating against the inside the wall of my chest. I didn’t understand how everyone was so obedient with the silence, it was like all of them—including my ass—were in a trance or something.
Then the silence broke . . .
“Y’all ready for the Graffiti Effect?!” the Deejay shouted high above our heads, followed by a room full of, “Yeahhh’s!”
“I said . . . Are. Y’all. Ready. For. The Graffiti Effect?!”
“Yeeeaaahhh!” we all cheered in unison.
“That’s more like it!”
Right then, the lights in the stage’s floor went crazy, darting around in a frenzy with no particular pattern. Within seconds, a platform lowered from the ceiling. The screams from everyone in the room seemed as though they would never end, getting rowdier with each breath. The platform didn’t touch the on stage; instead, it hovered just about four feet from it. While the women in the room were screaming, I was dead-silent unable to take my eyes off of this Graffiti person. A beaming light cut on above his head and he came into full view.
Beautiful, was the first word that came to mind. In that second it was easy to see that Vegas is where the eye candy was. Vegas had it!
The man’s chest was ripped and golden. His wheat-colored jacket was unzipped, but the hood covered his hair, leaving just enough for me to see how dark it was. He was fine as hell. Undoubtedly, one of the finest men I’d ever seen.
There was something oddly familiar about him . . .
With his hand in a salute position, he scanned the crowd. A smile swept across his face as he nodded his satisfaction. His hand fell from position, and as if on cue, he forward-flipped onto the stage. His immaculate landing, sent all of us further into a screaming frenzy. I’d become invested in his show. There was no turning back.
When his platform ascended toward the ceiling, leaving him with us, Jeremih came through the speakers.
♫
Early in the morning’s when I think about you
I hit you like what you sayin'
And the morning when I wanna fuck you
Yeah, I hit you like what you sayin'
I could fuck you all the tiiime . . . oooh!
I could fuck you all the tiiime . . . oooh!
♫
The moment he began ticking to the music, it was over. We went wild! Every damn thing ticked. From his chest, and moving on down to his . . . middle . . . where the white boxer briefs peeked out. That body of his ticking the way it was . . . was mesmerizing!
Lord, be some self-control!
He pulled the hood off of his head, to reveal a stunning head of jet-black curls, or waves, or whatever they were. His features came alive even more. My breath caught in my chest. It was him! From the lobby. It was definitely him. Although, I’d only seen him for a few minutes, I was sure of it. Even in the distance, his attractiveness magnified. His mustache and his beard connected something like a goatee and were groomed to perfection, to fit his strong face. Just like earlier, there wasn’t a single flaw—at least not surface.
You’re engaged! Why are you giving so much energy to this?! Stop that shit and just enjoy the show! I questioned myself and checked myself at the same time. But just as quickly as I did that, I was back to wondering about this man all over again. It’s okay to admire, I con
vinced myself. I’m sure Jamie does it. Just because I’m engaged doesn’t mean I’m blind!
He didn’t miss not one beat. Even when he paused to remove his hoodie . . . it was to the beat. He had an ‘it’ factor, for sure. His chest was chiseled, ripped. And as he did his body roll, I found my eyes going up and down his physique. While the girls in the room were their hearts out, I was screaming on the inside—at myself—for how fascinated I was.
♫
P-p-pussy for breakfast, that's how I start my day
My dick is a pen, it's written all over her face
I put my tongue in her mouth, I make her pussy lips drool
She got that junk in the trunk, you know I like junk food
I tell her like this: life is good
Your pussy better, but I put on her magnum
I could go and melt her
And if it's sweeter, I'ma eat it till I get sugar diabetes
I'm her blood and she anemic we perfect!
♫
He danced his way near the edge of the stage and then fell forward, both hands to the floor, where he did some kind of worm movements. Looked like some sexy-ass pushups with a lot of sexual undertones. Hot!
It’s the dancing. Nothing more. It’s okay. You’re just admiring the dancing. You’re supposed to be here to have a good time. Stop punishing yourself for it and live!
“We got us a bride-to-be in the audience!” I heard, aggressively snatching me from my focus.
Huh?! God, please let them be talking about somebody else, I pleaded. Pleeease!
However, when I felt my girls’ eyes on me, I knew that my prayers were going to go unanswered. I looked over at them and shook my head vigorously. Brought any bit of high I had…down! Ran any bit of courage I was feeling…away! Brianna covered her mouth and laughed into her hands, while Yolanda just hunched her shoulders, as though she was innocent in all this.
“No!” I mouthed to them. “Nooo!” It really hit home, though, when the light beamed directly on me!
My heart’s pitter patter was majorly aggressive, more like attack mode. More like I could’ve easily had a panic attack right then and right there!
Oh fuck! Ohhh fuck!
“Kassidi! It’s on you, beautiful!” the deejay said into the microphone.
I didn’t know what I was going to do when I saw the platform from earlier, return to the stage, only this time a chair sat on it! And I thought I was going to full-on faint when a guy came from the side of me and reached out for my hand. I hesitated for a few seconds, but that light on me, Graffiti’s eyes on me, and the final nudge to my shoulder by one of the girls . . . I had no choice.
Each step I took with my escort, I felt a fainting spell calling my name. Nausea was also present. The last thing I needed was to faint in front of all these people and end up on fuckin’ YouTube! So, I had to woman up. Be brave, I encouraged myself. Be brave. Act like nobody is there.
Once on stage, Graffiti’s eyes locked on me . . . and mine on him, as my escort ushered me to the awaiting chair. My heart was pounding so hard! I was scared as shit of what was about to happen!
As soon as he and I were on the stage alone, the selection changed and I was done for. No. Can’t be. Of all the damn music in the damn world, the deejay played my song. It was my song. A song I had on repeat on my iPod. A song that made me go and buy two copies of the CD when it came out, because I didn’t want to be ass-out, if one was destroyed!
♫
Now that you're here, I got somethin' to say baby, I think that you should know
You're givin' the most, sugar, so don't worry 'bout the situation. I'd never let you go
♫
He walked up on me, stopped in front of the chair, and softly stroked my chin with his forefinger. He held onto the sides of the chair and began to slow grind to the music, the whole time holding his glare on me. The women screaming in the back almost overpowered the music. Almost. They were that loud, that excited. I was speechless. Honest to God . . . speechless.
♫
Can you handle it, if I go there baby with you?
I can handle it, I can go there baby with you
Ooh I hear you talkin’ babe
Can you handle it? Can I go there baby with you?
♫
He circled the chair, making his way back to the front of me where he parted my thighs! My heart dropped to my feet. I felt completely exposed. Not that he knew I was butt-ass naked beneath, but I knew! It was fucking with me, bad! In a matter of seconds, this man, with all his strength reached down and picked me up from the chair! Instinctively, I held onto his neck. He danced with me in his arms for a few seconds before slowly lowering me to the floor.
♫
We gon’ set it off, we gon’ tear it up
Baby can you handle . . .?
♫
As soon as I was on my feet steady, he pulled me into him. Close enough to feel his chest pressed against mine. Close enough for him to probably know that I had zero ounce of clothing beneath my outfit. I prayed that my nipples didn’t erect. I prayed hard.
♫
Wooooo baby!
You say all the time
You only want the best of my love
Now I can see that
There's only one way to tear it up
Yeah
I'm willing to tell you, everything I let stand between us
But what if I tell you too much
♫
“Hold on to me . . .” he whispered in my ear, right before the lights dimmed around us.
While the beat graced the airwaves, my eyes closed and I zoned out. As if hypnotized by the bass, I fell in line and snapped my fingers to the beat. It was an unintentional reaction on my part, but I couldn’t stop it, even after I realized it was happening.
I found myself not only swaying with this man, but singing the ballad! All the way to the end . . .
I didn’t know when it was exactly that the music stopped, but I knew that everything stirring in me was wrong. It was wrong for a woman about to get married. I couldn’t believe how intimate our encounter was. I just couldn’t.
“Good to see you again,” he whispered to me.
He remembers!
I sighed out loud. A sigh that hopefully, he didn’t hear. “Uhh . . . you too.”
“And congratulations,” he offered, as we let go of each other and the escort came to take me back to my seat.
-17-
Marco
“Dude!” Bash said, coming up behind me after I got done performing. “Dude!” he said again, laughing and following me into my dressing room.
“What?!” I yelled, wiping my face down with a towel that I’d grabbed.
“That shit was fire. You know my ass is straight as fuck, but you got a gift, my dude.”
“Thanks, bro,” I said, dapping him up. “I appreciate that. “I’m tired as fuck, and I don’t get tired, ever.”
“Shit, you’re tired because of the energy you put into that show—right at the end!”
Bash gave me a look with a slick grin on his face. I already knew what he was implying, but I wasn’t biting. I wasn’t going to be lured into that conversation. He was way off base, anyway. It was nothing like that. It was just that I hadn’t been able to take my nap like I normally did because I was caught up trying to be a friend to him. Only to be put in a similar position with Cyn, a short time later.
And honestly, after ‘unofficially’ meeting the woman that Cyn was worried about, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know how deeply Cyn would be affected if they came face-to-face. Not that Cyn wasn’t attractive, but she might not be too happy to see how beautiful her competition was.
“Nah, it didn’t have anything to do with that,” I assured him.
“So, you’re gonna tell me that you weren’t into that fiancé? She’s hot as fuck, with a fat ass.”
“Dude, you’re a hound,” I shot out with a laugh.
“And you’re not?”
> “Nah, not for somebody’s wife, I’m not.”
“She ain’t his wife yet. And she might not be after this fan gathering.”
“You don’t even know that she’ll be there for that, Bash.”
“Bet, she will,” he replied confidently.
“Okay, and so what if she is? Actually, you know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t even know why I’m having this conversation with you. There’s too many free women to be having a debate with you, about one that’s not.”
Bash shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m on my way out there to mingle and see if I have any prospects for later.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are. I’m getting ready to take a shower, so I’ll see you in a few.”
“I’ll keep your girl occupied until you come out!” he said as I walked away from him.
Bash was reading way too much into that performance. It was just as involved as all my other ones. I was on display, so I had to be on full display. It was nothing more and nothing less.
It wasn’t the first time that shit got intimate with one of the chicks from the audience. It sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last. Yeah, she was hot as fuck and I remembered everything about her without even trying to. From the mocha brown of her skin, to the soft curls falling around her face. I even remembered the curvature of her waist. There was also the fact that she didn’t have on anything under her peachy/pink-colored body thing she had on. Shit was sexy and tempting. Almost had my dick hard out there. But I kept my cool.
I found myself wondering about this dude she was about to marry. Clearly, he had good taste in women to be marrying her, and to have been in a long-term relationship with Cyn. I wondered how the chick would feel if she knew that we shared some kind of connection.
Twenty or so minutes later, I walked into the VIP to hang out with the guests. It was busy, busy, busy in there. I was glad as hell when I spotted the Wolf Pack. Sometimes they didn’t all show up and that meant those of us who were in attendance had to spread ourselves thin as hell. These women wanted all kinds of attention. They also hadn’t grasped the fact that time needed to be split, since the meet & greet portion was only about ninety minutes long. At least for me; I never went the full two hours. I used that last half hour to get back to my suite and prepare for whatever chick I was gonna serve the pipe to.
The Graffiti Effect Page 8