Gets No Love

by Eric Pete

  “You don’t love me anymore?” she asked as I squeezed the air from her lungs.

  “I don’t think I ever said that,” I replied, borrowing the line Roxie had just used on me. “It’s good to see you. You look good.”

  “You too. So if I didn’t see you in here tonight, would you be talking to me?”

  I cleared a little space between us and looked into her eyes. “Eventually. I’ve had a lot of stuff going on. When did you get here? I didn’t see you when I was walking around.”

  “I’ve been here. I arrived with him,” she said, referring to Akhet and not quite sure how I’d react. “I was upstairs listening to jazz. That creature over there followed me down. She’s been talkin’ straight shit all night, but I thought better of taking my shoes off and throwing down.”

  “Who? Roxie?”

  Kyne sucked her teeth. “Whatever the skank’s name is. She was trying to get at me through you. I don’t think she likes me.”

  I laughed. “Does any woman?”

  She thought to herself. “True. Here. Have a seat. AK’s going to be performing in a little while.”

  As Kyne moved over to clear a seat for me, I saw Roxie glaring in our direction. A middle finger went up as she tasted her Malibu and pineapple again. I was going to flip her off back, but was the bigger person. It seemed to infuriate her more that I wasn’t playing her game. Akhet should’ve never fucked her, I thought to myself.

  “Lance, Lance,” Kyne said, snapping her fingers. “Hello. I’m over here. Stop indulging her.”

  “That’s funny coming from you. You’re responsible for a lot of this drama, y’know.”

  “Are you talking about the mess with that girl over there? Or about something else?”

  “Nah. I’m talking about Roxie and Alexis. I’m cool about you and Akhet.”

  “You mean it?”

  I turned my drink up and plopped an ice cube into my mouth. “Yes.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive, really. Y’all made decisions . . . and you’re both my friends.”

  “That’s good to know,” she said as she grasped my hand. Her smile didn’t betray her thoughts. “You know, some decisions people make are based on the decisions of others.”

  “Now you’re talking about me.”

  “Yeah.”

  I thought back to that day when, after the lake, Kyne wanted a bit of my time, but I blew her off . . . because of Val as usual. “Do you love him?”

  “Damn. Something on your mind?”

  I laughed. “Just asking a question.”

  “Doesn’t this make you uncomfortable?”

  “Hey, I’m Lance. Life is uncomfortable.”

  “Only because you chose to make it so. Is your relationship with Val worth that much?”

  Without the slightest hesitation, I answered, “Yes.” She had chosen Robert. She had gone back to him and had left New Orleans and me. And I still said yes.

  The silence at the table drowned out the throbbing bass of the DJ. With Kyne’s eye on me, I looked out onto the dance floor instead and pretended to be hearing the song. Things had changed between us to the point where I couldn’t tell Kyne a steady truth as things being through as through can be for me and Val.

  Just then, to my surprise, a stoic Melvin, the man holding the puppet strings and the real power behind On-Phire Records, walked by our table. The air seemed to chill a few degrees wherever he went. He was alone and pretended not to notice us. When I saw that he was gone, I went back to watching the dance floor. Kyne let out a long breath of frustration.

  “Will you at least tell me what’s going on with Jason North?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is starting to be insulting,” she said, shaking my arm to get my attention. She leaned toward me to stress her words over Sean Paul’s dance hall track that had just begun playing. “Lance, you never treated me like this before. Don’t start now. Akhet hasn’t been himself. He won’t talk about his contract or anything anymore. And if he does, it’s only when we’re not home.”

  “So, it’s your home now?”

  She cut her eyes at the cheap shot produced by my bruised ego before continuing. “He sleeps alone, downstairs all the time. I know you know what it’s about. He must’ve talked to you.”

  If he hadn’t told her about my talk with him, then I wasn’t going to. The less she knew, the safer she would be. “Is his contract and his money all you’re thinking about?”

  “Are you asking me if I’m playing him?”

  “Since you brought it up . . . Are you?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll ask my original question again. Do you love him?”

  “If I open up, will you? And tell me what is going on?”

  I thought long and hard. “Maybe.”

  “I love him. I’m not in love with him . . . yet. I thought that maybe we were heading there, but then he comes home one day all quiet and changed.”

  “Wow. I never would’ve thought.”

  “Me either,” she said with a laugh, as if opening up had done her some good. “He’s not like I thought he was, y’know?”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “None of this was planned. When I saw you at the lake, things weren’t going so well for me. I really needed you that day, but Akhet was available and things just wound up happening. Y’all two are more alike than I’d have thought. He just hides that side of him.”

  “You got him to show it.”

  “I did, huh?” We both smiled. “I just want to help him, Lance. Will you let me?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her of my conversation with Melvin in the limo, when a heavy bass track and flashing lights interrupted me. The moment we had been waiting for had arrived. People began scurrying to the dance floor as a hype man came out, announcing to the club that the almighty AK was about to take the stage for a birthday performance we would not soon forget.

  34

  “I SAID . . . ARE Y’ALL READY FOR AK?”

  Men and women both screamed in unison. Kyne and I had moved from our seats to get a better view. As we worked our way through the ever-tightening crowd, we could see Jason North and the rest of the entourage at the side of the stage. Jason, in his signature sport coat, looked as confident and sure as he always did in public settings. Melvin was standing around in his public role as Jason’s security again. He scanned the crowd as if protecting Jason, but he was really just looking out for his investment.

  “EVERYBODY, PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR NEW ORLEANS’ FINEST, THE ONE, THE ONLY, THE PLAYER HATER HIMSELF . . . AAAAY KAAAY!”

  Clouds billowed out from the smoke generators. Lights began beaming through the smoke, revealing figures that turned out to be some of the finest dancers I’ve ever seen. The line of six women in tight gray shorts with black T-shirts sporting cutoff sleeves came out first, dancing in step to the instrumental the DJ was playing. In the center of their chests were large silver letters, AK. Behind us, the crowd surged as club-goers from the other levels got word the show was beginning. On stage, the line parted for the star of the night, Akhet, who came out to roaring applause.

  “Dancing? He’s dancing,” I said aloud over the screams and shouts. “Akhet doesn’t dance!”

  With a grin, Kyne elbowed me and replied, “He does now. Just a little. Something I taught him.”

  AK got the crowd going with some of his older material first. I remembered those rhymes during the less glamorous days when he used to rehearse them between slinging rocks on street corners. He had wanted to leave that life behind him so bad. On his terms, he had done just that. I wasn’t much older, but I felt like a proud poppa as I watched him feed off the emotions of the crowd. As he pumped his mike-holding fist and pointed at the crowd, he paused ever so briefly to smile at Kyne and me.

  AK’s nonstop verbal assault continued for another thirty to forty minutes, before taking a break to towel off his sweat. His threw the towel into the c
rowd behind us where two women who appeared to be sophisticated lost all their composure as they engaged in a tug-of-war over his sweat rag. Jason North took advantage of the break to come on stage, applauding Akhet as he approached with his patented smile. Akhet didn’t show any evidence of his true feelings for Jason as they embraced.

  Upon Jason’s instructions, a large birthday cake was carried onstage. After presenting it to AK with another round of applause, Jason then invited women from the audience to come up and sing “Happy Birthday” to him.

  After blowing out his candles and saying a prayer, my boy had a few words of thanks as he wiped fans’ lipstick off his face. To our surprise, he then gave a shout-out to Kyne and me for making his birthday special before moving on with his show. Melvin, ever watching from the sidelines, seemed to make note of that.

  After a motion to the DJ, the sound of horns started blaring, signaling to the rocking and screaming audience that AK was about to rip into his rendition of the hottest single in the country, along with the most played video on BET, “New Orleans’ Finest.”

  As the club throbbed with the intensity of my boy’s lyrics and his thunderous track, he decided to change things up a bit. Rather than referring to himself as the best rapper in the game, he flipped the lyrics to refer to the women of the Crescent City as the finest instead. One by one, with Jason North’s approval, several ladies were helped by security. The younger ones started dancing provocatively around AK first, then the older ones got into the act. Kyne knew this went with the business and wasn’t the least bit insecure, so she simply smiled and continued dancing. A few of the guys on our side, who were enjoying the stage show, began realizing they had the woman from the video right in their midst.

  “You have some fans over there,” I said as the ooohs and aahs suddenly caught her attention. Kyne, pretending not to notice, kept on dancing. When I looked back to AK’s performance, I realized that another woman had been let up from the crowd and was proceeding to steal the show from the rest.

  “That little . . . ,” Kyne mouthed aloud at the sight of Roxie, who was now on stage and sneering like a jackal at her as she intentionally groped and ground herself all over AK. Akhet was so caught up in his performance that he didn’t realize who was giving Kyne such fits until he realized it was Roxie’s ass being thrown at him. As stunned as he was to see her, he only lost his concentration for a brief second before continuing on with the show.

  Gracefully sidestepping Roxie’s thrusting pelvis, Akhet moved closer to security to get their attention. He gave them a motion to remove Roxie from the stage and continued on with the show. I saw one of the security staff, a bodybuilder with wavy hair, begin to climb up onto the stage. Something caught his eye as he looked to the side where Jason North and Melvin were. Jason gave him sort of a signal, telling him to leave Roxie onstage. With his allegiance determined, he slowed then resumed standing guard, ignoring Akhet’s request.

  “Did you see that shit?”

  “Yeah. I guess Jason and them want the attention Roxie is generating up there.”

  “Well, they’re about to get more attention than they bargained for, Lance.”

  With that said, she was off. I tried to keep up with a storming Kyne as she made a beeline for the stage, trying to talk her out of whatever she was going to do every step of the way. She ditched the pissed look on her face when she got to the line of security and started acting like she was simply a groupie who wanted to shake her ass on stage like the rest. With her looks and that bangin’ body, it only took the same guy a second to agree to it. He began clearing a path for her to the stage, but then suddenly stopped. On the other side, Jason, recognizing Kyne, had shaken his head at the guy with the name MACK on his shirt. Mack obeyed his orders again and mumbled something to Kyne before firmly blocking her with his body. I had just caught up with her and looked at the now smiling Melvin.

  Kyne continued protesting as Roxie was taunting her from the stage. Akhet didn’t see that Kyne had moved almost to within reach, but was still trying to keep Roxie somewhat at bay while not making a scene for the partygoers. The guys who had recognized Kyne from the video were now right beside us and trying to lead the chant, “Put her on stage! Let her dance!” Seeing things might get out of hand, Mack gave the signal and several of his friends on security swarmed onto the unknown victims and snatched them up. Seeing what had just happened and that we might be next, I convinced Kyne to let Akhet finish his number. Roxie was doing no real harm and was only making herself look available to the lusting men in the crowd who had begun talking about her gyrations and wagering on if they could take her home after the show. Jason looked pretty smug knowing that he had caused trouble for Kyne. As I held her back, I cracked a smile at the loser just to show him up.

  As Akhet finished his big number, the women were escorted off the stage. Roxie was up in his ear, trying to say something to him, but he just nodded and continued pushing her along into the waiting arms of security. Mack was the guy to lower her off the stage, so Roxie had no choice but to walk past a confronting Kyne.

  “Did you like that dance?” Roxie asked Kyne as she strutted like a proud peacock. “AK sure as hell did.”

  Kyne twisted her face as if wanting to say something, but bit her tongue. Roxie, shocked at the response and feeling emboldened by it, got about two steps further before suddenly and unceremoniously falling face first onto the dance floor. I looked down to see Kyne quickly withdrawing her foot from where it had accidentally caused Roxie to trip. The impact startled most people, who had begun laughing by the time they helped a dazed Roxie with the now dirty dress back to her feet and off the dance floor.

  With an exaggerated shrug, Kyne looked at me and said, “Hey, accidents happen.”

  35

  “Alright, y’all! Listen up!”

  With those words, Akhet had silenced the audience. We had just come off the high of the performance and it looked like the finale was at hand. Akhet looked through the smoky haze that was beginning to fill the place as the few people he cut his eyes at ended their conversations abruptly.

  “Tonight’s a special night, y’know,” he continued, his voice taking on a hushed, reverent tone. “Not just because it’s my birthday, but because all of y’all are here with me.” The crowd erupted in a chorus of cheers.

  “Y’all got my back?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Y’ALL GOT MY BACK?”

  “YEAH!”

  Akhet paced for a second. “Good, good. Y’see . . . tonight’s a special night for another reason. Y’see . . . this is my last night with On-Phire Records.”

  “What?” Kyne asked in astonishment. The room took on a strange mood as everyone asked the same thing, but each with their own reaction. The most interesting reaction came from the On-Phire camp as they looked dumbstruck and began arguing out loud with one another. Even Melvin had lost his cool and looked like he wanted to slap Jason North and plant a bullet in Akhet. But they still weren’t prepared for what was to come.

  “Here,” Akhet said, snapping the medallion from around his neck. “This is for you, motherfuckers.” With a dull thud on the carpet, the symbol of the hottest record label in town landed at Jason’s feet.

  Now, pointing to the crowd, Akhet spoke again. “And this is for all y’all!”

  Although as stunned as everyone else, the DJ hit the song right on cue. Akhet was ending his show on his first big hit, the song that changed the landscape of rap in the Dirty South, “Player Hater.”

  The familiar call and refrain began.

  “Yeah, I’m a player hater!” AK led.

  “I hate YOU!” the crowd responded.

  Akhet turned from the crowd and began addressing his embarrassed former associates with the lyrics. The crowd got into the festivities, and with each refrain, their outstretched arms pointed in unison at Jason and his entourage. Some of the other rappers affiliated with On-Phire began slowly dispersing into the crowd, as they wanted no part of the ridicule t
hat was taking place at their label’s expense.

  Over the chanting that got louder and louder, Jason could be heard screaming at the top of his lungs to Akhet. Akhet just continued with his lyrical tongue-lashing and even threw a middle finger up in their direction. Enraged at the disrespect, Melvin emerged from the shadows he liked to dwell in. He hurled himself at the stage, but was held back by a few of the other partygoers who didn’t know who he was. They soon found out as Melvin beat them silly without breaking a sweat. With the way cleared, Jason North tried to regain some control. He barked out commands to the entourage; with Melvin leading them, they lunged onto the stage.

  “Oh, hell no.” I grabbed Kyne to get her attention. “Run. Get out of here now.”

  Akhet dropped his mike to meet the wave of bodies that was now flying at him. I leaped past Mack, the security guy, to help my friend. Mack and the rest of security had their hands full anyway as the audience erupted into a series of brawls and had begun attacking them. On stage, the odds were about eight to two against us as I started swinging on anyone who wasn’t Akhet. Amidst the flailing bodies and pounding fists, I saw Melvin and Akhet locked up like two big bulls battling for supremacy inside a pen. Akhet was no little guy, but he seemed to be swallowed up by all the bodies trying to bring him down. I wasn’t doing too well until I managed to snag a mike stand.

  With a firm grip, I came up swinging wildly. Two guys I recognized felt the metal across their faces first as I lashed out in anger. One fell off the stage. The other dropped to one knee, holding his jaw. Some of the others backed up as they tried to find a way to get to me without suffering the same fate. The floor was now covered with blood, sweat, and teeth.

  “Say something now, bitch.” Melvin was out of breath and wheezing, but still managed to utter those words as he reached into his jacket. Akhet was being held down by some of the henchmen and looked barely conscious as I started maneuvering to get closer to him. Off the stage, I saw Kyne. She stood out as one of the few people who was neither fleeing nor fighting. She hadn’t listened to me and was in tears as she watched what was going on in horror.