Micah Maisonet is GSU's big shot on campus. He's not just the star quarterback, he's a young man with confidence as big as the world on his shoulders. However that confidence is quickly challenged, when Micah is hurt in the middle of his senior year...
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Hosting at The Dove was easier than I had initially imagined - my anxiety being the key factor in if I wanted to take on a full time job as a show host in addition to performing the open mics on Sunday's.
While I always thought I was tolerable to a crowd - sure, I had supporters like the next creative, but I was no Alysia Harris - it seemed like the crowd had been taking to me and even began to really laugh at my jokes after a few of my first nights.
All except Emory of course, who was hating his ass off. He still couldn't get over the fact that I had sent him back to the streets yet again, and in the words of my mother fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, good luck if I ever look your way again. Which just happened to be one of my new life mottos, seeing as though I hadn't even looked Emory's way tonight but I could feel his eyes daggering into me.
Even Micah commented, "See why I had to invite myself tonight, otherwise he would be all up in your face."
Giggling, I asked, "Are you jealous?"
Micah flagged me, his attention on the vendor as he paid for our intermission snacks, "Jealous of what? I already stole his girl."
His clever snicker followed right behind my eye roll, "Boy you didn't steal anything. I was never his to began with." I muttered, trying to forget I ever even saw him as an option.
"Shit, that sounds even better." Micah shrugged as we headed back over to his seat. Seeing as though the one next to him had been filled, he placed me on his lap, continuing to converse with me before Jackson told me there was a five minute countdown until we had to be on stage.
"Go kill em." Micah gave my ass a slap the moment I stood up, making me feel all tingly inside and giving him a smirk that warned don't start. When I arrived back stage, Jackson handed me the sign-in sheet, my eyes traveling down to the next person on deck. Of course it would be him.
Emory surprisingly hadn't been hitting the stage as much, probably his little way of getting back at The Dove for allowing me to co-host when he had been trying to get put on for years, but he failed to realize that people actually had to like you for good things to be offered. Still, his little qualm was none of my business, and I pushed my personal feelings aside when I followed Jackson out to the stage.
As the DJ cut the music, a mix of Mary J Blidge's just fine sped up with some party beats in the background, Jackson turned to me, the mic close to his lips, "Let the crowd see you break it down Ms. Lovely, we know you got it in you. Probably was the first one in the circle at the dolla parties."
The crowd chuckled.
"Boy bye, we all know you were Dolla boy Jackson, woo-tangin with the best of them." I shot back, drawing yet another wave of laughs.
Jackson broke out in a few dance moves, getting even more of a reaction, before finally asking me, "Who do we got up next, Kayla?"
"Coming to the stage we have Ms. Wise, and on deck...Elite." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, instead exiting the stage as Ms. Wise took her spot at the microphone.
