Black Ice

i

one | antonio

Darkness shrouded the atmosphere. Bodies floated rhythmically to a heartbeat that belonged to no one.

And then— like a pulse— light beams stabbed the dark as if yester-year's bullet wounds of the walls gave way to the sunlight of tomorrow.

The only difference was that we were nowhere near twilight, let alone daybreak. The night was young. Spirits were high. The walls vibrated.

All the while, the light carved a path for me. Its reflection made me shine, and such a glow only drew the eyes of snakes and servants.

Envy and lust charged the air, and when least expected, my name boomed as if I were next up to receive the verdict of my judgment day.

"Pretty Tony is in the buildin'! I see you, nigga! Iron Vacay is the shit!" the voice echoed, triggering cheers as the dancing roadblocks on my journey to VIP multiplied.

"Need You Tonight" blared while I played nice, sending nods of acknowledgement and smiles to those who stepped into my path.

When I finally bolted myself to a seat, I released a deep sigh, which admittedly did nothing to lift the anvil of regret that flattened any other emotion.

I was here with what was supposed to be a low-profile as I blew off steam and people-watched.

I wanted to see what was moving the clubs, but for whatever reason, when the DJ caught word of an artist's presence, they felt it necessary to broadcast it to the world.

All of the sudden, I had even more people flockin' to me.

I forgot I couldn't move around like myself anymore. Anywhere I went, a spotlight followed.

I'd grown so accustomed to laying low that I was struggling with being recognized so often, especially since I never know what kind of energy is coming at me.

Especially with what had happened to Shaan. To Will.

I should've taken our new head of security, Vic, up on his offer to roll with me tonight, but I wanted to just be me— Antonio— for this understated night at the club. Not the star, Pretty Tony.

Now that we had an album out, there was no difference anymore. Nowhere but home— nowhere but with the ones I loved could I be Antonio anymore.

It was a hard truth and a big adjustment, and I was struggling with the balance.

There'd be a fix for that soon, but all I could do now was nurse the growing pains with a band-aid.

And that band-aid came in the form of ice buckets and dark liquor.

I'd opted to have a couple of my cousins accompany me tonight. Besides, they'd been doing so well on the business front, according to Aim, that they deserved a night off.

So, I took it upon myself to make this a celebration of success, but now that "Pretty Tony" was here, any hopes of a regular night were dashed.

But that's a'ight— shit, it's got no choice but to be a'ight now— because now the women were glancing over, lookin' to choose up.

I watched them workshop their approaches and work up their nerve, and in the meanwhile, I drank Hennessy from the bottle and relaxed.

While a few women approached, giggling in my cousins' faces with eyes that screamed for my attention, I averted my gaze to the dance floor.

'Need You' blended into 'Sugar Hill'. Such a transition would be incomplete without the DJ's echoing enthusiasm. "Ohhh! Where my money makin' niggas at!"