Pretentious and misguided lawyer Leila discovers a new passion in her job when she is assigned to defend a sixteen-year-old boy for murder against the state. Unfortunately, what she presumes to be an open-shut case is more complex. The hottest rappe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Girl, fix your face!" Nina scolded.
"I'm too old for this," I scuffed under my breath as I tugged at the hem of my dress. The air was brisk and chilling against my exposed skin. I wrapped my arms around my body tight to preserve its heat. I stood beside my good girlfriend, Nina, in a line stretching around the block. She looked over at me and acknowledged my visible irritation.
"I thought you said we would do something fun tonight?" I hugged myself, trying to keep warm. I had called Nina that Thursday afternoon venting after a terrible meeting with the partners at my firm. They had unabashedly called out my lackluster performance in my last 2 cases. While I couldn't disagree, I could not afford to lose this job now. So, Nina's temporary solution to my shitty mood was to come out with her for the night.
"This is why ya ass is single now, don't never want to go nowhere." I sucked my teeth with a roll of my eyes at her unwanted commentary.
Nina's eyes were glued to her glowing iPhone screen. She had met a club promoter out working an event a few nights prior, styling one of her celebrity clients. Nina had just begun elevating her clientele at the salon. The fresh set of heads was opening doors for her on the red carpet and at other entertainment industry events. Jason, a big-time event promoter, had been checking for her and insisted she comes out to this club event he was promoting for some rapper. I had never heard of him; Nina begged me to be her plus one.
Ms. Nina never begged anyone for anything. But I would be lying if I didn't include that she was very persistent, despite my apprehension. She also knew that I had retired from the nightlife scene since our days in undergrad. So, I debated whether I was a good friend or a sucker for agreeing to come out with her tonight. Nina's phone finally flashed, which prompted her to look up from her screen.
"Jason," She smiled and waved. Jason was no more than five foot nine with broad shoulders and dreads sitting just past them, neatly braided back halfway. He smiled warmly, revealing his charming smile with perfectly aligned white teeth.
"Nina, I'm glad you made it through. Sorry I didn't come get y'all sooner." He embraced her and then comfortably grasped her hand. He took one glance at me and then nodded.
"What's up," He greeted. With both hands intertwined, he led the way, and I promptly fell into step behind them. At that moment, I accepted my role as the third wheel of the night. I followed them both into a club packed with ambiguous black women. Nina was giving full-on glam in her signature black lace front with soft curls that fell to the small of her back. Her hair was laid to perfection in a deep left side part.
Self-consciously I touched my fluffy TWA that I had attempted to glam up by laying down my edges. It stood out in the sea of Brazilian body waves and meticulously laid baby hairs. I touched on the diamond stud in my ear as a form of reassurance amongst a room of hyper-feminine women.
Jason led us inside through the crowd of people up some stairs to a room resembling the VIP section. The plush velvety red seats wrapped around the room's perimeter. A few people were dancing, but most were relaxed and casually smoking and drinking. I glanced over the people and surmised that this was not my crowd.
My eyes met the private bar to the far left of the room, and I took it as my queue to leave Nina and her date behind. I sauntered to the bartender, contemplating my drink for the night. It had been a long time since I last found myself out late at night in this setting, ordering a drink from the bar. The twenty-two-year-old Leila didn't hesitate for a cranberry vodka, but now thirty-two-year-old Leila couldn't stomach the idea. "Can you close the tab?" I asked as I reached into my pocketbook. The bartender slid my mojito toward me. "Miss, it's an open bar," he responded before promptly attending to the next person.
"Well, I'll be damned," I mumbled in glee. I took a large sip of my drink and shook my head in approval. Promptly, I turned around back to the bartender to order another. Now holding both drinks in my hand, I walked across the room to a space on the plush red cushion. I scooted through people, carefully juggling my drinks to avoid spilling them. The DJ had transitioned into Caribbean soca; the lively music brought many people up from their seats, dancing and gyrating to the eclectic beats. I had found myself swaying my hips to the rhythm as I inched closer to the spot on the couch I had seen from across the room.
Sitting on the couch alone was a man with his legs sprawled out. His black hoodie was cast over his head as he sat slouched on the cushion with a glass of brown liquor in one hand. From across the room, I could see him quietly nodding to the music. I politely walked across the room, conscious of my closed-toed heels that were too high for my liking. They went exceptionally well with my outfit but were excruciatingly painful to stand in longer than ten minutes.
"Um, excuse me," I said as I hovered over the man; he sipped his brown liquor while I balanced my drinks. His legs blocked the pathway between the cushion and the table. He remained still, looking off toward the group of bodies rolling to a throwback dancehall hit from the 2000s.
"Excuse me," I repeated more firmly, assuming he had not heard me. I was sure he had this time. Even if it was apparent I was standing there, he had yet to make eye contact.
"You know what," I said to myself, frustrated. I took one giant step over his left leg, and he jumped, startled by my actions.
"Fuck!" He jumped with surprise, jerking back his legs to sit up. I tripped over him as my foot entangled with his own. Both drinks fell from my hands as I gripped his thigh to keep from hitting the floor. The contents of one fell into his lap as the other hit the floor. I was boiling with anger, and his irritation only intensified my feeling.
"Shit!" He hissed, throwing his hands up in shock. His reaction caught the attention of damn near half the room. It was almost like it had halted, except the music vibrated through the floorboards.
"Yo, you good man?" I heard the bass of a man rush in from behind.
The grimace had yet to leave his face.
By this time, Nina and her date Jason had rushed to my side in horror. Jason swooped to the man's side, saying, "I'll get this all sorted out, man." He continued to offer his apologies.
"Girl, what happened!?" She whispered to my ear in a shout. The music was still blasting, so I am sure no one heard her but me.
I turned to her dramatically, rolling my eyes. "This dumbass was acting like he didn't hear me coming. He knocked me over and spilled my drinks."
"Girl, do you know who the fuck that is!?" She hissed. She tugged at my arm, pulling me into a huddle. I peeked behind my shoulder as he and Jason spoke back and forth.
"Not a clue," I responded unphased.
"Bitch! That's Kaanon, and this is his damn release party. You're about to get us kicked the fuck out!" She gripped my arm, blocking us from the rest of the commotion. "What are you even doing in his section?"
I glanced around, finally noticing the velvet rope sectioning off his couch. A wash of embarrassment instantly came over me at the realization. I noticed the people hovering around his section, watching the scene between us unfold. I turned my attention back to this Kaanon character.
"Look, I didn't know- "
He cut in mid-sentence. "Don't worry about it. Just stay away from me for the rest of the night, aight?"
At his request, I rolled my eyes deep into the back of my head. "You don't even have to worry about that."
