Taste Test (A Dave East Story)

Chapter 19

Dave

"...And shout out to my nigga East! This shit gonna be a movie. I'm talkin' Grammy nominations, BET awards and all of that good shit," Bully yells with his glass up.

Everybody in the room holds up glasses and cups to toast. I hold mine up and start howlin' while everyone around me cheers.

My album drops tomorrow and I'm happy as hell. We worked hard on this joint and Imma finally show the world this dope ass project. I really be spittin' my shit. Damn I miss Shooter. This nigga was supposed to be here wit me, sharin' moments like this and shit.

I throw my shot back and point to Bully, "My fuckin' dog."

Everyone cheers and drinks while the music starts back up. I look around the room and it feels good to know it's people out here supportin' me. Everybody here fa me— Moms, pops, all of my boys. Rest in peace Shooter and Freaky. Shit still don't feel real.

The girls are with Mills' sister for a few days. Neither of us have heard from Milly in a few weeks and at this point I don't give a fuck. She gone always have access to her kids, but it's like her ass don't even want it. I love my seeds to death and shame on her for leavin' 'em.

"I'm so proud of you son," my mother says into my ear as she wraps her arms around me.

"Thanks ma," I hug her back.

"Where's Kennedy? Is she coming?" She asks me before looking around.

"Nah she's busy tonight," I shake my head.

I look at my watch and it's a little after 1 am. Kennedy had a busy night and she should be done by now. She set up a dinner for an after party and she also had to go  back and break it down when they was done. I wanted her to be here, but I know she has to work hard to build her empire.

I mingle and speak to a few people while taking shots. Before I know it, I feel the liquor kicking in fast enough for me to call Kennedy. That's all I want right now, her body on mine.

"Hello?" I say loudly, trying to talk over all the commotion on my end.

She's saying something, but I can't really hear her. I move into the hallway real quick to see if that works better.

"Hello?" She says.

"Yeah wassup ma? You hear me?"

"Yes, can you hear me?" She asks.

"Yeah I can. Where you at? Did you finish up at the place?"

"Yes I did. I'm so tired and my feet hurt. I called myself being cute and wore heels tonight," she yawns.

"I'm about to come to your house. I'll rub ya feet baby," I say into the phone.

"That sounds so good right now, but you stay there. I don't want you to leave your party."

"Why? I would rather be wit you anyways."

The call drops and I quickly call her back and the shit goes right to voicemail.

"What the fuck man," I huff. I got half a mind ta throw this shit across the room, but that's just the liquor gettin' ta me.

"Hey, you alright?" I hear a voice behind me.

I turn around and see a woman that I've seen around the way before. Her face caked up with makeup, hair straight down her back. A spanish girl with a black girl ass that she definitely bought in a basement somewhere.

"Yeah I'm good," I assure her.

"Congratulations on your album. I'm so ready to hear it," she smiles.