𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐀

𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍

⚭

Kelada's uninterested eyes surveyed the crowd as she did a half spin on the chilled metal pole. Sunday's usually were the calmest at Onyx, but tonight seemed to be different. The money rained around her, the energy buzzed, and the DJ's set was especially lewd.

There must've been a special guest in the building tonight. She found the thought weird since Friday's and Saturday's usually booked guest appearances, but who was she to hate on somebody's hustle.

She was doing the same.

Her set ended and she scraped up her bills with the help of Ronnie, the two of them taking it to the changing room. Well, Ronnie passed her money off since male guards weren't allowed into the back rooms.

Kelada separated her tip-out after totaling her money, just itching to go home. She placed the rubber-banded bills in her bag, changing her clothes and having another guard, Ihram, escort her out to her car.

Per usual when she got off, the ride to her apartment felt like hours but in reality was only about twenty minutes.

Kelada grabbed her duffel bag, locked the doors to her Prius, and made her way into the building.

"Hey Rappie," She smiled to the night guard, who nodded in return.

The elevator couldn't get to her floor fast enough, her tired feet footing towards 1644 once the doors opened.

As always when she stepped into her penthouse, exhaustion draped over her 5'5 body. Repetitive as it was, Kelada enjoyed being a stripper. The money was good on busy nights, decent on the slow ones, and she enjoyed flaunting the body she spent years crafting.

Kelada dumped the duffel into the washer and ran it on delicate to get all the sweat and grime off of it. While that ran she took a shower in her glass panel shower, freeing her pores of sweat.

She debated on sleeping nude but decided to but on a baby tee and a pair of underwear. Kelada put her heap of money on low in the dryer before slipping into bed, almost instantly falling asleep.

⚭

"Thank you," The white woman said, grabbing her hefty Chick-fil-A order from Kelada's hands.

"My pleasure." She plastered her faux work smile across her features. Once she turned around, the smile almost immediately dropped as she made her way back into the kitchen.

Kelada felt like a failure in life. Cashier turned stripper at night, she wondered how she ended up in this position in life at twenty-three. When she graduated, she was voted to be most successful.

If only they could see her now.

"Kam, we need you to work a register. Last minute call-out," Her manager, John, explained.

She did her best to keep from rolling her eyes as she made her way to the registers, taking the station besides Lola.

The young women went through the motions as her mind was far off, imagining a future for herself that didn't include this franchise or that club.

"Ain't you supposed to recite my order back to me?"

Kelada focused her attention onto the man, giving all of his jewelry and designer clothing a once over with disinterest.

"You ordered a Chicken Deluxe with no tomato and pepper-jack cheese , a large fry, Mac and cheese, a frozen lemonade with four Polynesians?"

The male frowned his face up, "What you gotta attitude fa?"

Kelada sighed, "If you wanna pick a fight go to that Waffle House across the street. Otherwise pay for this meal and get out my face."

She could feel Lola staring holes in the side of her face but she didn't care. She was sick of people treating the Chick-fil-A staff like trash just because they were supposed to "have decorum."

Essentially throwing his receipt in his face — as well as she could with the material being flimsy — before turning to meet Lola's gaze.

"Why are you being rude to a customer?"

"It's unfair that people take their bad days out on us like we're not human. I don't care if this is Chick-fil-A, I'll flip allis this shit over like it's a Micky D's."

Lola only chuckled and shook her head at Kelada's antics.

⚭

Kelada unlocked the door to her mother's home, closing the door behind her and taking in the eerie silence.

She remembered being a child, there was always noise. Either something sizzling in the deep fryer, or a loud Football game on the TV, but there was always noise.

Now there was nothing but the distant beeping of her mother's heart monitor and the occasional footsteps from her caretaker, Pedé.

She made her way back to the master bedroom, still being taken aback by the sight of all the medical gear attached to her beloved mother once she rounded the corner.

"Hey Pedé, how is she?"

Kelada felt like a child as she sat in the bed next to her comatose mother, reminiscing about when her little socked feet would run down the stairs and into this very room during bad thunderstorms.

"Still no improvement. No decline either though." The slightly older African woman informed her. She only nodded in response, squeezing her mother's hand praying for any sign that she would respond.

"We're all waiting for you to come back Mommy. We love you so much, just know that okay?"

She wondered at times how her mother could ever be reduced to this, a vegetable with no signs of ever coming back to this plane. Ciyva was always a lively woman, full of laughter and sly remarks.

Kelada partially thought she'd only ever see her mother again in the next life. And while she tried to be optimistic about the situation, everyday it seemed like that possibility was getting closer and closer.