You Got My Soul (Bryson Tiller)

By Chance

(Rakeem in the mm)

The car ride was uncomfortably silent. I racked my brain for things to say to break the silence.

"Rakeem, where are we going?"

"The Play," he answered. "One of the hottest clubs in Louisvillle."

"Oh."

Rakeem clenched his jaw. A couple seconds passed.

        "So," I started, "I heard that this car has a killer sound-system. Is that true?"

I looked at all the buttons, pretending to be interested. So far, the night wasn't going well.

"Hell yeah, listen." He turned on the radio and cranked up the volume.

...start reminiscing, yeah,
Next time around, fuck, I want it to be
different, yeah,
Waitin' on a sign guess it's time for a
different prayer-

"Goddamn," Rakeem shook his head in disgust as he lowered the volume. "I swear to God this Tiller-nigga everywhere I go. Louisville be playin' his shit 24/7. As if they don't got no betta artists that come outta the 502."

"Really? I kind of like him. That song Don't was playing on my way over here, it was really good." I responded. Rakeem just shook his head. I reached over to turn the knob. "What song is this? It sounds--"

I felt long fingers close around my wrist and shove my hand back to me before I could touch the knob.

"It's called Exchange."

*********

The Play was SUPER crowded, and I had a feeling it wouldn't be as much fun as Rakeem made it out to be. We were nearly at the door, and line behind us stretched around the corner. About ten people stood in front of us, but the line was moving pretty slow. I reached into my pocket and felt around for my phone, but it wasn't there.

        "Baby," I said as I fished through my bag. "I think I left my phone in your car. Can you unlock it for me?"

        "Uh, yeah." He pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car, which was parked across the street.

        "Thanks." I jogged over to the car and opened the door. I looked around for my phone and founded it in the cup holder. Relieved, I pulled down the passenger mirror to apply my lipstick. A little sheet of paper fell into my lap.

  Watch yourself, lil nigga. This a dangerous biz. Check the glove compartment. That's an extra 10 grand for ya.
          -Dominic

       
        I shakily opened the glove compartment. My breathing hitched when I saw a big bag of white powder, stacks of cash, and a shiny black gun. I blinked. There had to be at least $50,000 in there, and if the bag of white was what I thought it was, well over $70,000.

        My palms got sweaty and my stomach churned. Suddenly, I had second thoughts of even returning to the club. But I couldn't stay in this car. Where would I go? I decide to go back to the club and see if Rakeem would take me back to the dorms.

        As I walked back, however, I realized that Rakeem wasn't in line anymore. I also notice that the people in the front of the line were the same people that were behind us.

        "That son of a bitch went in without me." I muttered to myself. I walked to the front of the line and tapped the bouncers shoulder. "Um, excuse me? Hi, um, my boyfriend and I were here a couple minutes ago. I went to his car real quick and it seems that he went in without me. So can I just--"

        "Listen, lady, you gotta wait in line just like everybody else." He crossed his arms in front of the entrance.

        "But I was just in line for 45 minutes!"

        "Lady, please." He pointed towards the end of the line, which wasn't even in sight. My shoulders slumped as I walked past the people who were once behind me. I felt defeated, but then a strong, hand grasped the inside of my elbow.

        "Baby, there you are. I just let this woman go in front of me, I didn't leave you behind!" He laughed. This was not Rakeem. This man was tall, dark, and handsome. His Nike cap was pulled low over his head, and his black t-shirt clung tightly to his well-defined torso. "Babe, you good?"

        "Y-Yeah I'm...I'm good...babe." I caught on.

        The bouncers eyes widened as he stepped aside. "Well,  I didn't know she was your girl, Bryson! Come on in you guys. I'm really sorry, miss."

        "Just forget about it. You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood." I stuck my nose up into the air as Bryson pulled me into the club.

        "Whoa, chill wit all dat, he believes us already." He laughed. He almost had to yell. The music was so loud and we were still only in the hallway.

        "Oh, yeah...sorry," I blushed. "I just got way too into it."

        "I saw." He chuckled.

        "Yeah. Oh, thanks for getting me in. I need to find my boyfriend because I'm not really down to go clubbing." I started to walk away, but Bryson fastened his grip on my wrist.

        "After all the theatrics and everything?" He licked his lips and pulled me back to him. "What's ya name, ma?"

        "K-Kiana..." I stuttered.

        "Dance with me, Kiana." He whispered into my hair. I felt myself tense when his hand fell from my wrist to my waist. Honestly, I wanted to dance with him. I really wanted to. I was just completely terrified of what Rakeem would do to me if he saw.

        "Bryson, I don't think that's a good idea." I said, but he had already dragged me to the dancefloor. It was packed. Numb by August Alsina was blasting from the speakers. I took advantage of the moment and looked around for Rakeem. "Bryson, I really can't dance with you. My boyfriend--"

        My jaw dropped.

        "You see 'im?" Bryson looked around.

        "Oh, I see him." I seethed. I saw him, alright. I also saw the thot grinding on my man.

        "Where he at?"

        I pointed. "Gray sweatshirt."

        Bryson looked at Rakeem and frowned. He tugged on my hand. "Aye, let's get out of here, aight?"

         I felt tears well up in eyes as I followed Bryson out the back. He whipped out his keys, unlocking a silver Range Rover. I wiped my eyes and slid into the passenger seat.

        "Aye, baby girl, look at me." Bryson lifted my chin up with his long fingers. "Don't let that lame ass nigga get to you. He stupid as fuck if he bout to let you go for some ho. You way too fine to be with a nigga like that, anyway."

       "Thanks, Bryson." I giggled through hiccups. It was silent for a couple seconds, but a good silence, the one where both people smiled about the same thing, but avoided eye contact. Well, almost silent. The radio was playing in the background, and I recognized the song almost immediately. 

        "Oh, do you know this song?" I turned the dial. "It's really good."

                   Pull up, skrrrt,
   Get in the ride, left hand is steerin',
        The other is grippin' yo thigh...

     Bryson chuckled and looked out the window. "Yeah, I know a thing or two 'bout it." ✨