She's Daddy

One: The Party

Shawne's POV

"This party lit as fuck yo!" Cleo, my best friend yells from beside me before moving her hips in an off beat hip bump and waving her hands like she just didn't care. I did.

"Boy calm yo ass down. I actually wanna look attractive to bitches."
I mean, I agreed with her about the littiness of the party but some things were just not to be witnessed by the eyes of motherfuckers that never signed up to tolerate your bullshit and her so called 'signature move' was one of them. She called it a double whip but it looks like she was holding out an offering to some deity and being electrocuted. Slowly. I still don't understand how any mudafucker could shake so badly while doing it so slowly as well. Cleo scoffs.

"Oh please. I don't need to try to pull females. They know I got it. You on the other hand." She smirks at me and I snorted. Like I wasn't the finest piece of premium shit on this side of planet earth.
"Bitch please. I'm the looks and brains of this operation. You just here to make sure nobody beat me up. Now cut that shit out. You look like someone put an eel in your pants and asked to to ride the back of a drunk kangaroo. Behave! There are bitches here." Cleo snorted "Bitch, they bitches everywhere."
"I know Cleopatra the Third." I smirk at the glare she shoots my way for using her full name. People really out here naming their kids with roman numerals but okay. "But some of these bitches practically naked!"

I find them out in the packed room with my eyes and they weren't hard to spot. For one thing, they walked around the room in very tiny bikinis and heels serving drinks and cocktails to various guests. Cleo laughs at my staring but doesn't reply. My gaze whips over to her when I heard the telltale signs of a lighter being clicked. Kinda like spidey senses being tickled. She's right there dragging on a blunt that I stare at with almost as much awe as I stared at the women earlier. Honestly, if I had to choose between weed, food and pussy... I suppose logically food would have to win but I dead ass could not imagine living without the other two. They mean so damn much to me. So, so much. I lick my lips.
"Yo Cleo─"
"No."
"Man C'mon─"
"No."
"You don't even know what I wanna─"
"I ain't giving you my weed mudafucker." I scowl at her and she gives me a deadpan stare. "Maybe next time you won't clown your bestest friend Cleo about her admittedly improvable but definitely cute dancing." She gives me a little glare. I sigh. So we were gonna have to do this the hard way huh? I stand there for a moment and let her re-spark her blunt. Before she could pull on in I swipe it from between her lips and held it triumphantly between my fingers.

"What the fuck bruh! Why the fuck would you do that?"
I shrugged "Yo ass was being greedy."
"And yours is gon' be kicked all the way down to Florida if you don't give me Shaniqua back!"

I snort at the latest name for her roll and take a deep draw. I love the first hit I get from a good blunt. That mild buzz that tingles at the edges of your mind as the smoke fills your lungs and starts your journey to being fucked up. I let out a stream of smoke into the air above our heads. Or above my head. Cleo was several inches taller than me at five seven, what she called normal people height so the smoke ended up more in her face. Instead of the angry outburst I was expecting, Cleo looked at something above my shoulder and her eyes unfocused. I turned my head to the side to catch this girl with a fat as hell ass twerking to the Tyga song playing out the speakers. For a moment, I too was distracted from my objective of getting high and irritating Cleo. It was what I liked to call an asstounding moment.
"Damn. When Chantel throw a party she do not play."

"That I don't."
I only just barely refrained from jumping at the voice that came up behind us but Cleo didn't and I took great pleasure in pointing and laughing at her ass. She just scowled at me and greeted the new comer with as much dignity as she could muster after flailing like a little bitch.
"Chantel." Cleo glanced at our host and did a quick double take. "Damn girl. You looking hella fine tonight."
I could not agree more. Chantel was dressed in some kind of flowing lavender kimono style robe tied loosely about her waist. A dark purple bikini flashed underneath accentuating her brown skin. Her thick curly hair was loose and framed her face. Chantel Browning was a fine as fuck but then everyone who had eyes already knew that. She also threw the best parties on this side of Atlanta. I've been in a club where YK Osiris shut the whole place down and I hadn't had as much fun as I usually did at one of Chantel's things. She was one of my more classier friends and by classy I mean rich enough to afford some things I could only still dream of. We'd gone to the same high school and even though we never really ran in the same circles we've always pretty much kept in touch. At first it was because of the whole 'only black lesbians in high school' thing but I dead ass like her energy and I guess she likes mine cause we see each other often. Not as much as I see Cleo though, that nigga pretty much lives with me. Chantel is a model (not surprising considering the nubian goddess look she has going for her) and she'd only just gotten back from an almost two month trip abroad. Cat walks and shows and shoots and things that blew my fucking mind.
Not for the first time, I wondered if I should change my line of work and start modelling as well. I do after all got a lot of that pretty boi vibe thing going for me and it definitely looked like it paid better than Wyatt's Automobiles. And yes, the place is as fucking pretentious as it sounds.
Chantel flashed her pearly whites at us and I felt Cleo shift beside me. I managed to hold back my smirk. Mostly.