Three: New Beginnings

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Shawne's POV.

I hate my job, is all I can think as the latest Karen to question me about my dress choices for “decent young lady’ walks away with her ugly ass nose in the air. Wyatt was lucky he paid well, I grumbled for like the millionth time since I started working here two years ago. Talking to people is the worst part about my job which is ironic as hell because I'm a car salesman... Or woman. Either way, I spend the entire day doing one of my least favorite things; trying to convince rich white people to trust me. Oh the price we must pay for the bread.

After she left, I headed to the back section of the garage where we kept the ‘mom cars’ so I could have some me time with my phone. I have a clear view of the main show room while being hidden from sight so I can pretend to work in peace. I lean back on a Subaru and fish my phone outta my pocket. There’s several texts but I only respond to a handful. I pointedly ignore those from Angie opening Cleo’s which asks to know what I want her to pick up for dinner and Chantel’s inviting me to some club's opening night. I text Cleo about Pizza (I may have an addiction, don't fucking judge me) and text Chantel a 'Hell no'. A minute later she was calling my phone. I rolled my eyes but picked up.

“What you mean hell nah?” Not even a hello. And mudafuckers called me rude.

“I mean exactly that. Hell. Nah. I ain't tryna party with you after what happened last time.”
She snorted. “Um, hello. It ain't my fault you did stupid and covered yourself in chilli sauce in front of yo girl. Charging at niggas like a bull and shit. You know for all your angry testosterone you might as well be a man.” 

“Fuck you bitch! Imma stay home and play Call of Duty with Buggarbuck889 on my Xbox.” Chantel's laughter rang in my ear.

“That's what you'd rather be doing? Playing video games with thirteen year olds instead of turning up muhfuckers your own age?”
“Um. Yeah.”
I peer over the car to make sure I'm not needed. “I'm working right now Chantel.”
“Oh come on Shawne. Some real ass people are gon' be there. It's gon be lit as fuck, tell me you ain’t tryna miss that!”
“I dunno ma─”

“Pleaseeeeeee?” She whines and I groan. “Bitch stop making me bed your dumb ass. Y’all muhfuckers ungrateful as fuck. I'm giving you all access pass to what's dead ass gon' be the hottest shit in town of Friday and you got the nerve to─”
“Okay! Okay! Jesus Christ! Shut up already. Damn.” She gave a little squeal and I yanked the phone away from my ear. When she spoke again her voice was all sweet and perky once more. Psychopath. I sigh.

“Where and when?”
I whistled when she told me the location of the club. “That some real swanky digs Chantel. Who this friend of yours? 6lack?” I'm only half joking because knowing Chantel, it could actually be. Bitch was so connected she might as well be a fucking extension. I’d met a ton of IG Celebrities and models through her. Musicians wouldn’t be that big a stretch.
“Nah although he could maybe show up if he's in town. Ion know. I’m not his calendar nigga. I did put the word out to every muhafucker down to party so trust me. It’s gon’ pop. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow at seven okay? Byee!” And with that she hung up, without answering my damn question!
I glare at my phone and consider calling her back to argue but my name is bellowed from the front at that moment so I rush out to handle business.

I didn’t think about the party until after work the next day. I’m dead ass standing in front of my closet for almost an hour looking for what the fuck I was gonna wear. I don’t usually bother but after the last ‘episode’, a nigga was feeling a lil bit insecure. I wanted to look cool and shit but not like I was trying to hard. I finally decide on some black jeans and a blue and white striped baseball shirt that totally match my white Nikes with their blue laces. I put on the most expensive jewelry I owned, a chain with an ‘S’ and a slim men’s watch and I was ready to ball. I was supposed to meet Cleo at the club and I’m already running late. Some part of me isn’t sure I should go at all, but hell. What else do I have to do on a Friday night? Maybe I could even find me a girl to bring home. I just hope to Christ Nae’s stupid ass wouldn’t be there to ruin shit. Even the mere thought of the flea-headed bitch made me scowl.

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