Another Man's Treasure (Joey Bada$$ Story)

Part Cinque

Abigail and I finally settled on our outfits after almost wasting enough time to be late for the concert. It started at eight o’clock, and we’d only finished taking our individual showers at 6:30. After we got out the shower, Abigail changed her mind about what she wanted to wear, thus forcing me to change my outfit to avoid any clashing. By the time Sam got to the house, I was dressed in a white sleeveless shirt, a short blue-and-white patterned wrap skirt, blue sandals and a cardigan to match my shoes (in case it got chilly). Abigail wore a tight red, white and blue halter dress that read ‘LAZY’ across her chest, and gray-and-blue New Balance sneakers. When we were dressed and I stood explaining to Sam what to do with Latara and when to call me if I wasn’t home yet, she suddenly asked:

“Will the cleaners be at your house tomorrow again?”

I paused. “No, they won’t be.”

“So I come to your house tomorrow, right?”

Again, I paused, and now Abigail was tuned in to our conversation. I could see her glancing at us while she examined herself in the mirror.

“I’ll talk to you about it when I get back, okay?”

Before Samantha could ask any more wrong questions, I pulled Abigail away from the mirror and out of the apartment. She seemed to know exactly where the concert was being held despite her losing the flier they gave us the day we got them, so I followed her.

“Are you okay, Lee?” She asked me.

“I’m cool, why?”

“Well for one, you just said ‘cool’, and you’re sweating bullets.” She said. “Look, if you’re worried about the concert, it’ll be fine. Trust me, these guys are kind. There’ll be no shootouts or mosh pits. Just me, you, them, and some fun!” Abigail swung her arm around me as we walked down the street, and I’m sure people probably thought that we were a lesbian couple, but we didn’t care. She was excited to be going to a place full of good music and boys, and I was grateful that she was doing an okay job at keeping my mind off of my problems.

We got to the campus of Howard University, it wasn’t hard to find where exactly we should be going. Groups of boys and girls who looked like Pro Era was their kind of thing walked straight down a few blocks until we reached an open door in a different part of the campus, a building where I assumed things like concerts and plays were held.

“I told you we should have come late,” Abigail told me. “All the early birds are here and now we have to wait in this stupid line.”

“Aren’t you here to find a boyfriend? Maybe this is where you’ll see him.”

Her eyes lit up then, and she began skimming the people around us. I shook my head and moved up when more people were admitted in. Soon enough it was our turn. Abby took out her ticket money and I did the same, but before I could pay the pulled me away from the ticket booth, whose employee handed her two tickets.

“What was that about?”

“I paid for yours,” She said.

“Well take this. I can’t let you spend all that money.”

“It’s fine, Jamie, shut up,” Abigail dragged her words like a child. “Let’s get some drinks and then find a good spot.”

Although I didn’t want to drink first and then wait for the boys to come on (what if I had to pee?) I obliged. We were, ironically, the first ones at the bar, so by the time we’d been given our two bottles of Guiness there was a line behind us.

“Who’s opening for them?” I asked her as we fished our way through the grandiose space. There was a section to our right, up a few stairs, where one could sit in some leather red seats and eat while watching the concert. Half the place was already taken up, and it looked boring anyway. (Too sophisticated, said Abigail.) To our left was the bathroom, and next to it there were all the extremes you could think of, from double-hardcore hip hop fans to heavy-metal listeners who looked like they didn’t even know why they were here. As a result, we stayed in the middle of the auditorium to sip and wait.