I took down the yellow leather jacket from the closet and rested it on the bed. Earlier, I had taken Rayuga shopping after we left the photoshoot so she could get something yellow as well and she ended up finding a yellow blazer. All of Pep's suits were custom made and so were the few that I had since being with her.
I was still dripping wet from the shower I just took with my towel loosely wrapped around my body. I completely dried myself before putting on my undergarments and rubbing cocoa butter oil into my skin. I had done my hair before I left the bathroom so now it was in a fresh and juicy wash and go, I stood facing the mirror lost in thought. My fingers brushed across the fully healed stab wound in my thigh and with a sigh I pushed the menacing thoughts to the back of my mind.
I wasn't completely blind to all of this, I knew how shit worked. I watched enough movies to know that no matter how much the pimp favors you, you're still just another one of their hoes. I still fucked to bring money in and I knew that if shit hits the fan and we stopped getting the current income then I might just get forced on my knees in front of a man and I wasn't about that life. It was just business, right? Of course it wasn't just fucking business. I wasn't popping pussy like the rest of them, all I could rely on right now is favoritism so I might as well take the shit I get because it keeps me wrapped in her arms while the others are out there working the streets, club and the houses.
I finished lacing up my white suede Clark's and got up brushing down my white shorts. I tugged on the hem of my white button down shirt before pushing my arms through the leather jacket and bringing it up to my shoulders. I swiped at my nose- a newfound habit- before fixing the white bandana on my head.
"You got this." I said to my reflection.
"Niggas don't run this shit no more, it's you and it's Pep and y'all both women. Y'all gotta slit throats to make it to the top and to stay at the top." I mean mugged the shit out of the mirror.
I started pacing around the room whispering to myself, it was if I had gone clinically mad. I forcefully pulled out the top drawer and lifted the makeshift bottom feeling around for the bag of cocaine that I hid there. I dragged it forward with my forefinger and picked it up with a smile. I emptied it out on the top of the chest of draws and took out a banknote and Pep's black card from my wallet to make small lines. I rolled up the $100 bill and placed it at my nose then took one big draw pulling the coke up my nostril, I took the other two lines and groaned as the drug took over my senses. My whole body was growing numb and my lips cracked into a semi-permanent smile, I loved this. I loved feeling high. I didn't know that I got addicted to things easily until I tried coke or maybe I always knew; I always took a little too much medicine because I knew it would make me sleep and when sleeping pills didn't do the trick when I wasn't ill, I went right back to the cough syrup. Who wouldn't be addicted to sleeping aids? Sleep was the only peace I ever got in this life.
Through my lucid consciousness, I heard a horn sound off downstairs- Sima was here. I released the fierce grip I had on the chest of drawers and staggered downstairs with everything in hand. I emptied the glass of water I had left on the coffee table and locked the door on the way out. Sima could tell that I was faded so he didn't try to strike up any conversation with me and for that I was extremely glad.
"Have the girls arrived at the club?" I asked Razor over the phone.
"Yes, boss. Waiting on you."
I disconnected the call afterwards and let out a loud sigh. Pep didn't call. I really do miss her, she was my light in this dark ass situation. She made me feel things I've never felt before, I felt safe despite her being who she is. She was my savior and she saved me from so many things that I cannot begin to thank her for and even though she brought unease into my life I understood how her type worked; there was no good without the bad.
