Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Tattoo Party

"Mane, I'm sweating! My face feel hot like my makeup melting off. Do I look shiny?"

"You glowing li-"

"You look like Rudolph, bitch," Moriah yells over the music, cutting Jainayah off.

"I asked Jainayah, patchy. I already know I look fuckin shiny," I yell back, irritated. Moriah ass mouthy as usual. That's why she got a bigass white bandage on her arm. Who gets tattoos at a house party? "It feel like my glue sweating off like my lace lifting right here," I point tilting my head to Jainayah who looks closely but their crossfaded asses can't and ain't trying to really see shit. "Where the bathroom at."

"Ask one of Viche boys," Moriah yells, turning to drop with her hands on her knees to whine.

The house ain't but so big. Turning, I'm bumped by the wide back of this tall nigga whose just backed into me while getting whined on.  "Move out the way!" I have to push his big ass up off of me because he's acting like I'm not standing here. "Move. Move!" 

All these funky ass people up in the way. I'm upset now. I'm already hot and tired and I have to push past them because they still tryna dance. Somebody perfume smell good as fuck but I also smell somebody ass right now, I just don't know whose.

I poke my head into the kitchen and there's about four women and three niggas there congregating around the liquor.

"Where is the bathroom," I ask to no one in particular but one guy with a sandy blonde fro hawk points behind me, red cup in his other hand.

"Back down that hall, first door is a closet. Second door is a bathroom."

"Say no more."

The music is loud as hell now that I'm not dancing to it and I know.. I KNOW I was just over there for five songs throwing ass, but whoever owns this house is acting like they don't have neighbors when the houses are close together, like almost connecting. There are like ten different neighbors who could be opps itchin to bust some shit and people are all throughout this house! In the kitchen with the liquor...  and out on the lil side deck playing pool and beer pong.

"I'm in here," a muffled voice yells through the bathroom door when I knock. The toilet flushes twice and suddenly I don't want to go in there.

"Who doing tattoos," a girl asks and when I turn back she's talking to a girl with a white bandage over her boob under her clavicle.

"It's this fine nigga," she gushes brushing her fingers lightly over the bandage.

"Hurry up," I sigh knocking on the bathroom door. There's another flush. Tapping my foot, I look down at my glittery silver strappy heels. I could've saved these shoes, but I thought I'd see someone fine tonight. Maybe I'll see what this tattoo artistè look like.

"Move," I warn pushing between two bitches to make my way upstairs. It smells like boodussy and weed.. But I want some weed though.

There are like ten guys and three girls in a bedroom room playing GTA with a bigass dresser mirror on the wall. A few  look up when I walk in but then their attention is back on the game and they're talking. There's a joint sitting on a dish on the dresser that no one's smoking. Pulling a kleenex from my bag, I blot my face and trash the brown tissue before checking the perimeter of my lacefront to make sure it's still laying. "You're welcome," I point after spritzing ten pumps of A Thousand Wishes in the air to take away some of the smell. A few snickers and a thumbs up. Mhm. I snatch the joint from the dish and put it in my bag since no one's paying attention and walk out with a case of the giggles.

Ah shit, someone done started playing City Girlz downstairs and I'm missing it. I start to head back down, already dancing, but there's another room and I'm nosey so I fix my jacket and I walk in.