Friday, October 12

The night of the party...

I gave a good solid knock on the weathered metal screen door. It rattled like a disposable tin baking pan, and the bottom corner was bent out like someone had kicked it. I took a step back as a couple moths dipped down in front of my face and fluttered to the bright LED moth trap that hung over the rock bed by the foundation of the house where they were zapped and tortured before falling to their death. Music blared from inside. The switch for the doorbell was hanging by wires. Probably not safe. I didn't want to wind up like the moths. I knocked again and the door swung open.

Maddison was standing on the other side wearing baggy sweat pants and a tank top. She was large in stature and she had one eye that turned inward. Everyone called her Mad-Eye which she hated. She was the only girl to work for Will's construction, and from what Colton told me she did a damn good job. She could carry twice the amount of wood compared to the other workers. She blocked the entry like a brick wall. "Password?" She asked over the noise.

The password changed for each party. I couldn't remember what Colton had texted me. I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through messages. "Time to spill the tea," I read.

Maddison pulled the door open and I came in. The lights were always dimmed, I supposed it made it difficult to see how messy the house was. To the left there were eight older men sitting around a dining room table gambling under a chandelier made out of recycled wine bottles. To the right there was Will, Erik, Mateo, and Aiden sitting on a modular sectional watching Josiah rap. Colton stood with a mic adding lyrics to the background.

Maddison came to stand behind the sectional.

Rapping was something that united them after Corona virus shut down the clubs. Even though group get togethers were strictly prohibited they didn't care. It was their way of saying fuck off to social distancing and they weren't afraid of dying from a virus.

Colton told me when they first started, they used to rap to Karaoke. They were great imitators. It was their dream to become like Dr. Dre, Eminem, Snoop Dogg, or other famous rappers who were legends, old gangsters, who had made it into money and power despite coming from poverty and racking up police records. They realized karaoke rap, about someone else's life, wasn't going to make them famous. They needed a narrative of their own lives to make it happen.

They began experimenting writing their own lyrics with their own life experiences and mixed it to the rhythm they put together on a rap rhyme app. They supported each other in liking each other's songs until they had a long list of followers, although, sometimes it seemed like a competition. Who had the most followers? Who had the most votes?

Colton categorized the songs he wrote into certain categorical subjects. There were songs about money, getting drunk, smoking weed. Songs about making trouble, and songs about lusty big booty babes.

There were songs that introduced a new rapper, like Snoop Dogg's Who Am I (What's My Name), and Eminem's My Name Is. Even though these songs had a silly undertone the purpose was clear; listeners wanted to feel like they knew who was singing. In the rap world they want to have a connection to the rapper, not just hear a good song. The more personal the songs were, the more popular they could become, or so Colton believed.

Josiah rapped in the mic, "...the policeman did more jobs than he was hired for. He was the officer, the judge, the jury, and the headsman. He shot my father in his car over a traffic violation. I was ten years old and watched my father die. By the time the ambulance arrived he was cold and all I could do was stand by. Just like George Floyd my father's six feet under.

"Another black man goes down. The policeman still around. How many more black men he gonna knockdown?

"My cousin walking downtown passed a bank when suddenly he's jumped by four policemen who broke his face for matching a description of a "scary black male" that robbed the place. Guilty before proven innocent. Booked behind bars for days. Lost his job. Finally released when video proved it wasn't him.

"Another black man goes down. The policeman still around. How many more black men he gonna knockdown?

The music ended and I had chills from the power of his heartfelt words. The room was full of cheers and clapping. As his rap ended and Josiah passed his mic to Mateo and sat on the couch. Another beat began and Colton began to rap with Mateo by his side. "I was fourteen years old when my dad said son, the rents past due and your ma's gone. I need you to help me with a side hustle."

Mateo repeated, "hustle, hustle."

Colton rocked forward, back, and paced the floor, "We rented a truck and followed UPS, grabbing packages on doorsteps. Reselling it. Business was booming."

"Our wallets were so fat we had to store cash in a five-gallon jug. Not bad for a new thug. But cops started showin' up so my dad said, son time to start a new hustle."

Mateo repeated, "Hustle, hustle."

"My dad had a new scheme. We added stolen phones to our resume. Jailbreaking them and advertising on Craig's list- ten a day. We were tycoons making five grand a week.

"Our wallets were so fat we had to store cash in a five-gallon jug. Not bad for a new thug. But cops started showin' up so my dad said, son time to start a new hustle"

Mateo repeated, "Hustle, hustle."

"Dad opened a massage parlor. Fifty dollars for a half hour. I was collectin' the Franklin's smoking' a joint when one girl said Colton, give me ten minutes I can make you holler. OH!"

Colton hovered his hand over his gaping mouth as others on the couch echoed his "oh". The chorus came again and he pulled a wad of cash from his back pocket and fanned it out. It had to have been something around one hundred, hundred-dollar bills.

I was shocked by the sight of them. I scanned the room to see everyone's reaction to the thick stack. Mateo's eyes widened, Mad Eye raised her eyebrows, Aiden smirked, Will did a double take, Erik sat straighter, and Josiah stiffened.

The people playing cards at the table hadn't been paying attention. Too consumed in their Black Jack game.

I had no idea where he would have gotten that amount of cash. He wasn't making much from Will's Construction. I hoped he wasn't slipping back into his former illegal activities.

After Colton's father was arrested, Colton was sent to Juvie. He was released after serving time to a foster home with nothing but the clothes on his back.

"Our wallets were so fat we had to store cash in a five-gallon jug. Not bad for a new thug. But cops started showing' up so my dad said, son time to start a new hustle."

"Hustle, hustle," Mateo repeated, then put down the mic.

The music faded and Colton set his eyes on me like there was no one else around. He strutted to me with a gleam of sexual determination in his eye. He rested his arms on my shoulders and gently, yet firmly, touched his lips to mine and thrust his tongue lavishly. There was emptiness between my thighs I wished he would fill.

As our kiss ended, I pushed my sexual desires aside. "Where did you get the money?" I asked.

"Babe, don't worry." His eyes were still flirtatious making it difficult to be mad.

As he stepped away, I noticed Erik had an uncomfortable eye on us. He looked away when he saw me notice.

Erik is a seventeen-year-old freshman. Yes, a seventeen-year-old freshman. He was held back twice. He's also Colton's foster brother. They share a bedroom and it's a tight squeeze from the way Colton describes it. There is only enough room for the bunkbed and a nightstand. All of their clothes are in a small closet and they get mixed together which irritates Colton as Eric is always borrowing his clothes.

Mateo started rapping again and his eyes were glued to Colton. This song was a lot less angry than his first. It had a laid-back vibe. The lyrics focused on a popping stripper with cash in her G-string and lots of expletives to describe her body.

We swayed to the beat. Why did Colton have to be so sexable? I bet this quality had gotten him out of trouble more than a few times. And his hands so poised and confident on my waist didn't disappoint. He knew how to handle my body, smooth and soothing. His experience evident by how natural it felt. Just looking at his face and being this close made me hot.

I'd always told him we'd better tone it down before we went too far and did something we'd regret, but not that night. I was ready to celebrate our one-year anniversary. I turned around and pushed my ass into his manliness until he grew rock-hard. He let a little "oh" out into my ear. His mouth and nose gently nuzzled my hair. He whispered, "you're so good."

He didn't mean I was good at being sexual. He'd told me before he liked me because I was a "good girl". I hated being called that, not that it wasn't true, but it seemed to mean that I was gullible, naive, or easy to pull one over on. I wasn't those things. I got fairly good grades and hadn't done anything illegal. Ok, I was a rule follower, but I wasn't perfect. I'd grown up fast because my mother was a drunk and someone had to take care of Tyler. If I'd never been born who knows what would have happened to him. I didn't argue and say I wasn't good because that would ruin the mood.

I ground my ass into him harder to prove I wasn't a good girl.

Erik and Aiden stared at us.

I turned and whispered in Colton's ear. "Let's go upstairs."

He glanced at the others in the room, then back to me. "No, let's wait until we get to the lake."

I was disappointed. I wished I could make him so horny by telling him we were going to have sex that he couldn't think straight until we did it. Why did guys in the movies act like they had an unquenchable desire until it was over?

"Can we go?" I said.

He nodded and pulled Will's keys to the truck from his pocket. "Fueled and ready."

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]