Sentiment
(noun)
sen·ti·ment ˈsen-tə-mənt
: an attitude, thought, or judgment prompted by feeling.
"You just don't look....safe." Essence said while sipping her drink.
"Naw, I only ain't safe for the niggas that hate me."
"But for you, I'll be...
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║Kela║ Wednesday 12:33 PM Miami, FL Prime Brunch & Bar Rooftop
Sitting at the table, I patiently waited for my best friend, Jakia to arrive. We had been close since high school and started working at the club right after we graduated at eighteen. She did bottle service too at G5ive. Jakia was all about her money, so she even stripped on the side and did lashes as well.
One thing about us, we barely made it out of high school. Growing up in the ghetto of Miami made it hard to find your way, especially when your parents barely gave you any attention.
We raised ourselves and ran the streets like crazy back in high school, always somewhere we shouldn't be. Most days we skipped school and the days we were present, we were more than likely fighting some hating ass bitch before 3rd period, ending up suspended before the school day concluded.
We were in all the clubs at sixteen with fake IDS, getting picked up and dropped off by men much too grown for us, just being fast as hell. We swore those activities were the definition of being "young and turnt", but a lot of that shit was really just reckless. Thank God for growth, I guess.
Jakia also has a son, Malachi. She got pregnant during our junior year of high school and ended up switching to an alternative school to graduate on time. Shit was tough back then but the bigger vision still fell through. Now we stay with a bag, live how we want and never missing out on an opportunity to get some kinda money.
I wasn't afraid to admit I had fucked plenty of the rappers that visited the club I work at. Don't judge cause anybody would do what they gotta do for that check bitch! I don't kiss and tell but most of these bitches favorites nut quick as hell. I do have a type though, and my type is rich niggas. They could be a rapper, a drug dealer or my personal favorite, NFL/NBA athletes. They were never stingy and lovee flying me out.
"Bestieeee!" I heard Jakia's voice squeal from behind me.
I turned to see Jakia with a wide smile, arms open as she walked over to me. She greeted me with a long hug before joining me at the table and getting comfy in her seat.
"Bitch, I missed you!" She exclaimed while grabbing onto my hand.
"Girl, it's been a week." I laughed and she rolled her eyes while laughing too. She always acted like we hadn't seen each other in months but that's why I loved her.
"How you been?" Jakia questioned me, "you good?" This was one thing I loved about me and Jakia's friendship. We always checked in on each other. The fact that we both worked in the club meant that shit could be dangerous sometimes. These niggas in Miami be crazy, they'll do anything for pussy so being a bottle girl or stripper, you gotta watch your own.
"I'm good boo, making money as usual." I cheesed, opening my purse to show her the messy collection of 1 dollar bills that crowded my bag.
"I know das' righttt!" Jakia dragged, sticking her tongue out while giving me a high-five.
