When We Were Younger... (Book One) (MJ Fan Fic)

35~ Admirers

A/N: Okay, you guys can be angry with me
🥺 I had you guys wait a whole month for an update and I'm sorry! 😥 but I promise to get things back on track for you guys because this series just begun. We have a lot more chapters and books to go! ❤️

"Are you sure this is legal?" I hear Trish quiz just a volume higher than the bass thumping from the loud speakers which surrounded us along with a hundred other kids around our age.

There were so many people on the dance floor grinding and grooving to what sounded like an old Marvin Gaye tune but every time his voice would try to come in, a scratching sound was then heard as the break down started from the beginning all over again. There was a guy on a microphone screaming out god knows what as people cheered him on while continuing their dancing, if you can call it that. There was even what looked to be gang members stuck to each wall of the function, dabbing a random person up every five minutes along with a group of guys twirling around on the ground, potentially dirtying their close entirely.

"Of course this is legal." I hear Tyrone groan, still continuing to scope out the scene just as carefully as I was. "Can't you spot a party when you see one, girl?"

I notice Trish flash him a glare before muttering back, "Well, I ain't never been to no party like this so excuse my ignorance, jackass. Got people humping on each other, moving across the ground doing who the hell knows and some guy ruining a perfectly good Marvin Gaye record. And what the fuck is that guy up there shouting about like he some damn preacher who caught the Holy Ghost?"

"It's called hip hop." Tyrone makes known casually but me and Trisha look at him funny to the foreign word he used to describe the scene before us.

He had just grabbed my hand along with Trisha's, guiding us away from the entrance, just as I ask, "What's hip hop?"

That causes him to flash me a 'are you serious' look that made me glare back at him, sass written across my caramel face. "Listen! Don't you hear that?"

I roll my eyes even though I do as he says, trying to make out what the guy on the microphone was screaming but come out empty, so I shrug my shoulders to signal just that. I was completely lost as to what I was even witnessing right now.

"You telling me that you this big time industry writer and you never heard Hip Hop once? Not even when you were in New York? I heard the parties up there be slammin'!"

I shake my head to his questions and he shows his disappointment by running a hand across his face, groaning as if he was annoyed before extending his arms out, discreetly pointing towards the two guys up front. "This is Hip Hop. The best genre of music ever created."

"I beg to differ." Trisha mutters loud enough to have him rolling his eyes before continuing, "That guy up there with the microphone, he's called an MC. His job is to keep the crowd live, keep them partying. The guy behind him with the turntables, he's the DJ. He supplies the beat that the MC raps over."