Bloom

12 | loser baby daddy

"People make mistakes! Y'all are there for me under the condition that I do what y'all say like I'm some lil' puppet."

"Gab, that's a fucking lie and you know it! If that were the case, we woulda been stopped fuckin' with you when you went back to this man the first fifteen times. Listen to me and listen to me well, that was strike two for Farad. Let anything else happen and I'm not sparing him. Keep your loser ass baby daddy away from me, deadass."

"How he gone stay away when you still live with mama and daddy and that's who keep Jamari, huh? Know your place! You don't have to like Farad, but he is more important to our child than you will ever be, okay? Jamari only has one mother and one father, let them be the ones to make major decisions in his life. It's already bad enough that mama them don't like Farad, now they gone hate him even more with you pushing this shit." She shakes her head bitterly.

"You really are a stupid ass bitch, I swear. You think that I'm the reason the family hate Farad? Not all the reasons I just listed a few minutes ago? You ain't gone be satisfied til that nigga fuck me, hit me, or kill me, huh? Or until Jamari gets seriously hurt? Or until I'm the one with the gun."

"Giselle, since you have nothing but foul ass shit to say about your nephew's parents — you know, the nephew that you claim to love so much, then maybe my baby would be better off at daycare, away from all this judgmental ass bullshit. That way you won't have to see nan one of us, including my baby daddy." Gabriella storms down the hallway and I'm on my feet in an instant, trailing behind her. She's squats down, aggressively throwing Jamari's things into his bag, huffing and puffing out her frustrations.

"So I say that I'm not gone tolerate harassment from Farad no more and your response is to take Jamari from away from me and the family?"

"No, dummy!" She stands abruptly and turns around to face me. "You keep runnin' your mouth and call yourself tryna check me bout what somebody else did. I'm done with all of this shit."

We're talking in circles now, just hurling insults and neither one of us is relenting to the other.

Jamari enters the room with his fingers in his mouth, eyeing us both curiously. I can see that our angry tones are starting to worry him so I pick him up, cradling him like he's the most delicate thing in the world because I know that Gabriella is serious. She'll do anything to protect Farad — even pretend like I don't have a bigger and better impact on her son's life than his own father does. Absolutely anything to put him before everybody else and there's nothing that I can do about it.

I put him down and head back into the living room, taking deep breaths to keep my resentful tears at bay. Watching her take my nephew out the door so spitefully hurts my heart more than she will ever know. Oblivious enough, Jamari smiles at me right before the door shuts.

"Bye, pooh."

Okay, I hate my sister and her taste in men.

**********

Friday, October 28 | 7:36 p.m.
Smooth Central - Poetry and Hookah Lounge

-

"Good evening, ma'am. What can I get for you?"
The bartender is dressed in all black and looks to be of Italian decent. His dark hair is gelled down and his face is cleanly shaven, showcasing his chiseled features.

"Hi." I smile politely. "I'd like an apple martini and the spinach artichoke dip please."

"Of course. Comin' right on up." He nods, placing a freshly dried glass back on a the rack behind him before grabbing a bottle of alcohol. His accent has hints of both Italian and southern black American influence. 

A woman with golden brown skin and freeform locs takes the stage, reciting poetry that details her struggles with physical and mental abuse. I vibe to the beat of the drums, selfishly comforted by the fact that I'm not the only one going through things and that other people have been through so much more.

My fight with Gabriella truly set the tone for the rest of the week. Although I'm happy to still be receiving orders, I think I've bitten off a little more than I can chew. My fingers hurt from the constant sewing and sticking myself, my room is full of fabric and supplies that I am rapidly running out of space for, and other junk has completely taken over because I just haven't had the energy to clean up. The rude customers at work have been taking a toll on me as well, but the thing that really sent me over the edge, is every single one of my apartment applications being denied.

To say that I'm sad is truly an understatement. I just feel so stuck, so lost, so alone, so unsure.

I didn't bother to call anybody to vent. Nadi is out with Mack, Cree is out with Lourdes, hell, even my parents had plans with each other and I wasn't about to burden anybody's Friday night with my woes.

Everybody has somebody except for me.

The woman takes a bow just as the drummer finishes his solo and exits the stage, both of them receiving a hefty applause from the crowd.

"Chyna. Chyna. Chyna." A few voices chant and she blows a kiss with one hand, placing the other one over her heart. She's wearing a long forest green skirt with a white crop top underneath an oversized jacket.

I absolutely adore green. It's easy to incorporate in almost every outfit and decorative space because it shows up beautifully on all skin tones, and objects no matter the season. Hands down one of the best colors in the universe.

"Here you go, beautiful." The apple martini is placed in front of me and I take an unladylike gulp, not bold enough to order a strong drink but still hoping that this soothes me in some way.

"Thank you."

Another woman takes the stage, microphone in hand and a familiar beat sounds through the lounge. Her voice is light and airy, almost freeing but it's the lyrics that sends me further into the depths of my mind. I feel surrounded by darkness and beauty simultaneously.

"I tried to drink it away. I tried to put one in the air. I tried to dance it away. I tried to change it with my hair."

Her bleached blonde hair is buzzed, a dyed red rose design etched onto her right side of her head. She's gorgeous with dark brown skin and shaved eyebrows — unique in her own style. I take a long blink, swaying lazily as she continues to sing "Cranes in the sky."

"I tried to work it away, but that just made me even sadder. I tried to keep myself busy. I ran around in circles, think I made myself dizzy."

Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks but I don't let them, squeezing my eyes tighter and lowering my head, ashamed to be so visibly distressed in public.

"... or cry it away (don't you cry it baby) away. Away, away, away, away, away."

"Relax, everyone gets denied. Everyone falls down. Everyone has bad days. It'll all pass and you will be okay, Giselle." I whisper so lowly that I don't know if any sound actually left my lips — so weakly that I don't even know if I believe what I'm saying. Taking a deep breath and mentally counting to ten, I open my eyes and finish my drink with another generous gulp, desperately trying to direct my attention back to the stage.

Please, let me be okay.