“I blame it on the model broad with the Hollywood smile
Stripper booty and a rack like wow, Brain like Berkeley
Met her at Coachella, I went to see Jigga, she went to see Z Trip, perfect
I took a seat on the ice cold lawn, she handed me a ice blue bong, whatever”
(Chanel)
Chanel’s body moved seductively through the club, like every Friday night she found herself back here like all of the other girls. At first it was to protect her dad, you’ll hear more about that later. But then she actually started to enjoy it, it satisfied her needs and the cash flow was amazing. I guess I’ll let you in on her past. Growing up, she didn’t really have any grownup figures to look up to. For the first 4 years of her life her grandmother raised her while her mom sold her body every nightfor 10 dollars and a fix. At age 5, her grandma died forcing her mother to raise her own child. She never really was close with her dad, in fact she could probably count on one hand all the times they’ve actually had a conversation. Rome, her father, was a big drug dealer who owned the streets until his brother, Rock got out of prison. Rock took over the game, shutting Rome down. It was then that Rome needed Chanel’s help, if Chanel danced in Rock’s club for 2 years then he would spare Rome his life. So, she agreed despite the fact that she never really knew the man plus she needed the money for college and to support her mother and brother. But now, Rock won’t let her go. Now, her life is on line.
“Damn ma, you thick as fuck! Lemme get a private dance.” A deep voice whispered in her ear. She sighed turning around. “Sorry, that’s not my job tonight.” Tonight she had to go on stage, tonight she had to dance. She hated getting the job of private dances, men never respected the ‘no touching’ rule Rock set up. Dancing onstage was so much better, she could get up there shake her ass, pick up her cash and get on with her night.
“Fuck you mean its not your job? You’re a stripper hoe.” He spat grabbing a handful of her ass. Chanel rolled her eyes, “Like I just said it’s not my job, and if you don’t let go of my ass I’ll have Rock come down here and ask you himself.” Just the name alone made him let her go, and take a step back before apologizing repeatedly.
“Chanel there you are! I’ve been looking for your ass all over the place!” Sugar, another dancer yelled walking up to her. “Hi Sugar, what’s up?” Chanel questioned tiredly.
“Loca is sick tonight and Rock told me to tell you that you need to move your set up.”
“Okay, to when?” she asked, she usually walked around the floor giving random lap dances and taking all these niggas money for at least an hour before her set. “Right after Cookie.” Sugar answered.
“Damn, okay.” Chanel responded looking up at Cookie on the stage, her song was close to ending meaning Chanel was going to have rush backstage and get ready.
And that’s how it is, another Friday night in Chanel’s world.
The feeling of loneliness surrounded her as she stepped into her house. “Honey I’m home!” she yelled out mockingly. She flipped on a few lights and tossed her large nike duffle bag on the floor, watching it slide across the kitchen. She padded over to her phone and pressed the voicemail button.
“NO NEW MESSAGES”
(King)
“Fuck.” King cursed tossing the stack of papers to the side of his desk. Kai’s case was taking him longer than he thought it would and on top of it all he had skipped dinner last night and only had time for a bagel this morning. His stomach rumbled shouting at him that it’s time for some lunch.
