"Realize. All Eyez On Me. . ."
-2Chainz & 2Pac💋
Chapter 3:
Ariel
"Took y'all long enough." Brandy greeted Ariel and Paris as they pulled up in front of her building on 140th.
She had traded in her tennis skirt for a pair of skin-tight, black high waisted skinny jeans that were slashed just below the knees.
Her black open toe bedazzled ankle booties set off her black short-sleeve sheer crop top, making her look like one of Satan's rock star angels.
"Your lucky we came, 'dat backed up ass traffic almost made us change our minds," Paris said from the passenger side window as she playfully rolled her eyes.
She was dressed in a tight-fitting olive green spaghetti-strapped jumpsuit with black thigh-high leather lace-up open toe stiletto heels, with a black leather jacket and choker to match.
All of her curvaceous body stuffed into the fit, coupled with her fiery red hair pulled up into a high sophisticated bun and flawless makeup.
Ignoring Paris' comment, Brandy got in the backseat closing the door behind herself. She glanced at Ariel in the drivers seat, "Oow' bitch, look at you! I see you, Big Time!" she smiled at her friend, "You on your real grown and sexy shit fa'real, huh?"
Ariel just smiled. The faint dark brown highlights in her naturally long jet black hair shone slightly under the fading sunlight as she brushed a strand of it away from her face.
She was decked out in a military green cardigan jacket and a matching sheer fitted dress that showed her bra and cleavage but kept it tasteful.
A gold Michael Kors watch that Jarod had given to her a couple years back along with the 14-karat diamond gold studs hanging from her earlobes, giving her a model's appeal.
To cap off the fit, Ariel had donned a pair of Steve Madden nude strappy sandals exposing her French-Tip perfectly manicured feet.
"So, where we headed?" Paris asked, checking her makeup in the sun visor mirror as Ariel pulled away from the curb merging into traffic.
"Just a few blocks over in St. Nicks projects, but I thought we'd make a quick pit stop first." Brandy held up a pearled Backwood.
"You ain't even gotta' ask twice," Paris readily said.
"What about da' video?" Ariel asked switching lanes.
"Ari', they gonna' be out there for hours. Where we're going to smoke at is a block over from da' shoot," Brandy said.
"Aight, shit coo' with me. I need to get high anyways." Ariel made her way to Central Harlem as she cruised through the city streets, while Bartier Cardi by Cardi B played lowly in the background.
"Boo, you really do look bad as fuck fa'real," Paris complimented, glancing at Ariel's outfit.
"Thank you hun'! We all look bad as fuck though," Ariel replied smiling, returning the compliment to her girls as they agreed in a unison.
"You better not let Jarod see you on Two-Fifth in 'dat outfit though, he might snatch ya' ass up," Paris playfully stated making Brandy laugh.
" 'Dat nigga' can clown if he want to, you know how we do it in da' BK." Ariel gave Paris a high five, "I ain't fucking wit' son like 'dat no mo' anyway, never will you stand Ariel Lyrica mutha'fuckin Jones up and think you ain't gotta' pay da' costs. I know I'ma bad bitch," Ariel patted her chest for emphasis, "If Jarod can't see 'dat, then 'dats his loss."
"Spoken like a true G'!" Brandy chimed in.
"I know 'dats right," Paris amusingly said.
"Knowing Jarod, I wouldn't be surprised to see him up here." Brandy added.
"Well if he is there, I really don't care. Jarod is free to be wherever he wants, but he wasn't where he was supposed to be, so da' rest of 'dat shit is irrelevant." Ariel said in a matter-of-fact tone. The conversation was left at that.
*****
Jarod
Jarod stepped out of his condo and gave his body a good stretch. He had been sleeping like a baby until his cell phone had woken him.
His man Miami had been pressing him about coming to the video shoot all week, but because he had plans with Ariel he told him no.
Seeing how Ariel was dodging his calls and he didn't feel like being around Kelsey again so soon, he was free for the evening. It was time to hit the streets.
Miami was sitting in front of Jarod's building behind the wheel of a 2017 white Dodge Magnum, rolling a blunt.
He was a tall slim mixed Puerto Rican with individual twists that snaked down the sides of his face with his edges shaved and lined up.
Most people didn't know it, but Miami was his government name. His parents were notorious pot dealers who came up in the Florida era of good weed and better highs.
"Waddup' Miami," Jarod gave him dap as he slid into the passenger seat.
Miami passed Jarod the blunt and pulled the car into the street.
"Jarod, what's poppin' my nigga'? You ready to hit da' block?"
"Don't I look ready?" Jarod motioned towards his crisp black 501 Levi jeans and fresh blue
T-shirt, with a matching snapback and blue white&black Nike Air Ken Griffey Max 1 Varsity Royal sneaks, along with his iced-out gold chains hanging around his neck. "Son, its gonna' be a lotta' pussy out there."
"And who gets more pussy than us?" Miami grinned.
"Not a mutha'fuckin soul!" Jarod responded. It was sort of like their pretty boy credo.
"Yo', how'd you manage to shake Ari'?" Miami asked.
"Bra', I fucked around 'n got caught up wit' Kelsey's ass and ended up losin' track of time. Now Ariel ain't even takin' my calls," Jarod said sadly.
Miami shook his head, "Mayne', you be playin' ya' self pullin' 'dem kinda' moves. What do we always say?" Before Jarod got a chance to answer, Miami continued, "Da' wifey comes first. Mayne', a side bitch can always be put on da' back burner, but we gotta' make time for da' wifey."
"Nigga', I know da' rules. Shit, I helped invent 'dem. Son, I was just so stuck off 'dat blunt 'dat I ain't even know what time it was."
"More like stuck off Kelsey. You showin' all da' signs bra'."
Jarod arched his brow, "Signs of what?"
"Signs 'dat bitch got you open son," Miami said, without taking his eyes off the road.
"Miami, you don't know what da' fuck you talkin' about. I'm handlin' business," Jarod said defensively.
This time Miami did look at Jarod, "Jarod, you've been my ace since I've moved out here, so you know I'm gonna' always keep it one hunnid' wit' you, right?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Aight, so let me ask you a
question: How you handlin'
business when you spendin' more time wit' ya' ho's than wit' ya' girl?"
"Miami, we run wit' da' same circle of bitches!" Jarod reasoned.
"But I ain't got no girl tho' yo'. I can run up in every bitch from one end of Twelfth Street to da' other, 'n ain't nobody got room to check me. You, on da' other hand, got a main chick 'dat you claimin'."
"So what you tellin' me, to square up 'n stop fuckin' around on Ariel?"
"Na', I ain't say all 'dat. You a grown-ass man, so whatever you do is on you. I'm just tellin' you to make ya' next move ya' best move 'n peep da' writin' on da' wall."
"And what da' fuck is 'dat
supposed to mean?" Jarod confusingly asked.
Miami looked at him for a minute. He knew Jarod was sensitive when it came to Ariel, but he was his nigga' and therefore he could speak his mind about the situation.
"Check it: Why you think Kelsey go out of her way to please you 'n put up with da' bullshit?"
"Cause I got da' best dick game in Harlem," Jarod boasted.
"Fool 'dat title still belongs to me, but 'dats a different story. My nigga', Kelsey is a seasoned ho wit' a plan within a plan. All she wanna' do is trick ya' stupid ass into gettin' her pregnant and tryin' to have you playin' house, but you so blinded by da' loose pussy 'n ya' ego 'dat you don't see it 'dat way."
"Nigga', I'm on my job."
"Jarod, if you was on ya' job then Ariel wouldn't be dodgin' ya' calls. Straight up." Miami said, busting a left on 116th and Lenox, "Bra' you know I'm M.O.B. all day, everyday; but you gotta' good chick in Ariel. All I'm tellin' you is not to fuck 'dat shit up bein' stupid. Do ya' dirt, but do it wit' some tact."
Jarod didn't respond to this, he just reclined back in his seat and kept puffing the blunt. Miami and Jarod were only a year apart, but the boy was wise beyond his years. Jarod wanted to dispute his logic, but right was right.
His shenanigans in the streets were seriously cutting into his time with Ariel and he was glad his man had checked him on it, like a true friend. Kelsey had some good pussy, but Ariel was his heart.
Until someone had pointed it out to him, he hadn't even realized he was neglecting her. It was a problem he made a mental note to rectify, as soon as she decided to pick up the damn phone.
"So wassup', you gonna' sit there stressin' over Ari' all day, or shake out like we always do?" Miami asked, running through a street light just as it turned red.
Jarod gave him a solemn look, "I'm gonna' get things right wit' my shorty... right after I see what's poppin' wit' these ho's at da' video shoot!" He bust out laughing.
*****
Ariel
Finally arriving, the three girls got out of the Mercedes Benz and started walking up St. Nicholas Avenue taking in the sights. Ariel loved Harlem not only for the action, but the feel of it. In her hood everything and everybody was tense.
The young boys seemed to be prepared for war at all times. It wasn't like Harlem didn't have its ghetto shit, but the tension level didn't seem to be so high. But, alien as the two boroughs were to each other, Ariel wouldn't have traded Brooklyn for the world.
When Brandy finally slowed her pace they were standing in front of building 410, on 130th. It was a fairly decent-looking building with a great view of the park, but Ariel didn't care too much for the looks the stragglers in front of the building were giving them.
"Who you know in here?" Ariel asked, rolling her eyes at a young dude who was trying to get her attention.
"Girl, would you relax. My homeboy lives in 'dis building. We can blow something down at his crib and then hit da' video shoot," Brandy said, leading them into the building and onto the elevator.
In a matter of seconds they were stepping off on the fourteenth floor and heading towards the apartment closest to the staircase. Brandy knocked, and after a few seconds the locks were undone and a man stood in the doorway, beaming at the three young ladies.
"What da' deal boo?" Brandy gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "These are my girls Ari' and Paris from BK. Y'all, 'dis is Deveron."
Deveron gave a light chuckle, "Mick' is what folks call me tho', but 'dats another story. How're you ladies doin'?"
Deveron was a tall and extremely handsome dude with peanut-butter skin covered in tattoos, slanted almond eyes, and broad shoulders. His hair was cut low, but not low enough to where you couldn't see the perfectly defined waves rippling through the top of it. Lightly tapered sideburns ran the length of his jaw and connected with a neatly trimmed budding goatee.
"Come on in." He stepped back and allowed them to enter the apartment.
Deveron's crib was decorated surprisingly nice for a dude. He had a plush white living room set, which rested on a smoke gray carpet. A plasma TV, tuned to ESPN News, was fastened to a wall he had bricked over when he moved into the spot, to give it more of a chic look.
Along the shelves that were mounted on the wall were trophies of different shapes and sizes. Most of them were for football, but there was also a basketball award and two for baseball. Along the walls were pictures of him dressed in his high school football uniform, wearing a goofy smirk.
"Shit!" Ariel cursed, looking at the blank screen on her cell phone.
"What's good ma'?" Paris asked.
"I was so busy rushing out da' house 'dat I forgot to charge my phone."
"If it's a local call you can use da' house phone," Deveron said, tossing her the cordless.
"I'm just checking my messages," she told him, punching in her number.
"You a balla' huh'?" Paris asked Deveron, admiring the pictures.
Leaning against the wall he gave her a confident grin, "I used to play a lil'bit."
"Mick' won a D-2 national title last year," Brandy added proudly, taking one of the larger trophies off the shelf.
"You a college grad?" Ariel asked.
"Not quite." He took the trophy from Brandy and placed it back on the shelf, "I got two more years before I get my bachelor's. You go to school?"
"Yeah. I'm in my third semester for Medical Assistance, I'm getting my Associates," Ariel told him.
Deveron licked his lips feeling intrigued, " 'Dats wassup'. It's good to see a sister handlin' hers."
"--What you got up in here to drink? A bitch is parched," Brandy cut in, not digging the way Deveron was looking at Ariel.
"Look at your alcoholic ass." Deveron said, knowing exactly what she wanted as he playfully mushed her.
"Chill out, you know how I do!" Brandy told him before flopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote, letting the other two girls know she and Deveron had that kind of familiarity.
"Brandy, I better not get knocked for lettin' yo' ass drink. I already know how Damontrez feel about you gettin' drunk, since yo' ass don't know how to hold yo' liquor." He cut a glance at Ariel when he said this, "Y'all want somethin' too?" he asked before disappearing into the kitchen.
"Yeah." Ariel and Paris both answered in a unison.
"Is Dirty Sprite alright with y'all?" he called from the kitchen.
"I'm always down for 'dat," Paris mumbled, looking at a picture of Deveron at his senior prom.
"--What da' hell is 'dat?" Ariel asked suspiciously.
"Just somethin' me 'n my nigga's be fuckin' wit'. Its a recipe 'dats gonna' get y'all right," he said, milling about the refrigerator.
He placed an ice-cold two-liter of Sprite, Hawaiian Punch, and a half drunken bottle of Gin on the counter, beside a orange medication bottle filled with purple liquid that had Codeine Mix labeled on the front of it, and various flavors of Jolly Ranchers candy.
Deveron poured an equal amount of the Sprite, Hawaiian Punch, and Gin into four doubled 24 oz. styrofoam cups, then added the thick purple Codeine Mix along with Jolly Ranchers candy and a couple of ice cubes swirling it around in a mixing motion.
The finished concoction looked like a rainbow in a cup, with a hit of bubbles at the top.
"Here we go," Deveron said, coming out of the kitchen, balancing a tray with the four doubled styrofoam cups on it.
Brandy and Paris immediately began sipping theirs, while Ariel looked at the cup suspiciously.
"There better not be no date rape in 'dis." Ariel smelled her cup.
"Ma, do I look like a nigga' who gotta' take pussy? Come on shorty, I wouldn't do 'dat to my lil'homey or her girls." He took a swig from his drink nodding towards Brandy, who giggled at the statement.
"Its coo' Ari'. Mick' ain't 'dat type of nigga'," Brandy took a deep gulp of her drink.
Paris took a sip and nodded her head in approval, "It kinda tastes like a wine cooler."
"I know right, 'dis shit is fruity ah'fuck." Deveron took another swig from his drink as he flopped down on the couch between Ariel and Paris, "Now, which one of y'all got da' blunt?"
For the next twenty minutes or so, the group smoked weed and sipped on sizzurp. Ariel had a good buzz, but Brandy looked like she was on the verge of being drunk, which was always a bad sign.
She had one leg slung over the arm of the lounge chair and her eyes looked like they were trying to drop.
"You aight?" Ariel asked her.
"Yeah I'm good yo'. 'Dat Dirty be kicking my ass tho'." Brandy slurred a bit.
" 'Dis shit is kinda' strong. What did you say was in it?" Paris asked.
"I didn't," Deveron said playfully.
Brandy suddenly sprung to her feet, scaring the hell out of everyone.
" 'Dis shit got me feeling good!" She said, stretching so that her breasts were pressing against the fabric of her shirt, "Yo' I'ma be up in da' video like," she tried to bust a dance step, but mistimed it and stumbled, landing with her ass in Deveron's lap and almost spilling the Dirty Sprite onto Ariel and Paris.
"--Bitch watch 'dat shit!" Paris shouted.
"--Damn, yo' drunk ass almost fucked up my outfit," Ariel scolded her.
"Fuck y'all, ain't nobody drunk." Brandy shot back. She draped her arms around Deveron's neck and gave him a seductive look, "Let me holla' at you in da' back for a minute," she tried to whisper, but everyone in the room heard her.
Deveron's face slightly turned red, as he tried not to look embarrassed for her.
"Easy ma," he said while removing her hands, "You a little tipsy right now."
"Mick', stop acting like 'dat." She was now trying to wrap her arms around his waist, but he resisted.
"Chill out Brandy." He removed her from his lap and stood up.
"Word, it's like 'dat now?" She asked with hurt in her eyes and anger in her voice, "What, you acting brand-new cause these bitches is here? Mick' you know my head game is way good, so stop fronting."
"Yo' Brandy, 'dat drink got you buggin' right now," Deveron said seriously. Brandy was killing his vibe in front of Ariel and he was starting to get upset.
"Fuck you nigga'!" Brandy tossed the empty cup at him.
"You actin' like a real bird right now shorty," Deveron said, clearly irritated now.
"I got ya' fucking bird." Brandy hopped up like she was going to take a swing at him, but Paris grabbed her.
"Ain't gonna' be none of 'dat Brandy, cause if he buck we all gotta' buck," she said very seriously.
"Na', I ain't even on it like 'dat. Just get her drunk ass da' fuck up outta' here," Deveron said, bending to pick up the cup. As soon as he was close enough, Brandy tired to kick him, but she ended up nicking Ariel's leg.
Ariel glared at her, "Now I know your ass is tripping."
"--Come on, we out." Paris said, half steering, half dragging Brandy towards the door.
Ariel shook her head and fell in step behind her peoples.
"Yo', I'm sorry 'dis shit happened," Deveron said to Ariel.
"Don't sweat it." she said casually.
"Maybe one day I could make it up to you?"
Ariel gave him a seductive smile, "Na'." she glanced at Brandy and back to Deveron, "I don't think you ready for a chick like me."
With a playful wink, she was out the door.
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Copyright © 2019 by Ariel O. Jones
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing, 2019
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