PJ'S POV
My phone was blowing up.
I didn't want to leave her by herself.
I had no choice.
Mushi would kill me if I stayed.
I wouldn't be able to provide for her if I lost this gig.
I have no way of telling him.
...
I'm not a runner. Never have, never will be. But I have no car. I have no other way of getting to Club Fun. King Kong Mushi's gonna be all over me, but I can take it.
I'm sorry, Paula. But I have to.
* * *
"Bout damn time you showed up!" Mushi raised his voice once I finally made it, "I've run out of stalls. What makes you think you can just show up when you want?"
I was only hyperventilating, but I still raised my hand to face him.
"Never mind, I don't wanna hear it. Get your ass over to that turntable!"
I do as he says, not wanting to anger him any more than he already is.
"Sorry for the wait, folks! PJ DJ is back again! Holla!!!"
His voice just gave me a headache. I just wave a peace sign to the crowd while smiling awkwardly. When Mushi turns away, I slip out of my turntable and run out to his friends.
Normally I wouldn't do this, but it feels necessary.
"Whassup, DJ?" One of Mushi's friends laughs. I just motion for him to shut up.
Mushi's other friend appears zonked out. He wouldn't mind if I just took one puff from his pipe, right?
Lord, was that a bad idea.
My headache turned into a migraine. I stumbled backwards, hitting my turntable in the process. I don't feel human anymore. I feel bile raging up in my throat.
I blew chunks on the dance floor.
"Caramba, that was a party foul!" I hear a voice call out.
I'm lying on the floor, holding my stomach and shaking.
"Yo, you should've said something!" Mushi came to me.
I open my eyes and glare at him.
"Need a ride home?"
I nod.
"Need a few days away?"
I nod.