The post has social media in a frenzy, with fans split between calling it unnecessary shade and others saying it’s a fall from grace.
What y’all think, attendees? Would you work a regular job after having chart-topping hits? Swipe to see the post and pics.
Right above it was a carousel of photos of me. One was me stepping out of the Northside truck. Another was me with a drill in my hand. The one that really pissed me off was me walking up to Noa’s porch with a piece of wood on my shoulder. In all the pictures, you could see the Northside logo clear as day on my shirt.
“Man,… fuck.” I rubbed the back of my neck and made my way to the chair in front of Ron’s desk. I needed to sit my ass down for this.
“You know this nigga Shawn G?” Ron asked, shaking his head as he scrolled through his phone.
“Nah, I don’t know no nigga named Shawn G.” My face twisted. My circle was small nowadays. The only people who knew I worked for Northside were family or coworkers.
“You sure? ’Cause a few of these pictures look like he been watching you. Multiple days, different times of the day.” He turned his screen around again, and I leaned in closer, looking at the page. The handle said @ShawnGBlickTalk. I definitely didn’t know any corny ass nigga that would name himself that on social media. I zeroed in on the profile photo of the nigga grinning with a podcast mic.
“Damn,” I muttered. “That’s… Noa’s ex.”
“Wait,… what?”
I blew out a breath at the realization. “Me and him done had words a few times. He stay popping up at her shit, and he real disrespectful.”
“Oh, so he salty you took his girl?”
“Lame ass nigga.”
There was a heavy silence between us as I pulled out my phone and looked at the post myself. I swiped through the photos again, shaking my head. Shit, I didn’t even know why I clicked on comments, but I did. I guess I wanted to get pissed off even more than I already was.
@Raebaby11: Damn. How you go from headlining to handyman?
@Feellingmyself92: Not Quae Lo outside staining porch railings
@JustJalinae365: I’m screaming! @SavageRow dead ass wrong for this.
@MrsRowdy4life: Not me trying to see what street he is on so I can pull up. That man is still fine ass fuck.
I couldn’t stop shaking my head. It wasn’t even about the world knowing I worked construction. I didn’t give a damn what people thought of me. It was the fact that my peace had been interrupted. Cameras were at my damn job, and now Noa’s house was blasted all over the internet. This dumb nigga had just exposed her to all kinds of crazy people. If they popped up here, it was only a matter of time before they’d be popping up at her crib.
“Damn, they really on here showing out.” I finally pulled myself out of the phone. “This dumb nigga done exposed Noa’s house and shit. What if somebody pulls up when she is alone?—”
“We’ll handle it,” Ron cut in, calm but firm. “We already got security cameras installed on her property. I’ll make sure we scrub her address from search listings.”
I exhaled through my nose, pissed. My knuckles were itching to punch a wall or some shit. I was gon’ fuck Noa’s lame ass ex up.
“Take the rest of the day, bro. For real,” Ron said. “Ain’t no use in you tryna work if you ain’t focused. Take care of your mental, and check on yo’ girl.”
“I was basically off yesterday.”
“I don’t give a fuck. You off again today.”
I didn’t have it in me to protest, so I shrugged. “Thanks, bro.”
“Take one of my cars in the back so you don’t have to face the press,” he said as I walked out of his office. My head turnedtoward the front door. PMZ was still out there. This shit was wild. I made my way out the back, where the fleet of Northside trucks was lined up behind the gate.
“Aye, Q!” Rico called out, posted up beside the truck with James, both of them loading up like it was just another Tuesday. “What’s up, superstar?”
“Don’t start.” I waved him off, already dreading the jokes. I wasn’t in the mood for the clowning.
“We just tryna get our autographs before everybody else.” James grinned like he’d been coming up with that line all morning. I couldn’t help the smirk that slipped out. Stupid ass.
“Fuck y’all. You know that,” I said with a middle finger as I walked past them toward one of Ron’s F-150s. I hated these big, boxy ass trucks, but it was the only one without the Northside logo painted across the side, so it was going to have to do.
