“Whatever, Lord, me and her will talk when yo’ hatin’ ass not around,” I jibed. “I need to get out there though, so I’ll hit you later.”
She nodded. “Okay, have fun, but not too much.”
“I’m just ‘bout to perform, love.”
“Right, but you’ll have dancers, so tell them not to get too close. I don’t want to have to show my crazy. We just got together.”
“I actually want to see your crazy, so maybe I’ll test the waters.”
She shrugged. “You know what they say when you fuck around.”
I laughed and glanced at the door because someone was knocking.
“I gotta go, baby, but ay, send me some pictures of y’all while you’re out. I’ll look at them when I get done.”
“Will do. Later, baby.”
After hanging up with her, I continued to ignore the knock at the door while I said a quick prayer. I always did that before my shows because shit got wild sometimes and a nigga never knew if it would be my last, so I asked the Lord for coverage, especially since I wasn’t strapped on stage.
Once I was done, I left the room bumping shoulders with the nigga that was standing outside of the door waiting on me. I knew what time I needed to be on stage, and I wasn’t about to let them niggas rush me to do shit.
I lit my blunt before going out and the crowd went crazy. My shows were always live, and this one was no different. I brought all the hood niggas and the bad bitches out. I loved the shit because their energy made me go hard the entire time, despite being fatigued as fuck when I was done.
To end my opening show, I invited some of the R&B singers that showed up and I had features with on stage with me. The crowd loved the shit, especially the ladies because a nigga didn’t have that much music they could wind down and vibe to.
After the show, I went back to the hotel. My first show was in Atlanta, so I was staying at the Omni. They were having an after party at The Dome, so I was gon’ fall through for a minute. It wasn’t gon’ be that long because I was tryin’ to call my girl and sleep on the phone with her.
I checked the pictures that she sent me after I finished getting ready—it was mainly her ass cheesing or baby girl sleep in her little stroller joint. There were some videos of her playing some of the games and winning prizes. I noticed one nigga thatlooked a little too happy to be in her space, so I called her ass up to see who the fuck it was.
“Did you like the pictures?” she asked as soon as her pretty ass appeared in the camera.
“Yeah, I did, but who was Lord that was all on you at that basketball game?”
Her brows dipped. “What are you talking about?”
“Go look at the video,” I instructed, pulling the shit up again myself. “Nigga that look like Freddie.”
“Who? Makhai, I have no clue who you’re talking about.” She frowned.
“The video where you shooting basketball…”
“Okay, I’m on it.”
“The nigga that look like Krueger in that stripped sweater in the middle of the summer.”
“That man does not have on a sweater!” she cackled. “He just had really bad skin, Makhai, and I don’t know him. He was just cheering me on.”
“Man, that shit is not that nigga’s skin,” I laughed. “Look at it.”
“The lighting was just bad, but he had eczema or something. You’re horrible.” She shook her head.
“Well, whatever the fuck he got, he was too mothafuckin’ close.”
She smirked. “Let me find out you have a little jealous streak.”
“Big ass jealous streak,” I corrected. “You my girl. Like you can actually claim me to hoes. First time in the history of ever.” I chuckled. “Plus, you fine with good pussy and got ya shit together.”
“Did you have to ruin it with that?”
