Spillage - "I'ma need a little more than this." - At Your Request

At Your Request

*I'm not sure when we're releasing, but the push is for May. Hopefully we (characters and myself) can agree long enough to do so.*

Unedited & Subject to Change

Night air stung my limbs as I thought to retract, grabbing my tailored suit jacket from the truck. The late fall winds were howling, blowing my button down backwards, and threatening to remove my buttons.

“Shit.” I looked over to see Seth, my first cousin, with his hands rubbing against one another. “You’ve got a jacket in there?” he questioned.

“Uh.” I scratched the nap of my neck with a sarcastic smirk resting on my face. “Yeah, but I doubt if it compliments your… chosen attire.”

Seth had paired joggers with a black tee shirt and his favorite chain. Polar opposites, it seemed as if we belonged in the same circle. However, we did. In fact, there was a slew of us gathering as the minutes elapsed.

“Well, keep that right where it’s at!”

“I’m just saying.” I shrugged, slamming the door to my truck before taking my place next to Seth.

My collar abided by the rules, allowing me to flip it before stuffing a layer underneath. Immediate relief was felt as I situated myself inside of the charcoal colored suit coat, a coordinate of my slacks.

“Don’t nobody like them tight ass suits but you.” Seth chuckled, handy with the jokes. “Gangs all here.” He acknowledged the remainder of our crew, dressed similar to himself. Like a sore thumb, I stuck out amongst my people as we strolled to the front of the building.

Though I’d never visited our current location, I was connected –near and far. While everyone fell back, I leaned into the security guard, and recited the name that I’d been trained to mention upon arrival. The velvet rope that served as a barrier was lifted, and my hand circled in the air –signaling for everyone to follow me.

“Special guest.” The security that I’d just spoken with informed the staff who waited behind the half-ass podium that functioned as a means to collect money from admission-seekers.

“Right this way.” A softer tone caught my attention as I obeyed her wishes. With her hips swaying back and forth, she led me into the dark, clouded sea of human.

The overly boisterous sound system of the establishment rattled my chest as I continued behind the waitress, with shorts that seemed a few sizes too small and breasts as hard as the tray that had magically appeared in the palm of her hand. Along the wall of each angle of the club were men who shared similarities to the few that were behind me and females that were nearly carbon copies of the woman that I was shadowing. The only difference was the articles of clothing were fewer and further in between.

“Is this area okay?” she questioned, looking back at me for a response.

“Yeah.” Nodding, I took the seat that I was closest to.

The three chairs that were surrounding the table filled, quickly.

“Y’all drinking?” Before I could call her back over, she appeared.

“It’s after two, boss man. Ain’t no more drinking.” Seth chuckled. “Hadn’t you been fraternizing with your boujie ass people from the other side, we could’ve gotten here at a decent enough hour.”

The illusion of my thoughts smeared across my forehead as wrinkle lines appeared. “Let me get a bottle of water.” I called off to the waitress.

“Anything else?’

“Nah.” Turning towards Seth, I rectified his statement. “Those boujie ass people just dropped a fortune to acquire my very own practice as a graduation gift. They could’ve required my entire night, and I would’ve been right there. How else am I supposed to keep seeing your ten children by ten different baby mamas for free?”

“You’ve got a point there.” Morris saw humor in my response.

“Two. I’ve got two, and only by one woman.”

“You might be right, but she switches up so much that I can barely tell the difference.” Shrugging, I reclined and accepted the water that was being handed to me.

“That’s how I like it. I hate a boring bitch.” Seth expanded his chest, turning towards the stage.

As if they weren’t already low enough, the lights dimmed and the steady thumbing of the sound system quieted down. The lights shifted from a deep red to a mystic blue as the DJ blew his seemingly hot breath into the mic. There was an immediate shift in the atmosphere as the club-goers gazed at the empty stage.

“Prepare to turn your pockets inside out. Next up is Blyss.” Hadn’t my concentration been so intense in anticipation for the next word after each was spilled I would’ve missed the delivery of his speech. The swiftness was tactless, and barely audible.

Reaching into my slacks, I removed the money clip and peeled off four crisp hundred dollar bills. The waitress had yet to move, eyes fixated on the stage as well. With my attention, now, geared towards her, I requested ones.

“Ones please.” Her eyes tore away from the stage, peering down at me.

“Y… Yeah.” She stammered over her words, taking the money from my hand, and situating her sight on the stage, again. Her mouth hung wide with surprise, causing me to follow them.

Get a plastic bag

Go ahead and pick up all the cash

Go ahead and pick up all the cash

You danced all night, girl, you deserve it

The once empty stage had been embellished with an undeniably idiosyncratic presence. Copper colored skin ran the length of her frame, ending at her nude toenail polish –compliments of her nude bodysuit. Though completely covered, the elected wardrobe easily supported the assumption of nakedness. With each step that she made towards center stage, the shingles attached to her mountain high heels caused a commotion.

Battling themselves, my eyes nearly separated in direction, baffled as to which direction to tribute the bulk of their energy to. I felt them crossing merely a second before she went crashing to the floor. After a scuffle with her balance, she lost and the sound her heels hitting the tiled stage nearly brought my lids and sockets from their dwellings.

Cringing, I fought the urge to lift from my seat and examine her injuries. My muscles tensed, and bottom lip tucked itself under my top row of fangs. The medical professional within me reared its phenomenal head until I came to the realization that this was all apart of her act. The minute her frame was aligned with the floor, forming a split, her now visible rump began swaying to the beat of the drum. One cheek and then the other, she commanded the attentiveness of every living thing amongst her. 

“Wait.” I reached out, never batting or swiveling from the stage. “I’ma need a little more than this.” Handing the waitress my entire clip, I retracted and folded my hands in front of me.