𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐆

36

"Ana, Ana-" I heard Chyna take a breath, not one of someone being annoyed or aggravated but it sounded like she was overwhelmed. I clutched the rim of the urine-scented porcelain rim and felt myself vomit again.

This time, I felt Chyna's hands cradle my hair behind me so I wouldn't get any of the backflow Hennesey in it.

When I came up for air, she quietly handed me a folded napkin that looked embroidered. Before I wiped the smeared lipgloss off I noticed the initials.

RR

Suddenly that bitter ass vomit tasted sweet when I put two and two together.

Without looking back at her, I handed her the napkin as I stood. "Thank you." I didn't hear any movement from her and it made me all the more paranoid to have her right behind me.

"How old are you, Ana?" she asked me in a whisper. Me and her both had a feeling the concierge was being extra quiet and trying to get in on the strip club gossip in-between her hourly refills of Blowpops and Jolly Ranchers.

"18." always say you're 18. Even when you don't look it. In a grown-ass setting like this, anything could pop off when they find out you're underage. Good or bad.

"You're lying. Hm, come with me." without me saying yes or no, she grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the bathroom, throwing the concierge a $50 dollar tip as thank-you-slash-hush money.

We made a beeline to the back of the club, bypassing bitches shaking their ass and the niggas throwing stacks of hundreds in the midst of it. Yeah, niggas tried to pull me or Chyna as we passed through, but she kept her pace. She kept her determination. So much, I almost tripped over these narrow as YSL heels more than once.

I tried to crane my neck up to the VIP section where Cut, Richy Rich, and Jazzy was but.. It was empty. Wasn't nobody there. Where the fuck did they go? And it all hit me that I left my phone in Rich office so I couldn't even call Cut.

I felt my blood boil all the fucking same. I hoped and prayed to whatever God was sitting watching me in the booty club that Jazzy didn't snake her ass up yet another one of my niggas. My ears got hot and it felt like my neck was burning thinking of the times that she was blowing up my phone, sending me pictures and screenshots of her ultrasound. How this was my supposed best friend despite Jazzy warning me. I just thought she was spitting hot air but that bitch Jazzy was a whole bottle of venom from jump. And thinking about how she could be suckin' and fuckin' on Cut almost made me snap right here in the club.

When Chyna stopped walking and pulling me, I snatched my wrist so fast from her hold that it jolted her back by surprise. "Man, where the fuck you takin' me? And where the fuck is Cut and that bitch Jazzy! Don't tell me you that bitch friend." Chyna gave me a cold glance before rolling her eyes and pushing the door open.

"Come inside and we can talk. Not out there." we was back in Rich office but it was deadly quiet. No music, no ambiance, no bitches, nothing.

Chyna put a finger over her mouth and signaled for me to follow her to an adjoining room.

"I'm not following you no fuckin' where until I get an answer out of you. Where is Cut!" I paced back and forth feeling the tears burn in the corner of my eyes. I clenched and extended my fingers like I was about to catch a hand cramp, itching to put my hands on this bitch. When it finally hit me that nobody was gonna give me the answers I felt my whole tough girl shit crumbled. My legs began to shake and everything felt cold. My throat felt like it had a brick in the middle and everything was blurry.

I rubbed both of my hands on the opposite side of my face, moving them up towards my temples and pulling the skin back to blink the tears away. I wasn't able to catch the few that fell on the white marble floors, but fuck it.