Antwan sat, his elbow resting on the table, with his head resting on his hand, a playful smirk across his face. He looked into Zheanni's eyes over the pile of drugs. "What else? What'chu tryna get?"
"I don't know, man, I ain't really into this new shit you got. I'm fucking wit' some harder shit now; you know what I mean?" Zheanni turned toward the penthouse door, nodding at Pamn, who awkwardly leaned against the wall, the nod indicating that it was time for them to leave.
"Where you finna go?" Antwan asked. "Where you goin'?" He reached for her.
"Huh?" She turned back around.
"Yo, you still talkin' with that one dude?"
"Nah," she scrunched her face in disgust, shaking her head.
"How come?"
"He ain't about it. Couldn't keep up."
"Yeah, I get you." He then grinned, "So you're single."
"Bruh, nah, we ain't doin' this today."
"You know, I peeped your story the other day—the one with that dude—and you put a little heart on it and everything."
"So what? A bitch can't spread love?"
"You spreading something; I don't think it's love, though."
"Oh, shut up! You are so foul!"
"Come chill. Come chill wit' me. You always tryna buy, you never tryna chill. I can get a friend for your girl over there." He pointed at Poatan, who sat on a nearby couch, scrolling through his phone. "Talk to her, bruh."
He looked up, and a slightly scared look crossed his face. He shook his head quickly before burying his nose back into his phone.
"Nah, don't say that," Zheanni said. "You know Conor would kill your ass."
"Oh?" Antwan looked past Zheanni, seeing Pamn. "Shit, I didn't recognize you. My bad."
Pamn had recently dyed her bright pink hair and slightly enlarged her lips. She glanced around the room nervously, tapping her long acrylic nails together. She wasn't sure why, but lately, everywhere she went, she was anxious. It was as if a dark cloud followed her, like her brain was screaming a constant warning at her.
Poatan got to his feet, heading toward the door.
"Now, where are you going?" Antwan called.
"Z knows, she'll tell you. I'd say, but I'm already late," he said, leaving.
"He's goin' all the way to California Island to link with some guy named Kiari at some farm. He's taking some potential recruits, too. He wants them to like 'prove their strength' or some bullshit. So he's gonna be gone for a few days, probably…That reminds me, I saw on your story you got some new shit," Zheanni said. "What's that lookin' like? What's that 'energized' about?"
"Oh okay," Antwan cackled. "Shit, you're gonna love this." He stood up from the table in the living room and walked over to a different room, clicking on the light. Zheanni craned her neck, seeing a mess of beakers and tubes inside. Pamn sniffed the air, a sticky, pungent odor emanating from the room. Seconds later, Antwan walked out, closing the door.
He tossed her the bucket in his hands. Curiously, she opened it.
From behind, Pamn could only see the pale green glow from inside.
Antwan stared into Zheanni's eyes. Her face was like a child's on Christmas Day, seeing everything they've ever wanted under the tree.
"What is this?"
"Like I said, it's energized. Trust me, you smoke some of this, and your life will change. This shit will make you want to give your life to God type-shit. Grown men weep on this. I've seen it."
"Lemme get like two zips of this."
Walking from the penthouse and into the elevator, hitting the button for the parking garage, Zheanni noticed Pamn's expression. "What's with you? Did you want me to buy you some shit or what?"
"I-no…no," she chuckled, then the sullen expression continued. "It's not that. It's nothing, really," she sighed.
"If you say so."
"Okay, look. So Conor-"
"I knew it!" Zheanni interrupted.
Pamn's voice was snappy and quick, "I just think it's funny that your brother, Conor. He told me he loved me, but then how do you go and fuck the same girl twice after?"
Zheanni tried not to laugh. "What are you talking about?"
"Conor. He cheated on me. With the same girl. TWICE!"
Zheanni couldn't take it anymore, laughing, "Bruh, she's up 2-0 on you! You gotta start playin' some offense!"
Pamn crossed her arms, glaring at Zheanni.
Zheanni calmed down. Glancing out the back window of the elevator, she saw they were about halfway down the building. She looked Pamn up and down, "Oh, come on. It was funny."
Pamn sat quietly in the corner of the room next to Kholwa. The flickering light from the dying fireplace barely reached her.
Zheanni bowed her head, with a pissed-off look on her face as she and every other KTA member kneeled before Conor.
Their father, Paul, stepped away from his son.
New to his palm was an intricate tattoo. "Familial Fealty," Conor stared at his crested hand, entranced. He wiggled his fingers, feeling the newfound power.
Zheanni sharply stood. After brushing off her pants, she shot a look at Kholwa. A look that told her to "come on!"
Kholwa nervously glanced from Paul and back to Zheanni, apprehensively getting to her feet.
"Where do you think you're going?" Paul asked as Zheanni stomped away.
Whirling, "The ritual is done, right? He has his shit. Lemme go."
"Oh, she mad," Conor taunted, waving his palm at her from behind their father.
"That's it!" Golden energy exploded around Zheanni as she stepped up to Conor, and its emanating force put out the nearby fireplace with a whoosh. Her fists clenched. "You don't deserve this, and you know it!"
"Enough!" Paul snapped.
Now, the only light in the room came from Zheanni. Her golden energy flared higher and higher the angrier she got. She took a deep breath, turned away quickly, blinking away tears as she stormed out the oak doors, leaving the room in complete darkness. Kholwa followed.
Conor chuckled, "I don't know why she's tripping about it. All someone would need to do is cut off my hand, and this thing's useless."
Pamn stared at her new features in the mirror, brushing her bright pink hair in front of her face, revealing her puffy, bloodshot eyes. Sallow-skinned and exhausted, a line of fake eyelashes hung loose. A crust of puke lined her enhanced bloody lips.
She took out her phone, seeing it was barely past dawn. She texted Conor, "I think I'm having a bad reaction to the surgery."
Pamn looked back at the mirror. Her heart pounded. She felt so small, as if the world had constricted to this tiny bathroom.
Her fist sent fissures splitting across the glass of the mirror.
"Dammit!" She cried, doubling over, caressing her bloody knuckles, blowing on them with a shaky breath. She got up, looking into the cracked mirror. Her eyes were black, and her mouth was dripping. "I look like a monster."
Pamn stepped off the illuminated platform. The shoot for that day was done.
She strolled to the dressing room, collapsing into her chair.
"Hey," Evelyn whispered in his ear. "Conor said we're going to Manson's club in a few hours. A bit after midnight."
"Again?" Pamn put her head in her hands, sighing deeply.
"I know you're exhausted. We all are, y'know?" She gave a toothy grin. "I got somethin' for us when we get there," she said, raising her eyebrows indicatively.
Pamn lifted her head, giving a long stare at Evelyn. "Fine," she forced her lips into a smile.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"A fake-ass smile, that's what!" Evelyn prodded Pamn in the ribs with a makeup brush.
"You just said I was exhausted."
"I know you, Pamn. What's wrong?" She took out several wipes, cleaning her face of bright, clown-like makeup.
Pamn followed Evelyn's eyes as they stared at her face, scouring it.
"Did Conor do something?"
"Evelyn, remember when we first met a while ago?"
"Mhm."
"Did you know Conor before you knew me?"
Evelyn's eyes flicked up and to the left. Her relaxed posture stiffened, "I…no? Why do you ask?"
Pamn didn't respond, only staring past Evelyn to look at herself in the mirror.
As Pamn walked through the club's doors, Evelyn trailed behind her, trying to keep up with her gait.
Glancing at the club's stage, the man she recognized from long ago, Manson stood tall behind the DJ. His blue hair and glow-in-the-dark tattoos against his dark skin made him look like a demon.
Pamn turned, finally talking to Evelyn. Yelling, "Where is Conor?"
"Dunno. He's always late, you know that," Evelyn yelled back, happy Pamn was interacting with her again. She grabbed her by the arm, and reached in her own purse, "If you're still interested. I've still got-"
Pamn shook her arm free. Shaking her head, she stomped off into the roaring, frenzied crowd.
The lights on the floor, shined to the cathedral ceilings, illuminating the spectacle. Floating underneath, almost reaching the heavens, were towers of champagne and balloons. Below that, was chaos.
Topless women and mostly naked men danced on tables. A coke and alcohol-fueled rampage.
The DJ danced around the booth, the music just as feverish as the crowd.
Pamn walked around a pile of overturned chairs, when…
"Hey!" an angry voice screeched.
Running past Pamn's legs, leaving a trail of powder, a long furry creature scuttled.
"That ferret stole my drugs!" The frantic party-goer plowed past her, chasing the animal.
She shook her head, walking up the winding staircase to the upstairs lounge.
Conor stepped into the party, an air of bemusement as he watched several people run around behind him in the parking lot, chasing a coke-powdered ferret in circles.
"Evening, Conor," the guards at the door said.
As he stepped into the club, someone screamed out, "CONOR!"
The whole room froze, the gravity of their attention shifting to the entrance, all eyes falling on him.
"Yo, my n- my guy, Conor," a skinny skater-bro type with a very wealthy father said. "Aye bruh, you get my verse for that feature you said you'd do for me?"
Conor, who had no idea who this guy was, just nodded and smiled, his diamond teeth like a disco ball in the room. "Yeah, I'll get back to you on that," he nodded, pushing past the mass of people.
He blinked away the spots in his vision from the blazing flashes of phone cameras.
Another party guest, a gorgeous female, "Conor, I love you!"
"I love you all!" He replied back.
"Aye bruh, take this!" A man held out a shot glass to him.
He nodded at them all, politely declining the offer, continuing to trudge forward.
This was the gauntlet Conor had to face every day in his city. It had been about a month since the song blew up and-
Speak of the devil. The club's music halted. After several seconds, Conor's song came blaring through the speakers, and the crowd roared its approval, chanting his name.
Evelyn lifted her head from her hands and swiveled around her chair. The screaming of the familiar name pushing her from her almost comatose state. A hostess collected the dozen empty shot glasses from in front of her. Evelyn gazed from the hostess to the commotion at the entrance. Slurring to her, "One more before I go to him. I need to get Pamn back, too. She doesn't trust me, y'know? It's…I need her to know she can trust me."
"Right." The hostess nodded. She was unphased, accustomed to drunken ramblings, and nightlife at its maddest.
"I didn't even think we would be like best friends! She doesn't even wanna look at me now! It's all gone! It's all over!"
"Ah. Brutal."
"Y'think I, Evelyn, can get one more before…"
"I think you've had a lot. You should hold off."
"Ah, you're no fun," she hoisted herself up—then fell back into the seat. "One more time…" she went again as a look of wild ambition caught her. She almost fell once more, but she caught herself on the hostess's shoulder. She took a deep breath, then started moving—one step after the other, truly at a glacial pace.
Evelyn tugged on Conor's jacket sleeve, getting his attention. She looked absolutely drunk and miserable. She pointed to the ceiling. "Up there."
From upstairs, Pamn sighed, hearing the commotion. To her left, sitting at a bar, was a model she recognized.
Conor walked up the stairs, a pissed-off look as he dragged Evelyn behind him. She hung limply off his shoulders.
Suddenly, she broke free into a run, charging and leaping at Pamn who sat on the couch.
Pamn watched, unamused, as Evelyn slammed headfirst into the cushion to her right.
"What is with her?" Conor asked, shaking his head. He looked down, seeing Pamn with her arms crossed, staring angrily ahead at nothing, making it clear that she was mad at him. "What?"
"I'm done!"
"Not this again." He rolled his eyes dismissively. "What's wrong now?"
She stood abruptly, stomping her foot, "This is so messed up! All of this!" She pointed to Evelyn, who was half-passed out, her quickly closing eyes staring bleakly at Pamn. "Evelyn knew you before we met! You just lure girls who don't know any better in and then exploit me! I didn't know what I was signing, you knew that! I trusted you! You fucked me over so bad! Look at me! You've ruined my fucking life! One day I swear! If karma is real, you're gonna fucking get it! Even if I have to die for it to happen!" Her eyes were red, and tears streamed down her face, dripping onto the carpeted floor.
"Pamn," Conor said, his voice calm. "I love you. Seriously. I've been with a lot of girls, but you're the only one I've ever loved, okay?" He took a step toward her, causing Pamn to stiffen. "Look," he stood in front of her. He towered over her, her face barely reaching his chest. "I would never do anything to hurt you. You're smart, you know that." He wrapped his arms around her.
"You always say that," she said meekly, her voice muffled by his shirt.
"But this is how this has to be. You have to do things that may not make sense right now, or looking back, but just know, I've got you. Y'know I've got you, right?"
There was a long pause, but he felt her nod.
"That's good. Y'know, how 'bout this…You had that shoot a few hours ago, right? You've gotta be starving. Right now, I'll take you to wherever you wanna go." He tipped her head back, forcing her to look at him, smiling, "We'll carry Evelyn there too."
All three sat in the booth. Evelyn, across from the two, was barely able to hold her eyes open but just happy to be there. Pamn leaned her head against Conor's shoulder, smiling at him.