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“You tryna get on this?” Tariq asked, holding out the pipe.
“I look like a hookah nigga to you? Pass me the L.”
Zeke handed it over and I took a pull. My mind was already a little hazy from all the shots. I let myself be in the moment instead of thinking about everything else going on.
“Oh shit!” Marco exclaimed. He was drunk off his ass, getting hype as the DJ dropped the intro to Computers by Rowdy Rebel and Bobby Shmurda.2 Yomi was rapping with him, bar for bar. This was the loosest I’d ever seen him.
“What your uptight ass know about this?” I asked.
He gave me the finger as I pulled out my phone to record him. This was historic. I needed evidence to embarrass him with later.
A group of bottle girls passed our section, carrying sparklers and bottles for the group next to us. It was a bunch of dudes who were way too loud and blinged out from head to toe in shit that probably would sound hollow if you knocked it against something. They erupted with cheers and looked over at us.
“These niggas tryna start a bottle war?” Priest asked.
“Chill with that,” I said.
He was already waving the girls over. “Fuck that. We on that type of time tonight.”
“We are?” Tariq asked, appearing next to me.
“Whatever them niggas had, double it. Matter fact, triple that shit,” Priest said to the girl taking the order.
“Priest—”
He held a hand up. “It’s your bachelor party, my nigga. You tryna get outshined by some dudes in fake Cuban links?” He peeled off bills from a stack of money. “You heard what I said, sweetheart.”
The bottle girl’s eyes went wide as she took the money and disappeared downstairs. Five minutes later, she was back with a whole procession—four girls carrying buckets with bottles and sparklers, and one carrying an LED sign flashing “BIG MONEY SHIT.”
Priest nodded in approval. “That’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ about.”
I glanced over and saw the dudes from the other section eyeing us before they called another bottle girl over.
It was on now.
“This is childish as fuck,” Yomi said, as he cracked open a bottle of Ace of Spades.
“Fuck that! You can’t let another section outdo ours,” Priest said.
I lit another blunt. “Who cares?”
“Apparently you should,” Marco laughed.
When the DJ caught wind of what was happening, he cut the music and got on the mic.
“Ay yo—looks like we got some heavy hitters in VIP! Who really running this shit tonight?”
The crowd went crazy. The guys in the section started throwing up their sets and tossing money over the railing like confetti. Priest looked at them like they’d spit in his face.
“The fuck?”
Zeke laughed. “Priest, sit your drunk ass down.”
“We not about to be disrespected in this bitch.” He called the bottle girl over again. “Baby girl, how much for every bottle of Spades y’all got left in this building?”
“Sir—”
“I’m buying all of them. Everybody in the club is getting Spades on me.” He slapped his chest.
