In Love with a Thug (4 page)

My uncle was not playing any games when he'd said that he'd make this a night to remember. Along with the cars, South Street was also decked with wall-to-wall limousines. I sat back as I watched Toni Braxton and her husband, Kerri, rush inside the salon. Busta Rhymes stood on the sidewalk talking to a slew of females. I watched Foxy Brown walk inside wearing a pair of skintight jeans and dark sunglasses.

Only if Darnell were here to see this.
The chauffeur got out the car and walked inside the salon as Anthony, Ieshia, and I waited patiently. My heart began to beat as the chauffeur came back out with “Golden Girl” following behind. She sported blonde hair and a striped jumpsuit and held a microphone. He came up to the door and opened it as Anthony stepped out and walked the red carpet as if he owned it. Ieshia then took the stand, showing all her pearly whites as Allen Iverson grabbed her hand and escorted her inside. I held my breath for a split second and then made my exit from the vehicle.

“And here he is, the entrepreneur of the evening. The founder and CEO of Ché Mystic.
Ms. Thang,
Juan Jiles.” I looked in the air as the fireworks started and “Golden Girl” grabbed my hand. The speakers blew heavily, playing Diana Ross' “I'm Coming Out” as people who stood on each side of the red carpet clapped in the distance. Cameras were flashing with nonstop pictures. I grabbed the opening of my blazer with both hands and walked down the carpet in stride.

Lending my hand and cheek for people to kiss made me feel so warm on the inside. Once inside the salon there were tables lined up against the wall covered with hors d'oeuvres from grapes and strawberries to crackers, wine and cheese. There were people from all over the area waiting for my arrival. People, both gay and straight, were waiting for me to walk into
my shop.
I went straight back to the VIP area where Toni Braxton and Wendy Williams sat discussing different types of hair extensions.

I looked over in the corner to see Chili from TLC sitting on the loveseat. She held a glass of champagne as she looked as stunning as ever, wearing an off-the-shoulder cream top, dark-blue jeans, and open-toe sandals.

“Hey, Juan,” she said, standing and kissing both of my cheeks. I grabbed her hand and blushed innocently as she stood with a fine gentleman in tow. “Juan, this is my friend Ralph.” I lightly let her hand go and grabbed his as he placed my hand gently to his lips and kissed the back. I could feel his neatly trimmed mustache tickle the back of my hand. This man was dark and debonair and, if I wasn't mistaken, he looked sort of like Bryce Wilson.

“He owns Platinum Sheers Hair Salon in Manhattan,” continued Chili, leaning over into my ear. “I told him I was coming to your opening and he flipped. He's been dying to meet you.”

Instantly my blood went from warm to a simmer sizzle and I began to blush as he gazed directly into my eyes.

“It's nice to finally meet you,” he said in a deep voice that complemented his style. “I've seen your work in the latest issue of
Hype Hair
magazine. Words cannot describe your feminine style,” he continued.

“Juan, Baby, I'll be over here if you need me,” said Chili as she made her way to the front of the salon, leaving Ralph and me alone to talk.

“So how long have you been doing hair?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, I've been doing hair since I was fifteen but I always wanted to open my own shop.”

“Well, congratulations, it's here.” He smiled and raised his drink in the air.

“Thanks,” I said, noticing my mouth starting to get dry as Anthony grabbed my arms from behind.

“Juan, I have someone I want you to meet,” Anthony whispered into my ear, trying hard for me to hear him over the loud music. I cleared my throat. “Oh, excuse me. I didn't know that I was interrupting something,” Anthony said as he did a double-take at Ralph. “Hi, I'm Anthony, and you are?” he said, extending his hand to Ralph.

“I'm Ralph,” he answered, shaking Anthony's hand.

“I'm sorry, can I borrow him for a second?” Anthony said. I put on a phony smile for a minute.

“Um, excuse me for a second.” I motioned to Ralph. “This better be important,” I spat to Anthony.

“It is, bitch. Guess who's here? Ricky's cousin. Remember, I told you about him?”

“Yeah, and?”

“He's here. Let me introduce you to him,” Anthony said excitedly as he rushed me to the back area where I planned for my office.

“Reggie, this is my best friend Juan,” Anthony excitedly introduced us.

“Hi, how are you,” said Reggie as we shook hands.

“I'm fine,” I said, smiling and wishing he would let my hand go.

“It's so nice to meet you after hearing Ant talk about you all the time,” he said, smiling. He finally let my hand go as he placed his hand gently to the lower part of Anthony's back.

“I'm glad you could make it to my party. Have fun,” I said, still holding a phony smile, hoping to break away from those two nuts so I could get back to Ralph. I walked back to the area where Ralph and I were introduced and he was gone. As a matter of fact most of the people were gone from that area. It seemed like all of the action was drawn toward the front door. I could no longer hear music but what I did hear the sound of glass breaking and yelling from a high-pitched voice.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach as I ran toward the entrance with Anthony following behind me. DJ Jay-Ski was packing up his equipment. I finally reached the entrance where I saw the flashing blue and red police lights. My guests were dashing to their cars. South Street was filled with Bentleys, Mercedes-Benzes, and limousines. I began focusing on the subject in front of me, who I knew to be Ieshia, screaming and her dress was torn.

“Pussy, I knew you was gay all the time,” she yelled, running down the street with one shoe on and the other in her hand. I ran over to her and grabbed her from behind.

“Ieshia, what's wrong?” I asked, catching my breath and trying to hold her at the same time.

“Antwoine. That nigga was gay all the time,” she repeated. Antwoine was now at the other end of the street running alongside Ralph.

“Calm down and tell me what happened,” I said, still trying to get her situated.

“Are you okay, sir?” asked the black male cop who tried to help me calm her without succeeding.

“Yes, sir. I have her,” I said, still trying to get ahold of her clothes so her breasts wouldn't show.

“Well, she needs to calm down; if not, I'll have to take her in,” the officer stated firmly.

“Yes, sir. I am the owner of the salon.”

“So, this was
your
party?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said as he shook his head from side to side and walked away. It had begun to rain. “Anthony, can you go inside and make sure everything is okay while I take care of her?”

“Sure,” he said, walking backward inside the salon.

The rain was now coming down steadily as the people started to scatter along South Street.

“Now, Ieshia, tell me what happened.”

She started to speak through her tears and the rain that was splashing on her face caused her mascara to run. She took a couple of deep breaths to get herself together, then began to explain as I walked her over to the sidewalk and onto the red carpet.

“Antwoine came in the salon and when I went over to greet him, he told me to hold up a minute. Then he walked past me and went to whisper something in the guy's ear; that guy you were talking to earlier.” She let out a big scream. Her tears were starting to fall rapidly.

“It's okay, it's okay,” I said, grabbing her hand. “Continue.”

“Both of them went into the bathroom so I waited for them right outside the door. Then someone came out of the bathroom. That's when I saw them through the mirror; tongue-kissing. So, I ran in there and broke them up and they laughed at me. I hit Antwoine and that's when he and the boy came outside and I ran after him. Four fucking years I've been with him,” she continued. She buried her head in my chest, continuing to sob.

“I know, calm down. It's gonna be okay,” I said, rubbing the back of her hair and letting her exhale her emotions for the both of us. All the tears that I wanted to let out but couldn't were falling from her eyes and the sky. I grabbed her head and held it tight against my chest. I stood there with my lonely thoughts as I consoled my friend.
Ralph was a cutie. Damn, why couldn't I have fucked him first?

G
etting over a hangover was never the thing for me. I jumped up quicker than I should have when the phone rang. Intense pain rushed to the forefront of my head from the too many drinks I'd had last night at my party. I had to squint my eyes tight to block my pupils from the bright sun that shone through the miniblinds from my window. I peered throughout the room, looking at the clothes that were thrown on the floor from the previous night. Ieshia slept comfortably and was still in her clothes in the lounge chair that sat in the corner of my room. I pulled back the plush covers and stood up to stretch, letting my hard dick extend freely from my boxers. I went into the bathroom to take my morning piss.

I stood thinking of how exciting it was gonna be for Ché Mystic, its first day for business. I opened the medicine cabinet and popped two Tylenol to help get rid of my excruciating headache. Looking in the mirror, my hair was still intact as I smiled at myself. If that whole stunt with Ieshia hadn't gone down last night, I would have woken up with a cutie by my side.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” I said, walking back into my bedroom and turning on the TV. “Would you like some coffee?” I asked her as she began to squirm.

“Sure, what time is it?” she asked with her eyes still closed.

I looked up at the alarm that sat on my forty-seven-inch television. “It's seven thirty. I have to get myself together for today,” I said, getting up and walking out of the room into the kitchen to start the coffee.

“Juan, I have to ask you something,” Ieshia yelled from the bedroom. I placed the coffee beans into the container and turned on the machine and walked back into the bedroom.

“Wassup?” I sat on the bed as she got up and walked over to me and sat beside me.

“I have to ask you for your help. I am hoping that you say yes,” she said, turning to face me.

“Yeah, what's wrong? You know I will help you in any way that I can. Is something wrong?” I asked again.

“It's really not that big of a deal. First of all, I need some help getting some of my things from Antwoine's apartment.”

“Okay, I'll help you with that. That's not a big deal,” I responded.

“And, also I wanted to know if you could hire me to work in your shop?” She looked directly into my eyes. I quickly swallowed my spit because
that
I was not expecting.

“Ieshia. What happened to your job at the hospital? You are the best RN around here,” I said, getting up and walking over to the lounge chair and having a seat.

“I know. But last week my supervisor tested my urine and it came back dirty,” she said, looking down at the floor.

“Why the hell are you just telling me this? Why you didn't tell me last week when it first happened?”

“I don't know. Please don't yell at me. I'm so stressed right now. I can't take this shit,” she responded with a shaken voice and teary eyes. Her tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“This all is happening too fast. I don't know what to do,” she said, putting her head down and sobbing. I glanced down at the floor, then began twisting my hair around my finger. I got up, went back over to her and sat down on the bed.

“Calm down, Ieshia. I will help you.” I grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “It's gonna be okay. Don't worry.” I sighed. “What type of experience do you have with hair?”

“I know how to do everything from weaves, curls, to extensions,” she answered, still sniffing.

“Well, right now, I'm fully staffed but I'll tell you what. I'll let you start out as a shampoo girl and when a chair opens you can have it.”

She turned to me and gave me the biggest hug. “Juan, thanks so much. I really do appreciate it,” she said, continuing to hug me without letting go.

“Don't worry about it. You're gonna pull through this, baby girl,” I said, noticing it was time for me to get dressed to head out.

Before heading to the salon I stopped at the Chinese people of Woodland Avenue to get my nails and feet done. I needed something to help soothe all the bullshit that seemed to be surrounding me. I reached in my man bag and grabbed my cell phone to dial Anthony. Of course he didn't answer his phone. Knowing him, he probably was still hung over from last night and was lying in his bed under Reggie's armpits.

I pulled up in front of Ché Mystic, letting my brand-new shiny 2005 gold Lexus be the center of South Street's attention. With my sunglasses palming my face I got out, letting the bright sun burn the top of my head as I walked over to unlock the door.

Rob was heading up the street wearing a pair of skin-tight jeans. He had his hair in a ponytail, carrying his man bag as if it was a pocketbook on a natural woman. His dark skin tone glimmered in the sun as he proceeded to walk toward me, smiling. The thickness of his body made his clothes extra tight. Rob was no slouch, though. He had graduated from The Philadelphia School of Hair and he knew damn well what he was doing. Weighing in at about 266 pounds of solid body, he would walk foot and eyewear off any given day for the House of Karan.

Rob was a six-time foot-and-eyewear winner for the House of Karan's Philly chapter. The House of Karan is one of Philadelphia's most respected homosexual gangs, better known as a “house.” A house is a better way of saying “I am in a gang” from a gay person's point of view. Normally a house is run by two people, better known as the mother and the father, and all of their members are their children. Every other month or so the house will throw a big extravagant ball to showcase how fierce or how stylish their members are. The ball may consist of forty to fifty competition categories, sometimes maybe sixty.

These categories may include the prettiest face or the fiercest body or who can vogue the best. Personally I'm a member of the House of Labuchi. I'm legendary for my face and all the faggots know that I'm the one to be reckoned with. I joined the House of Karan when I was a young buck. I was only seventeen years old when I finally told my mother that my father traded dollars to me for sex favors. After I explained all that had happened, she called me a habitual liar and threw me out. With nowhere to go, I moved in with a boy I knew from school who lived with his father.

Come to find out that my father only wanted sex from me so I moved in with Tyrell Karan. Tyrell Karan was the father of what is known today as the Legendary House of Karan. He took me in as if I were his own. We lived in the heart of North Philly and he made sure that I ate and went to school each day. Through unfortunate circumstances, Tyrell passed away when I was eighteen. I joined the House of Labuchi and I've been a member ever since.

By the time of Tyrell's passing I was a known spectacle in the ballroom scene. I was known for my nice grade of hair and my good looks. Whenever there was a ball coming to town I would strut my stuff on the runway and win. Sometimes I won gigantic trophies and other times I would win money, up to a thousand dollars. The ballroom scene was my life and sometimes it still is. I love all the colors, and the flashiness of the drag queens and how they perform on stage. I even thought about starting my own house one day but now that I'm running my own shop, I don't have the time.

“Hey, girl,” said Rob as he sauntered his way in front of the shop with the straight boys on the corner looking on. He gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you ready to do some heads?” I said, still smiling and greeting him.

“Yeah, girl, how many appointments do we have today?” he asked, waiting for me to remove the bulky lock from the door.

“I really don't know offhand but I know we're gonna be real busy.” I finally got the lock off the door as we both went inside. The cleaning crew that I had hired really did a good job, considering the way it looked last night. The chairs were neatly shined with not a curler or curling iron out of place. Rob went into the back to get some supplies and then began to set up his station. I stood in the middle of the floor and took in the entire scene of the shop for a moment. Precious African-American art hung on the walls on one side while crystal clear mirrors hung on the other.

“Looks beautiful, doesn't it?” Rob said, walking to his station with his arms full of hair grease, styling gel, and holding spray.

“Yeah, I am flabbergasted.” I smiled and looked around the room as if I was in another world. I walked to the back area and into my office where I stopped and stood back admiring my cherrywood desk and leather chair. There was wall-to-wall carpet that matched the walls, painted brown with a pinch of red, the color of my emotions and thoughts.

“Hey,” yelled someone from the entrance of the salon. I walked back toward the salon area where Jeff had entered carrying a box of supplies.

“Hey, Juan,” he yelled. “Where am I setting up?”

I walked over to the third chair. “You can set up here,” I said, glancing over at Rob shaking his head from left to right. Jeff walked over to the chair and began to set his things down. I tried my best to hear what Rob was saying. I read his lips.

“Don't sit that faggot next to me. I don't like him.”
Rob's nostrils were swollen as he pointed at the fifth chair.

“You know what? Better yet, you can take the fifth chair,” I said to Jeff. Jeff was brown-skinned and skinny as ever with long black hair. If this wasn't planet earth and we weren't humans, then his face could easily be mistaken for a dinosaur. Wearing a pair of dirty-washed jeans, a tight T-shirt and Converses he briskly rushed past me to his station. I walked over to the stereo that sat on the floor by the water cooler and turned it on. Then I walked over to Rob who seemed frustrated now that Jeff had made his arrival.

“What's wrong with you?” I whispered to Rob, trying not to let Jeff hear us.

“I don't like
her,”
he said, still shaking his head.

“What you mean, you don't like her? I mean him. Do you even know him?” I asked.

“No, not really. But do you remember when Jason Revlon threw that ball in New York last spring?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I said, shaking my head.

“And remember when that fight broke out between my cousin BJ and that faggot named Marcus?”

“I guess I remember,” I responded.

“Well, that little bitch over there jumped in the fight and they rolled on my cousin BJ. When I get the chance I'ma tear his ass up.”

“Look, Rob, please don't start anything in my shop,” I pleaded.

“No, I'm not gonna do anything in here but just know that I'ma get him when the time is right,” Rob continued.

I let out a big sigh and placed my hand on my forehead when twin sisters Keisha and Kya walked in. I call them “Day” and “Night” because, although they are twins, they aren't identical. Keisha is the sexy chocolate one and Kya is more on the light-skinned side. Both are skinny and they were both wearing micro-braids.

“Hey, y'all,” said Kya, walking over to me and giving me a hug with Keisha following right behind her.

“Hey, I'm loving the matching sweats,” I said to the both of them, referring to their pink sweat suits.

“Thanks,” they said in unison.

“Where do we set up?” Keisha asked as I pointed them to their chairs that separated them between Jeff and Rob. They walked over to their stations when my first client came through the door.

“Do you have an appointment?” I asked the brown-skinned girl who seemed to be no more than eighteen.

“Yes, I made an appointment with Jeff,” she said. I pointed her in the direction of Jeff's chair. She sashayed over to the chair and took a seat when the front door opened again but this time it wasn't a customer.

The wind chimes that hung above the door made a jingling sound as he walked in. Alicia Keys' “My Boo” filled my ears with great emotion as my mouth watered from this slice of fantasy that stood before me. He wore a pair of Rocawear capri pants with the hanging strings exposing his brown-skinned hairy legs that led to his silky, caramel-colored ankles. Gracing his feet were a pair of fresh white Air Force Ones.

I looked up at his face to see his flawless skin with a nice thick mustache that formed a goatee. His braided cornrows flowed down the back of his neck like butter. He also sported a white wife beater that complemented his toned and broad shoulders that showed off muscle-bound veins in his arms.

Shorty was getting looks from Rob, Keisha, Kya, Jeff, and the eighteen-year-old who sat in Jeff's chair. He licked his lips very proper like L.L. would. Just seeing him walk his way into the shop that I owned fired up that thing in between my legs.

“Ayo, wassup, girl,” he said to Keisha as he continued to walk toward the back area where I stood. “Which one of you owns this shop?” he asked, looking around.

I spoke up immediately. “I do. Why? Wassup?” I asked, trying to talk his language. That
thug
style.

“Ayo, wassup, playa? I wanted to know if I could interest you in some DVDs,” he said, pointing toward the direction of the door. During the course of this time about three more people walked in with appointments.