Chapter 1: In the Mix
“Thanks, Isis,” Jared stated dryly, but a smile spread across his face when his gaze landed on his friends seated at the rounded table booth on a platform. He raised his hand to acknowledge them, and like any good wife, Isis grinned at his friends too as they sauntered over, ignoring his tone.
“How the hell did Ja secure her fine ass?” Laquez whispered.
Damn, Sévon thought as his heart fluttered just at the sight of her. After two years of living out of state and handling personal matters, Sévon and Laquez had finally returned to their hometown of Omniville, Texas, to settle down. The trio only kept in touch with each other on video calls, and almost a year ago, Jared and Isis tied the knot in the spur of the moment at the court with only their parents in attendance.
“I guess we bouta find out,” Sévon said as they stood.
“Wassup Quez?” Jared beamed, slapping hands and patting his back. “Good to see yo big ass,” he chuckled.
“Here this nigga go,” Laquez tapped on Sévon’s shoulder with the back of his hand. Laquez’s burly build was always mentioned one way or another. Standing at six-four to Jared’s five-eleven height wasn’t anything new.
“Ha,” Sévon let out a short chuckle, embracing Jared with a brotherly hug. “It’s been a minute Ja, we see you on ya fly shit today huh?”
“You know me, I try here and there.” Jared flexed his navy blazer. The crisp white button-down went perfectly with his black slacks and silver jewelry around his wrist and neck.
“I see you,” Sévon nodded, peering down at Jared slightly, standing at the same height as Laquez. Despite their matching all-black tailored suits, Sévon was more on the leaner side. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Likewise, Sévon,” Isis said politely, shaking his hand. A slow burn of annoyance coiled inside of her as several beats had gone by, tipping on the edge of awkwardness as Isis waited for Jared to introduce her to his friends officially.
“This is Isis, y’all. Y’all already met,” Jared announced, turning to settle into the curved booth. He flicked his wrist to straighten his watch before leaning back as the leather sighed under his weight, earning a panicked look from Isis.
This nigga rude as hell. “Very nice to meet you, Isis,” Laquez said, shaking her hand as respectfully as possible. The video calls she popped in here and there didn’t do her natural beauty justice, as the camera only captured her upper half. They had no idea how lethal her body and curves were. If she was mine, I woulda been showing her off prouder than a muthafucka.
I ain’t know they were this damn fine. “Likewise,” Isis responded, keeping her composure, turning to step onto the platform of the booth to sit.
“Whoa, whoa, I got you,” Laquez reached to help her step up like a gentleman. Jared’s eyes scanned the menu, oblivious to the tension that was slowly creeping in with his lack of chivalry and care.
“Thank you,” Isis laughed nervously, scooting close to Jared, reaching under the table to run her hand in a circle on his knee.
“What’s up, Isis?” Jared looked up. Isis wanted to scream for him making it so obvious that she was trying to silently communicate.
“Just a little lint,” she murmured gently, reaching for his face to affectionately pluck a fake piece of lint off his beard.
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.” Isis withdrew her hands with a sharp sigh, picking up the menu and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Sévon glanced at Laquez, wondering if he was sensing that something was off between them like he was.
That’s married business. Laquez shook his head, picking up the menu.
This shit too damn high, Jared thought, his eyes searching for the cheapest dish.
Not too bad. Isis spent all of two minutes deciding on her entree, only hoping that the service was good and her belly could be full.
“Good evening…” The waiter, an older melanated gentleman, set down a basket of fragrant garlic bread and bowls of savory marinara. After scribbling down their drink orders on his notepad, he sauntered away to give them more time to decide on their entree. Isis scanned the dining room, taking in the sea of couples leaning in close, families sharing meals, and the clinking of silverware filling the air with people enjoying their evening. It put an appreciative smile on her lips, anticipating the day that she and Jared would begin their family. On their honeymoon, Jared had promised that on the night of their first anniversary, they’d cash in on their first child. That anniversary is quickly approaching.
“So how long are y’all gonna be back in the city this time?” Jared asked. Laquez dragged his tattooed hand down his beard. The new skeletal ink caught Jared’s attention, wondering if he was still in the street business. “For a hot minute. Just bought a house,” he shrugged.
Sévon nodded, “I’ll be opening a new restaurant with my people soon. Y’all should pull up.”
Isis smiled a little, “We would love to–”
“That’s what’s up,” Jared interrupted. “So what are you getting into then, Quez? Same old shit, or what?” Embarrassed, Isis let her eyebrows rise and fall, looking into the crowd absentmindedly, excusing herself from the conversation.
“I’m opening a vape shop,” Laquez kissed his teeth with a blank glare.
“Got it,” Jared said. I see he’s still on that street shit.
“What about you, Ja? You still work for RAJA Tech, huh?” Sévon asked, draping his arm on the back of the leather booth to get more comfortable, done with placing his order mentally. Laquez took notice and stacked the menu on top of Sévon’s before leaning back to fold his arms to give his undivided attention.
“Yeah, I do.” Jared adjusted his blazer, grinning from ear to ear at the mention of his job that he was proud to have. “We’re having a company gathering in a few weeks to announce the promotions and bonuses.”
Out of all the phone and tech companies in the states, RAJA Tech paid the best and came with all of the perks. Weekly pay, free healthcare, guaranteed thirty-five-hundred-dollar quarterly bonuses, four weeks of vacation, plus the weekends off. The entire staff of the RAJA Franchise in every state had no complaints with twenty-five dollars an hour as the minimum pay for all positions. The record-breaking low turnover hiring rates was proof of it.
“Will you order me the chicken Alfredo with a side of green onions and shrimp, babe?” Isis requested softly. Five minutes of Jared catching up with his friends had gone by, and she had the sudden urge to use the bathroom.
“Yeah,” Jared said, resuming his conversation about work. Isis carefully slid to the edge of the booth, gripping the edge of the table tightly to balance herself, cautious to not bust her ass as she stepped down from the platform.
“I got you.” Sévon quickly sprang into action, offering his hand.
“Thank you,” Isis flashed a polite smile.
“No problem,” he nodded and slid back into the booth, giving Jared a side-eye. Isis adjusted her dress by tugging at the hem of it a second longer to gather her husband’s attention. When he didn’t look her way, she flipped her hair over her shoulder with a quiet attitude and a trained bitch mug. Why is he acting so weird?
“How the fuck you bag shorty? She way out yo league, dawg,” Laquez expressed the second Isis was out of sight and earshot.
“What do you mean?” Jared let out a short laugh. When he first met Isis a few years ago on his auntie’s birthday, he was tasked to pick up the cake because his cousin Nahiem was running late as usual. Back then, Jared was so nervous he could barely speak because Isis was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even in her work uniform. Tongue-tied and all, Isis managed to get his number despite his nervousness. The rest was history.
“Ya girl is cool and all. Very sweet. We gathered that over the phone, my nigga, but I ain’t look at them wedding pictures well enough, I guess. How are you able to handle that ass, G?”
“Chill,” Sévon warned Laquez sternly, slapping his arm.
“What? You actin’ like I said some foul shit. We know this nigga wasn’t blessed by his pappy,” He shrugged nonchalantly. To Laquez, it was a valid question to ask since Jared wasn’t packing inches like he was packing audacity for his behavior.
“We make it work,” Jared quipped, looking away.
“What you say she do for a living?” Sévon asked to pivot the conversation.
“She’s a cake decorator at Sweets and Treats,” Jared sighed.
“Oh, so that’s where all that damn cake comes from,” Laquez chuckled.
“See, this is why we’ll never be together. You don’t have any decorum, nigga,” Sévon fussed as he side-eyed him.
“Together?” Jared frowned, looking between them.
“I don’t want you like that either. Good fuck though.” Laquez was the last person to be ashamed of being bisexual, but this was news to Jared, as he had never paid attention to all of the signs.
“You surprised? Jared, you real good at being the most lost nigga in the room, and we don’t need to broadcast what’s understood.” Sévon wasn’t explaining what he did or didn’t do with Laquez. They were best friends with benefits and had known what it was from the start.
“Nigga, are you? Ja done let his wife step up and down that big ass platform without helping her. What’s that about anyway? What did she do to you?” Laquez interrogated.
“She can handle herself,” he shrugged.
“Yeah, aight,” Laquez scoffed.
“That woman is gonna leave you the second something better becomes available. It’s not hard to put in effort,” Sévon broke a piece of garlic bread to pop in his mouth.
“Fuck allat, I wanna know have you two been fuckin’? Like, for real? I thought y’all only dated women?”
“We do only date women,” Sévon deadpanned, refusing to waste his breath explaining to Jared some shit he was going to have amnesia about anyway.
“Prove it,” Jared contested, squinting his eyes skeptically.
“You always want somebody to prove some shit,” Laquez murmured.
“Prove what, Ja? I’m not pullin’ my dick out,” Sévon chuckled.
“Kiss, hug, do something,” Jared pressed.
“Man, aight,” Laquez obliged, reaching for the side of Sévon’s face to press a tender kiss on his lips. “We still fuckin’ after we leave here?”
“Yeah,” Sévon said plainly, wiping the wetness from the corner of Laquez’s mouth.
“When y’all start doing all of this?” Jared huffed a laugh, wondering if he’d never met Isis, what his life would look like right now since he’d never told Isis or his friends the truth about losing his virginity to a man. Before Sévon or Laquez opened their mouths to say anything, the waiter returned to the table.
“Ready to place your orders?” He asked chipperly, placing the drinks on the table.
“Yeah,” they all said in unison.
“Can I get the meatball spaghetti?”
“Would you like to have the angel noodles, sir?”
“Absolutely,” Jared grinned.
“Will that be all for you?” The waiter tapped in Jared’s order officially on the VYBE tablet.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Sévon glanced at Jared, hiding his disgust with an exasperated sigh and the shake of his head. This nigga forgot he got a wife?
“Alrighty then. What can I have for you guys?”
“Can we get three orders of chicken Alfredo with extra shrimp, fettuccine noodles, and green onions on the side? That will be all,” Laquez recalled Isis’s order perfectly.
“Will this be on one tab or four separate orders?”
“Same tab, please,” Sévon replied with eyes trained on Jared, who was back on his phone.
“Perfect,” the waiter nodded, finalizing their order. “Your entrées should only be about twenty minutes, gentlemen.”
“Thanks,” they replied. Jared’s eyes lingered on the back of the man a second too long before returning his attention to his phone.
What is this nigga on? Sévon thought, his gaze never leaving him. Laquez was just as annoyed, and they both wondered what the issue was as Jared’s behavior grew weirder.
Can this nigga leave me alone? Isis thought as she approached the booth. After taking care of her business, a man vied for her attention with compliments on her appearance, and respectfully she declined.
“I know you hear me talking to you, miss,” the man said. She rolled her eyes, stomping on the marble floors with a scowl on her face. With one step from the booth, she reached for the table again.
“I got you, love.” Sévon grabbed her hand to offer her assistance, still glaring at Jared with the look of death.
“Oh, my bad. I ain’t know you was spoken for.” The man finally backed down. Isis shot a cold glare before scooting next to Jared as close as she could, wrapping her arm around his bicep.
“What are you doing?” Jared pulled away with a frown.
The fuck? Laquez scowled.
“Yeah, she’s spoken for,” Sévon announced. “You follow women who don’t wanna be bothered around T?” He ran his hand down his beard.
“Oh, nah. I um–” T stammered, tugging at his collar.
“Go find you something safe to do,” Laquez gave him the first and final warning. The man nodded and got the hell out of there, knowing exactly what not to do to piss either of them off.
“Did the waiter already place our orders?” Isis asked dryly. Her usual poker face was faltering, growing more pissed by the second.
“Hm?” Jared hummed, remembering that he hadn’t placed her order. “I um—”
“Yeah. We all good,” Laquez said, sucking his teeth, eyeing the visibly panicked Jared.
“Thanks,” Isis said, placing her elbows on the table, clasping her hands to look away and busy her mind on anything but Jared.
“We ordered what you got because it sounded good as hell,” Sévon mentioned.
“Just make sure y’all leave a good tip,” Laquez added.
“Right,” Jared tugged at his collar, thankful that they had his back.
“So, how has married life been?” Sévon had to know.
“Great,” Isis quickly answered with a flat tone.
“Our anniversary is coming up,” Jared sighed contentedly.
Laquez nodded. “That’s wassup.”
“Oh okay.” This shit ain’t gone last if he keeps this bullshit up.
“Where y’all going for the special day?” Laquez raised his cup to his lips.
“You gotta ask the missus,” Jared tapped her shoulder lightly.
“Well,” Isis rubbed her hands slowly, removing her elbows from the table to place them in her lap. “The plan was to celebrate with our parents and announce that we’ll be starting our family.”
“Slow down, Isis, we’re not in a rush.” Jared laughed. Despite having a great job, he wasn’t all that great at managing his money. Let him tell it, they were only twenty-six and had plenty of time to have children and couldn’t afford to have one right now. Isis’ eyebrows rose and fell at his words, tapping her foot under the table impatiently as she was ready to leave.
“Okay, Jared.”
“Entrées…” the waiter announced with everyone’s meals on a platter, twenty awkward minutes later, balanced on his shoulder. Jared went on and on about himself, earning disapproving looks and absent head nods from his friends.
“Can you bring out two to-go plates, please?” Isis requested.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Isis?” Jared tapped her thigh with the back of his hand. She swiveled her head to meet his confused gaze and responded with her eyes instead of her words. “We just got here. You ready to go already?”
“I’m not feeling that well,” she lied, brushing the side of his face with the knuckle on her index finger affectionately, staring at his lips. “Since they’re gonna be in town for a while, y’all can hang out some other time,” her eyes flickered up to his.
“Well, how about you just take my car keys?” he suggested.
“Okay, babe,” she dropped her hand from his face, rolling her tongue on the top row of her teeth before looking away again.
“Here,” Jared opened the left flap of his blazer to retrieve his keys and hand them over.
“How you gettin’ home Ja? I drove my Lambo tonight,” Laquez let him know. Even if he drove one of his other cars, Jared wasn’t getting in his whip car after this shit.
“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just get a ride with the TUKR app,” Jared replied with a casual shrug.
Ain’t no way, Laquez thought, shaking his head, taking another sip of his drink.
What did I do wrong? On the thirty-minute drive home, Isis thought of all the things she wanted to say to Jared to express her hurt feelings. One by one, she took off her heels at the door and sat on the navy blue sofa in their living room. Reaching for the photo album, she started when they first made things official. “How did we get here?” She wondered aloud, flipping through the pages as a lone tear fell from her face. The man she fell in love with was stuck in time in the picture and, in reality, nowhere to be found. I hope this is just a phase.
── ༝༚・✦・༝༚ ──
“Explain this picture with my cousin Carlos.” When the battery to Nahiem’s phone died while looking up a recipe, he used Carlos’ instead. The phone wasn’t in his possession long enough before a notification of “Do you remember this from five years ago?” came through with a loud ping.
Curious, Nahiem grinned at the thought of one of the many pictures he and his husband had taken over the years. They built a beautiful life in Cartagena, Colombia, after leaving the States two years ago, thinking that it was going to be their home forever. Of all the pictures that could have popped up on Carlos’ phone, one of him locking lips with Jared was the last thing Nahiem expected to see. This picture also dates back to around the time Jared and Nahiem had a falling out over who had dibs on Carlos first, a byproduct of Jared’s selective amnesia.
“What are you talking about, Heem?” Carlos’s face twisted in confusion as he stood up from the sofa in their living room. When he sauntered over to see what was on his phone, he scratched his head and pulled back nervously. “Um…”
“You fucked my cousin, yes or no?”
“Listen. I—”
“Yes or no. I ain’t with none of the bullshit, ‘Los,” Nahiem tossed the phone on the counter angrily.
“We just met and weren’t serious yet. I ran into Jared at the club, and I wanted to see which way to go. I chose you in the end, and that shit is old,” Carlos shrugged casually.
“Y’all fuck or not?” Nahiem sneered, his bottom grill flashing as he ran his hand down his face.
“Of course we did. Ja ain’t working with shit, and I had to do all the work. Let this go.” Carlos turned away after grabbing his phone from the counter, returning to his spot on the sofa.
“I ain’t letting shit go, nigga. This house, this life, you got it,” Nahiem trekked over to the bedroom and slid his wedding band off, tossing it haphazardly, not giving a damn where it landed.
“Where are you going?” Carlos sprang up, rushing over to the bedroom desperately.
“You’re sneaky. I can’t trust you. You fucked my cousin, so fuck you. I’m going back to the States.” Nahiem thumped Carlos in the center of his forehead, daring him to do anything to retaliate so he’d have the excuse to beat his ass with glee.
“What the hell are you going to do in the States? You can’t just leave me over some shit that happened ages ago,” Carlos pleaded, staring at Nahiem’s back. The skull tattoo covered his back entirely, reflective of the life he used to live as a Reaper. A life that Carlos despised. Nahiem was a hitter for the militia way back when and figured that he would go back to that lifestyle to make his money and start over.
“Heem,” Carlos called out.
Nahiem ignored him, reaching his long arms upward to retrieve his old phone. After powering it on, he was grateful that there was a fifteen percent charge to send out a message to Kofi for a way back in.
Nahiem: I’m coming back. Got a spot for me?
Kofi: Whole crew stationed in Omniville. What side do you wanna be on?
Nahiem: Southside.
Kofi: Bet. Elias and Sév are opening up a soul food-Mexican joint. You can work for them.
Nahiem: Which one of them am I getting assigned to tho?
Kofi: Prolly Sév. I’ll add you to the plane wit Amante, and he’ll get you up to speed since he’s leaving tonight. So wrap all yo shit up and be ready to dip. I’ll send over the info.
Nahiem: Say less.
Right on time. Nahiem spent all of three minutes packing a small bag, ignoring all of Carlos’ tears and pleas to stay. When he was dressed, Nahiem paused to stand at the front door to say over his shoulder, “Good luck nigga.”
“You can’t fucking leave me, Nahiem! I’m sorry, my love. I should have told you long ago,” Carlos shouted, yanking him by the shoulder. Nahiem spun around, dropping his bag, his hands finding Carlos’ neck to grip tightly.
“How could you do this to me, Carlos?” A tear streamed down his face. “Just like my father is at odds with his brother, I no longer have that bond with my blood cousin. We fell out over you, Carlos. Mi familia,” Nahiem’s voice cracked, spinning him around to avoid his gaze, breathing heavily.
“It meant nothing to me, Heem,” Carlos gasped, struggling against the grip around his neck.
“So you didn’t knowingly take both of our virginities? Were we some sorta challenge?”
Carlos’ eyes bulged out of his head with Nahiem’s arm tightening around his neck. “It wasn’t like that, I swear!”
“You knew.” Were the final words Carlos heard before Nahiem snapped his neck, shoving his corpse to the floor. “Yo, Chi-Fee, I need you to clean up a mess for me,” Nahiem commanded with his burner phone pressed to his ear, scooping up his duffel bag.
“Si claro, Jefé. On the way.”
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