House Of Blues: A Fictional Narrative

“I’m trying to be on my best behavior and not take that phone out of your hand then smash it.” Mel said causing me to fully put down my phone. “Nigga just handle that whack ass nigga Justin selling on our corners, playing us like we won’t run up on him.” My brother got up and walked out of the door, slamming it behind him. I picked up my phone shooting a text to one of my sellers telling him to get Justin’s number immediately. Within five minutes I was calling Justin and he was picking up. “So you must think I’m some bitch huh?” “Who the fu—” “Nigga don’t play with me, you know who the fuck this is.” “A-August I swear I didn’t know my boys were still selling in your area. When I found out they were handled immediately.” Justin stuttered …show more content…

“Boy, I went to an open mic night at the House of Blues, now I’m going to get something to eat. Wanna join me?” She asked. “Shit, why not.” I followed her down the stairs and quickly grabbed her hand leading her to my car. “Let me take you to this soul food place.” “Lead the way.” I opened the car door for her and shut it once she was buckled in. Once I was situated, I placed the car in drive and headed to the Soul Food food truck near the apartment complex. The car ride was silent besides her humming softly to Luv by Tory Lanez, which I was fine with. We made it to our destination and placed the car in park. Once I stepped out the sound of a smooth saxophone filled my ears. I jogged over to Lacy’s side and opened the door, helping her out then shutting the door behind her. After placing her hand in mine, I walked up to the window ready to place our order. “What do you get here?” “I get the oxtails, with greens and mac and cheese, you fucking with that? Or you want something else?” I asked. “I’ll take it.” “August, good to see you my boy.” Richard chuckled as he shook my hand. “You want the usual?” “Yes sir, but can you make it …show more content…

“Way too pretty for this knuckled headed boy.” “Don’t play me, Pop.” I laughed letting go of Lacy to reach for my wallet. “No. This one is on the house since you brought me a new customer.” He walked away and I slipped the two twenties into the tip jar and led Lacy to an empty table. “We can eat here or somewhere else, if you want.” “Nah, this is cool. I’m feeling this saxophone.” A silence fell over us until we were brought our drinks and our food. I watched as Lacy wrapped her phone up in her jacket and placed it beside her then looked at me. “You stare at me a lot. You must like what you see.” “Thought I made it clear I do.” I shot back digging into my mac and cheese.”I’m just wondering what the hell you doing.” “I don’t wanna be on my phone while I’m with you, that’s rude as shit.” Mel number two. “Tell me about yourself.” “Lacy Anderson, twenty-two years old, from here, black is my favorite color, I want a dog, I hate ice cream, and I love reading.