Joyland

Los Angeles |

He Think He Slick

by Simone Grant

edited by Lisa Locascio

I put up with a lot of shit in my life, but this, this shit was not acceptable. Never ever has a man disrespected me the way Jalen a.k.a Jay-Money did. Jay-Money is his stage name by the way. Before I go any further, you should know Jalen is a rapper. Not the kind of rapper who sells his mixtapes at the local malls for three or four dollars. Or that rapper who’s always on the bus listening to beats freestyling to a group of uninterested passengers. He was past that and did it all. And even though his rhymes were weak as shit, he still sold records. You know in this industry as long as you have a good beat and a group of groupie men behind you who believe in all the bullshit ass records you put out, you can get by. Oh and did I fail to mention Jalen is my fiancé? We were in the midst of planning a big elaborate wedding. My dress is already bought. The venue is already booked. Everyone on all of our social media pages know that I am soon to be Mrs. Jalen Banks. Yeah, can’t leave that part out. That’s the reason I’m so mad now. No I’m past mad. I’m irate. Yeah I know it means the same thing but I can’t think of another word to explain how mad I am.

I’ve seen my mom get dogged the fuck out by my dad, my step-dad, and the new man she called her ATM or her personal financial advisor (whichever she felt like saying that day) because he funded her life. She got treated like shit by every man that came her way and put up with it because she wanted to live a lavish lifestyle. The cars. The clothes. The jewelry. The expensive lobster and crabs—all sounded good to her and once her relationship ended with one of those men, she was on to the next. She dated them all. Basketball players. Football players. Baseball players. Hell she dated so many men in sports she was starting to become a player herself. I watched her get cheated on, beat on, spit on, and treated like a piece of shit. I grew up telling myself to never let a man get the best of me. And I held that promise til I met Jay bitch ass.

He embarrassed me. He embarrassed our family. He embarrassed our life! Not making any sense? Don’t worry, I’m here to explain.

So last night I was in bed watching “Basketball Wives.” I’m chillen, sipping on some Muscato when my best friend Jordan calls me. Oops I mean Jordonna. He, who is soon to be she, likes to be called Jordonna because it “deads the dick, and births the pussy,” he likes to remind me. He’s in transition taking hormones and already changed his name. Of course not legally, but if you want to be his friend, don’t even think about calling him Jordan.

“Bitch are you sitting down? If you ain’t, I suggest you do so.”

“You’re scaring me, what’s going on?” I put down my wine glass.

“Okay I wanted to be the first one to call you before…” He started before I cut his ass off.

“Spill it!”

“Girl let me tell you,” he says. “So me and Ray eating in SoHo and guess what we see?”

“Okay enough lolly gagging. What is it?”

“They brought back those crabcakes girl,” he says. “The ones with the cucumbers on top with that special butter sauce they be usin’.”

“Oh God you fucking scared me,” I rolled my eyes.

Just as I started to cuss his ass out and find out about those crabcakes we loved to order, I received a text. And oh my God. What I just read made me almost pee on myself. No scratch that. Shit myself.

“Oh my God!” I screamed.

“What’s wrong Mya?” he asked. “Don’t be doin’ the same shit I just did to you.”

“I just got a text from some chick saying she got something she wants to show me about Jay,” I explained.

“About Jay? How this trick get your number?”

“The hell if I know.”

This had happened to me before. A couple months ago some groupie chick that Jay had been smashing texted me on his phone. When Jay was in Miami for a party he was hosting, I guess one of the hoes from his V.I.P section whispered sweet nothings in his ear and found her way back to his hotel room. That is every groupie’s goal. To meet a ball player or rapper or whoever at a club, sneak into V.I.P section (or pay security), get drunk, and whisper a bunch of bullshit in their ears to make it back to their hotel rooms. I guess Jay ain’t a good creeper because this thirst bucket chick got ahold of his phone and texted me. I was stored under “Wifey.”

This was some new shit. No groupie had ever texted me using her own phone. The text went on to say this chick had some shit on my man—like some shit that can fuck up our relationship. I had a reputation. All my home girls thought I was living this carefree life filled with shoes, clothes, cars, and a man willing to do whatever for me. Everyone was jealous of our relationship. I planned to keep it that way.

She told me to check my email. I had no idea how she even got my email address. I entertained it just cause this wasn’t new to me. Jordonna and I had a quick laugh talking about how silly bitches can be. Everything was all fun and games until I opened up my email.

“What the fuck! This some bullshit.”

“Girl what the hell is going on?” Jordonna asked.

“I can’t even breathe right now,” I said, holding my heart. “I need you to get over here like ASAP.”

“I’m on my way,” Jordonna hung up the phone with a quickness.

Oh my! Oh my! Oh my! Was this really happening? Was what this trick sent to my phone real? Was I high or did I have too much wine? No Mya. You go through an eighth of that good in a day or two and drink wine like water. So this must be real. That bastard! I want to feel bad for him but I can’t. I’m thinking about all the fucked up shit he’s done to me. The cheating, the lying, the sneaking around keeps running through my head. His infidelities made me hate his ass and destroy his clothes, his chains, and his Mercedes, but that was the past. I’m trying to change and trust him more, but when this two dollar hoe decided to interrupt my life, all my remorse and anger came right back.

After about fifteen minutes of pacing back and forth around the house, I heard a knock at my door. I ran to the door as quickly as I could and peeped out the peephole. It was Jordonna. Thank God! I opened the door and he busted through like the police.

“I got here as fast as I could,” he said, sashaying across my living room floor. “What bitch and her homegirl we gotta beat up?”

“What are you wearing?” I asked, looking at his booty shorts, boots, and sweater.

“Girl we ain’t goin’ clubbing,” he said. “This is my 911 emergency clothes, not my bout to get my freak on fit.”

I love my best friend. No matter what time or day he was there for me one hundred percent. I mean he would drop whatever or whoever he was doing to come check on his friend. Now that’s loyalty. Out of all the friends I went through, he was always by my side.

“Now like I said, who ass we whoopin’?” he said with his hand on his hip.

“You’ll need to sit down for this.” I directed him to my living room chair.

Jordonna sat down, placed his purse on the floor, and folded his legs. I sat down next to my friend with my phone in hand. Slowly I pulled up the email this trick sent me. I handed Jordonna my cell phone and stood up. I didn’t want to see this video again! It fucked me up. After thirty seconds, Jordonna was running around my house screaming.

“Calm down please. I’m already on one.”

“Calm down?” he said with his hands on his hip. “How and why are you not freaking out right now Mya?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn’t even answer him. I don’t know how or why I’m not going crazy. I guess I’ve been disappointed enough by Jay that this didn’t surprise me. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m livid. But I can’t stress over this. I would drive myself crazier.

“Mya do you realize what we’re looking at?” he asked. “This is Jay having sex with another woman.”

“Yes I think I realize that.”

“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this Mya.” He shook his head. “I mean damn I know Jay done fucked you over before, but this…this topped it.”

Let me just tell you. Jay wasn’t always a creeper. We had some good times together. When I first met him, he was everything a girl could dream of. Handsome. Sexy body. Money. He was everything to me and I was everything to him. On our first date he rented out an entire restaurant just for us. This was new to me. Before him, I couldn’t even get a man to pay for a dessert at Olive Garden. So you know I was hooked on Jay! But he didn’t just win me over with his expensive taste and looks. He was and still is my best friend. Whenever I have a problem or need someone to vent to, he’s always there. No matter what I need, he’s always there to give it to me. I guess that’s why the cheating never really bothered me the way it should. At the end of the day, I knew who he was coming home to. As naïve as it sounds, I thought I had him.

A piece of me wants to say fuck him and move on, but I can’t. Like I said, he’s my best friend. I can’t do it to him. Jordonna wouldn’t understand. He goes through men like underwear. Deep down this is killing me, but as my mom used to say: “Never let a bitch see you sweat.”

“I don’t know what to do now,” I said with my face buried in my hands. “I thought the bullshit was behind us.”

“Girl the bullshit just getting started.” He grabbed my hands. “Look you gone need to get it together. If this is Jay we got a lot of work on our hands to rectify this.”

“What you mean, if this is Jay?”

“Maybe this is another dude. A case of the mistaken rapper,” he said.

“Okay…yeah…right…So some random girl just so happen to text me out of nowhere claiming to have a freaking sextape with a rapper named Jay-Money?”

“Girl you know how many Jay-Money’s in the industry there are?”

“Okay and if it was (which it probably isn’t) another Jay-Money who looks exactly like mine, how did she get my number?”

“The universe works in mysterious ways I’m telling you,” he said, walking towards my laptop. “Let’s view this on a bigger screen.”

Even though this was a crazy assumption, I had just a little hope that it wasn’t Jay in the sextape. Okay I know the odds of this not being him are slim to none, but a girl could be hopeful. But after logging in my email and pulling up the five minute video, my heart was in my stomach. And after watching the video for not even a minute, our hopes were trashed. There was Jay fucking some bitch on camera. It’s obvious he had no clue he was being recorded. I haven’t seen Jay act this way (and by act this way, I mean have sex this way) in a long time. Shit was wild. I’m not even going to get into that. Or better yet, maybe I should.

When me and Jay first met, we had sex like every day, like three or four times a day, like everywhere. I remember one year we were at one of Jay’s friend’s birthday party in Beverly Hills partying and drinking. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other so we snuck in his bathroom and got a little quickie in. We almost got caught. Luckily we were in the shower so whoever the drunk girl was peeing on his bathroom floor didn’t see us. Jay used to love fucking me. Of course we have sex now but it isn’t like this. He had this chick on the video legs all up in the air, back arched, eating her out like ice cream. What I mean it’s obvious he cares about her getting her nut. After Jay is done fucking me and getting his, he smokes a blunt and takes his ass to sleep or to the studio. I’m left pulling out my vibrator trying to finish myself off. Where did our passion go?

“Damn, so I guess I was wrong.” Jordonna shook his head. “I say we call this chick up and have a little convo.”

“Hell no,” I closed my computer. “This chick might be crazy.”

“Yeah well we’re even crazier,” he said. “I say we call this chick up, tell her to meet us somewhere, and maybe just maybe we can get some info or better yet, bribe her groupie ass with a couple geez to make this little sextape disappear.”

“I don’t think she’ll meet up…but then again,” I looked up at the ceiling. “I got the perfect idea.”

“Uh oh!” Jordonna said. “I don’t like that look on your face but right now, I don’t even think it matters. Spill it.”

“Well let’s invite this hoe over…” I began.

“To your house? Girl you done lost your mind.”

“Yes, but listen. We invite her over here, make her feel comfortable, get a little faded, get her phone, and delete the shit ourselves.”

“Okay someone’s watching a little too much Lifetime,” he said, laughing.

“Look I’m about to text her now so let’s worry about it when she gets here okay?”

I handed Jordonna my phone. The text message read, ”I saw the video. If making me sad or cry was your goal, you failed miserably. If making me angry was the plan, well, you passed with flying colors. Now if money is what you want, as you probably already know, I have plenty. How about we meet up at my house,” with my address included.

I know you’re probably asking why the hell I gave this crazy groupie my home address. Well, odds are she probably already knows where I live. And this way I can video record her. Oh I didn’t mention it yet, but what you don’t know is I’m going to secretly tape our conversation. If this so happens to go to court, which it probably will, I will have evidence against her ass. If my groupie senses are right, she will more than likely ask for money in exchange for the tape. Now I don’t know laws, but I know bribery has to be illegal, right? Shit I don’t know laws, but Jalen’s lawyer sure does. All I need is to have this chick on camera trying to swindle money out of us. Ha, funny how the tables turn. After calling me a “sneaky genius,” Jordonna agreed to my plan. We had exactly thirty minutes until she arrived. After getting the video camera set up with Jordonna hiding in the closet, we were ready to bust her ass.

Just like a sneaky whore, she was on time. I heard a knock at the door, and after telling Jordonna to get in position I walked quickly to let this intruder in. I opened the door and there she stood. About five foot five, a hundred and twenty pounds with about twenty pounds of silicon in her ass and boobs, wearing a tight black dress and Louis Vuitton heels, and a twenty four inch weave that blew in the wind.

“Hello,” I said, moving out the way so she could come in.

“Nice house,” she said as she walked into my home, switching her fake ass left and right.

“Thanks slut,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Excuse me.” She turned to look in my direction.

“I said thanks,” I said with a half-smile. “So let’s get down to business.”

“You aren’t offering me anything to drink? No champagne, no wine, no water?”

“Oh where are my manners,” I said. “You are quite thirsty.”

I had wine laid out on the table, already knowing I was going to need a drink or two. As I poured the wine, I heard the closet door open. What the fuck was Jordonna doing? Before I could say or do anything, Jordonna was out the closet and yelling.

“Kayda, what the hell you doing here?”

Could my ears been playing a trick on me? Did Jordonna really know this chick? No. Couldn’t be.

“You know her?”

“Yes that’s my cousin,” he said, shaking his head. “Without the blonde weave and makeup, this the same girl from the video.”

“Hi cousin,” Kayda extended her arms for a hug. “So happy you could be here too.”

“Too?” I screamed. “What’s goin on here?”

“Sit down y’all,” she said, snatching a glass of my wine from me. “Let’s discuss business.”

#

The car ride to the hotel was the most awkward car ride I’ve taken since that one time I rode with Jordonna and his ex, Michael, to pick up Jordonna’s car from his Michael’s boyfriend’s house. Apparently this idiot didn’t cover his tracks and his side piece had found out about Jordonna. All hell broke loose. Michael and this dude got in a huge fight, leaving Michael with a black eye. At the time Michael’s triflin ass drove Jordonna’s car occasionally because his broke ass lost his job. And well, no job equals a repossessed car. After Michael got socked out by his boo daddy, he left—without his car keys! Boo daddy decided Michael didn’t need to drive home, so he kept them hostage along with his cell phone and wallet. Anywho, we drove thirty long minutes to Michael’s side piece house, of course with the cops already on their way. We got there just as the cops were pulling up. After Michael explained the situation and Jordonna proved the car belonged to him, they arrested boo daddy for domestic violence. Jordonna and Michael barely spoke after that. Well, only when J wants some late night dick, he knows who to call!

Jordonna sat next to me in the passenger’s seat, while thirsty trick sat in the back. I didn’t want to communicate with this thotpocket so I turned the radio on full blast. We rode from Hollywood Hills through Hollywood Blvd to Downtown L.A. I done a good job ignoring the slut in the back seat—that is—until one of Jay’s songs came on the radio. I don’t fuck with broke hoes. That’s the name of the hottest record on radio stations now and of course the hoe in the back would know every lyric. I quickly tried turning the radio down, but was interrupted.

“Turn that shit back up,” Kayda said dancing in my back seat. “You know that’s my shit."

“Of course this is,” I said. “Jay must have been high or drunk when he messed with you then because you’re as broke as they come.”

“Ain’t you funny!”

“Now ladies can’t we all just get along?” Jordonna asked. “How far is this shit anyways?”

“It says we’re about two minutes away,” I said pointing to my GPS. “So trick you remember the plan right?”

“If you not gonna call me by my name, I’ll hop out this motha fucka and call Uber.”
“Okay Kayda,” I started. “You remember the plan right?”

“Yes, I text him saying I left something in the room, he opens the door and sees me and you standing there. I get it, I get it.”

Before I became my own personal DJ and started blasting music in the car, I had explained to her that she needed to hit Jay up and tell him she left something in his room. That way, he would open the door without a care in the world. Knowing him, he would probably be ass naked thinking she bout to come put it on him again, but the only thing being put on him was these hands. I was about to slap him silly. There was no way I was leaving this hotel room without giving him a piece of my mind.

“Okay, I sent him a text saying I left my ID in his room.”

“Are you sure you want to do this Mya?” Jordonna asked.

“Oh I’m sure, he ain’t getting away with this.”

“We make a good team don’t we My-My?” Kayda blurted out.

“No we’re not a team and don’t call me My-My, the fuck you think this is?”

“Sheesh, us women have to stick together.”

“Yeah us women, not homewreckers like you.”

“I’m all woman, ain’t no homewrecking in my body baby.”
“Maybe cause it’s full of silicon.”
“Okay ladies, come on now, let’s make peace here,” Jordonna chimed in.

“Yeah Mya I’m not the enemy.”

“Oh I’m sorry Kayda, you didn’t just fuck my man, record it and come blackmailing me with some bootleg ass sextape?”

“I’m not the one you should be getting mad at. I didn’t cheat on you. He did.”
“So that makes it okay for you to blackmail me and Jay?”

“Like I said we have to stick together and when you really think about it I kinda did you a favor.”

“Please enlighten me,” I said, laughing my ass off.

“If it wasn’t for me, you would never know your man was sneaking behind your back fucking random chicks he met in the club now would you?”

Was she that dumb? Does she really think she did me a favor by sleeping with my man? I don’t know what goes through the mind of a slut, but I knew she had me fucked up. I pulled my car over, put it in park and gave her a piece of my mind.

“Look, I don’t know how much or what you’ve been smoking but it’s obviously eating up the rest of the little brain you have. Do you really think you’re doing or did me a favor by proving my man’s a cheater? Surprise, surprise I already knew. This had nothing to do with me. You never knew me and vice versa. This was a chance for you to get your broke ass some money and you jumped right on it. Now I said I was going to pay you to keep quiet. You say we women have to stick together. If I’m not mistaken you did mention earlier Jordonna told you Jay was engaged, but being the fucked up person you are, still pursued him and now here you are swindling me out of money to go buy a car and refill them deflating ass injections. So save the favor shit and sit back and do what you’re told.”

After my speech, the car got quiet. #Awkward. Not even a minute later, Kayda’s phone rang. It was a text from Jay to come up. I drove to the hotel and parked across the street. Jordonna wanted to come up to the hotel with us, but I told him this wasn’t a show. So I made his ass wait in the car. Kayda and I walked to the hotel room and into the lobby. It’s only been a few hours since this woman left his hotel room and now we’re here. Just think about it. She left alone thinking she was about to get cashed out and is now returning with the fiancé of her “come up.” Funny how things turn out, right?

I am never a nervous person, but for some reason my body was shaking. Chills were running throughout my body like it was a winter night, but it wasn’t. It was hot earlier in the day so the cool breeze was just what L.A. needed. As we approached the door, I shook that shit off. I became overwhelmed with anger. As much as I’ve been there for him, I couldn’t believe he would betray me. But I should have known dealing with rappers would bring groupies, and groupies bring new pussy, and new pussy equals a cheating fiancé.

Well here goes nothing.

I made Kayda knock on the door while I hid on the side of her and just as I expected Jay was eager to see her.

“Why’d you leave so fast babe?” He grabbed her arm, pulling her in his room.

“Because she came to see me baby,” I forced my way into his room.

“What the…oh shit!”

“Surprised to see me?”

“Baby what are you doing here?”

“Visiting my man who just had a wild night I see judging the alcohol, weed, and condoms.” I picked up a wrapper. “Good to see you’re keeping it safe babe.”

“Baby, let me explain…”

“Oh no there’s nothing to explain when your little girlfriend did all the explaining for you,” I said pointing to Kayda, who was eating strawberries in the corner.

“How did you…why did you…how did you know where I lived?” he asked her.

“Don’t try to make it like I’m some sort of stalker or something.” She threw a strawberry at him. “Wifey gave it to me.”

“Now why would she do that, you’re lying bitch.”
“Wow calm down, she’s telling the truth.”
“Why would you give her our address…how…how did this happen?”

“Last night Little Miss Silicon over here sent me a video.”
“Video, what video?”

I pulled out my cell phone and pulled up the video. His eyes instantly bugged out. He looked like he seen a ghost. He was about to see a monster if he didn’t explain himself.

“You recorded us,” He said, walking towards Kayda.

“Yep, she recorded your little sex session Jay. How could you do this to me?”

Before Jay could explain himself, in walked Jordonna.

“Damn y’all had it poppin’ last night,” he said, walking over to the bar. “Is this Rosé?"

“I thought I told you to wait in the car.”
“I thought you needed your best friend.”

“No what I need is for my fiancé to pack his shit and bring his ass home.”

“Pack his shit?” Jordonna said. “What, you gonna make him breakfast in bed too?”

“We’ll handle this when I get home,” I said. “I’m not about to cause a scene in this hotel for paparazzi to have a field day with our drama.”

I know what you’re probably thinking. Why didn’t she slap him? Why didn’t she throw strawberries and wine glasses at Kayda? Why didn’t she make a big ass scene like she said she was going to do? Well for starters, the hotel where Jay decided to lay his head and get head is paparazzi central. The media sleeps in their cars, camp outside, hell, some even buy rooms to capture a drunk actress, a cheating actor, and in my case, a pornstar rapper. I wasn’t about to let that happen. Besides I wasn’t in my best outfit either: a onesie, flip flops, and a durag with sunglasses.

As I instructed, Jay started packing his shit. I stood there staring at him grab his clothes and whatever weed that was left. When he was finished, I told Jordonna and Kayda to go to the car. We couldn’t risk anyone seeing us all leave together. We waited ten minutes before we left the hotel room. The most awkward ten minutes off my life.

“Baby I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

“Think you’d get caught,” I cut him off. “Think this bitch would record you?”

“All of it.”
“You are such an asshole Jay.”

“I promise when we leave here I will buy you the biggest diamond watch you’ve ever seen.”

“Great, to go along with the biggest ear-rings, biggest bracelet, and nicest car I’ve ever seen too right?”

“What you want me to do baby?”
“I don’t want you to do anything Jay,” I said. “I just want to go home.”

We walked out together. Not to my surprise, paparazzi was flashing cameras and running up to us from each direction. Where’s security when you need them? Before we could get to the car, someone ran up to us with a camera in our faces asking Jay if he knew about the sextape and if our marriage was off. All types of crazy questions. My first thought was to get to the car.

After walking five minutes to the car, I noticed one very important person was missing. Kayda.

“Where is your messy ass cousin?” I asked Jordonna, who was sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“Umm Mya.”
“Jordonna. Where is Kayda?”

“She told me she needed to use the bathroom because she had too much wine. I waited for her outside the hotel and when she was taking long, I went in looking for her. And well…she was gone.”

“Why would you let her out of your site?”

“Well best friend I’m not fully woman yet so I’m sure ladies in the bathroom would react to a dick in their faces.”

“Babe look.”

I snatched Jay’s phone out his hand and read headlines on every major media outlet. Each had breaking news of a sextape with Jay and a “model.” Well they got the model part wrong. More like Instagram hoe. No wonder paparazzi was harassing us.

“This bitch must have called,” I said

“But how?” Jordonna asked.

“Oh no,” I screamed. “When I gave her back her phone to text Jay ass she must have sent it or something.”

“If I would have known I was going to be recorded for the world to see, I would have tried harder,” Jay said.

I slapped him. I reached back and slapped him as hard as I could. Luckily my windows are tinted so no one could see. What could I do? It was already out there. There was no turning back now. I was going to have to deal with the embarrassment and the “I told you so’s” from everyone who doubted our relationship. I drove off with cameras flashing at my car. I turned on the radio to muffle the sounds of the paparazzi and of course Jay’s new song would be playing. This was the start of his career moving ten steps forward and our relationship taking a hundred steps back.