TRUE COLORS || MR. DALVIN.

[ Chapter 17 ]

"Bianca tells us you're a singer, is that right?"

"That's right, sir. My brother, my friends and I," I said, wiping my mouth politely.

"What kinda music do y'all sing?" Her Uncle Darrell asked, his eyes never leaving my face. I wasn't scared of many people, but this nigga right here....his old ass looked crazy as hell.

Suddenly, a hand felt its way up my thigh and and I nearly choked, but I kept it together.

"R&B and a little bit of hip-hop, sir. Me and my brother DeVa - Donald do the rapping," I said as the hand got closer to my dick, and I could feel myself already starting to get hard.

I still hadn't forgotten that surprise she had for me earlier, shorty's head game was tight. Out of the females I had gotten top from, anyway. I was acting like a little bitch earlier, if we're being honest here. I guess it had just happened so suddenly, I didn't know how to handle myself. I did know that I had to redeem myself, somehow. Actually, if -

"Don't tell me you one of them damn gangsta rappers. Can't stand them nig - people," he corrected himself after getting a look from Miss Pam, "With all that cussin' and those names. I never met no gangster calling himself Ice Cube."

"Ice Cube is the man though," Bianca said, shooting me a look so I'd know what she really meant.

Ice Cube really is that nigga, she's not lying.

"And all that nastiness, I mean you ain't have to make a whole song about some goddamn, Freaky Tales....you supposed to leave that kinda talk for the barbershop, not an album."

Miss Pam slapped him on the arm as I heard Bianca snickering beside me while she took her hand away. Dammit.

"I mean....that stuff is supposed be private," He said, changing his tune.

"Don't forget about that Public Enemy. I heard one of their songs the other day and I just couldn't believe my ears," Miss Pam said, sticking her fork in some of the chicken she made.

"Okay, but Public Enemy isn't gangsta rap. They're more like, black power and political stuff," Bianca spoke up, and I nodded subtly because I didn't wanna put too much of my input into it.

"What about that song, 911 Is A Joke?" Her aunt asked.

"It is a joke."

"Bianca."

Darrell wagged his finger at her as he swallowed the water in his mouth, "She's not wrong, Pamela."

"Oh my goodness," she said, "We aren't getting on this subject, Lord, not tonight."

"I actually kinda like those cats, what was that song you were listening to the other day, Bianca?" he said.

"Anti-Nigger Machine?"

"Bianca!"

"That's the name of it! And it's really not that bad, it's like, two minutes worth of instrumental and a minute of rapping," she said, and the woman across from her shook her head.

"Change the subject," she said, "I can't do no more of this. Dalvin, baby, I'm sorry that these two are acting like this," she apologized.

"No, it's okay, I don't mind. We kinda into the same music anyways, so," I put my arm around her, "It don't bother me much."

Her aunt and uncle exchanged a look as she brought her hand up to hold mine.

"How did you two meet anyway?"