sweeter than sugar.

hate the club.

My throat felt like it was on fire as the dark liquid I'd just taken to the head made its way down. I was already three shots in. My vision was starting to blur, I knew if I stood my legs would probably feel the same as jello, but I still wasn't tipsy enough to make my way over to him. Hell, the whole damn bottle probably wouldn't give me enough liquid courage to face him. Look into those dark eyes that held so many secrets and those juicy lips that he let so many lies pass through. I absolutely couldn't do it. There was no way. What I really needed to do was walk up out of here before it was too late. Of course I didn't do it though, that was too much like right. I called for the bartender so I could order what would be my fourth shot of the night.
"Another shot of crown?" The pretty bartender asked me while setting an empty shot glass down on the bar. I nodded my head, simultaneously letting out a heavy sigh that I'd been holding in since I walked in here.
"Yes, thank you," I finally responded, barely above a whisper, when I found my voice. I couldn't help but to look up to the second floor where Marquise, the thorn in the back of my head, and my ex, was. His attention was focused on the conversation he was having with who I knew was his best friend. My eyes wouldn't look away from Marquise, no matter how much I tried. He was clad in a black button down that fit his frame oh so perfectly, black pants with a black Gucci belt going through the loops. I couldn't see his shoes but I was most definitely sure he had walked in blood. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone and his gold Cuban link chain laid perfectly against his chest. My mind wandered back to the last time that very same Cuban dangled in my face. The way Marquise held my legs up, covered my body with his velvety kisses, and stroked me all night until the sun peaked through the curtains. Mindlessly, I drew my bottom lip in my mouth and crossed my legs trying to tame the sudden throbbing I felt between them. I really should just stand from this seat and walk up on out of here, but I just couldn't. My ass felt like it was glued to this stool and no matter how much I wiggled, I couldn't get unstuck.
"Don't babysit it, honey," the bartender called out. Nodding her head in the direction of the full shot glass in front of me. I gave her a shy smile and downed it. There goes number four.
"Can you just keep them coming?" I asked once she was in my line of blurred vision again. She pushed hair out of her face and grabbed the empty glass, hopefully getting ready to refill it.
"Is that guy up there in the all black the reason why you've been taking these shots to the head?" She asked, curiosity so very evident in her voice. "You been watching him all night. Just go up there and talk to him. I'm Taylor, by the way," she continued while offering me her hand to shake. I blew air through my nose, wishing it was just that easy to go up and start a conversation with my ex who I obviously wasn't over.
"Kiana," I mumbled while shaking her hand. "I wish it was that easy. Can I get another shot, please?" My slurred words came out so desperate. Almost like I was begging. I needed to get it together. After all, I was getting what I asked for. It was no coincidence that Marquise and I were at the exact same club at the exact same time. Saturday night at The Address in Houston, of course I knew he would be here. He was always here. That's part of the reason why we aren't together now.
"Here you go," Taylor slid my fifth shot across to me. "Last one, okay? Your words slurred," and with that she was off to the other side of the bar to serve the other patrons. I stared at number five, contemplating on actually taking it, when the fast upbeat song switched to something a little more slow and a little more familiar.

You feel the vibe, it's contagious.
Look in yo eyes, shit is dangerous.
Grateful I had all the patience.
I know you going through some changes.
You taking pictures know your angles.
Ooo, no we ain't perfect, but we damn close.
Ooo, you give me something I can pay for.

"No angel, but you got a halo," I sang to myself in the most pitiful voice I had ever heard come from my throat. Get up, bitch. Call your Uber. Go the fuck home. I heard the voice in my head, but I wasn't listening. Out of all the songs in the world and the DJ just had to go and play this one? The one that Marquise and I used to ride to, the one I used to ride him to, the one that held so many memories I wish I could relive with him.
Number five was in my hand and down my throat within seconds. Don't you dare look up at the second floor. Just walk out, sis. There was that voice that I absolutely refused to listen to again. Oh but how I wished liked hell that I did. I looked up to the second floor to see Marquise getting the grind of his life. A big ol' fake booty pressed up against his lower region, his big hands were secured on her waist and he had his face buried into her neck while she giggled. Look away. Just look away, Kiana. That voice fell on deaf ears yet again. I was full on staring in disbelief at this point. My heart continued to sank as I watched him dance with this bitch. And just when I thought matters couldn't get any worse, they did. Marquise raised his head from her neck and his dark eyes instantly found mine. We locked in on each other and if looks could kill, he would drop dead. I'd finally decided that I had had enough. That was the fucking straw that broke the camels back and I couldn't take anymore. My hands trembled as I fumbled for my phone to schedule my Uber and cash to tip Taylor. Our song was still blaring in my ears and time just wasn't moving by fast enough for me now that I was officially ready to go. The glue that kept me captive in this stool finally loosened up. I struggled to stand and find my balance before walking out of there as quickly as my lifeless legs would let me. The high heels I chose to wear definitely weren't helping in this moment. My body smushed between all of the clubbers on the dance floor as I struggled to get to the exit. Coming here was a horrible idea. I knew that when I slipped on this tight ass dress, I knew it when I was on the way here, and I definitely knew it now that my heart felt like it was raw. A small sigh of relief escaped from my lips once I felt the warm air on my skin. My thumbs were moving fast on my screen to the Uber app. I just wanted to go home at this point. Fuck this club. Fuck that song. Fuck that bitch with the fake booty. Fuck Marquise. The four minutes I had to wait for my ride was going to feel like century. All I could do was stand here, wait, and hope I didn't look as miserable as I felt.
"Kiana," that fucking voice drove me crazy every single time. I wanted to crawl under a damn rock and stay there. Marquise walked towards me looking like something fresh out of all of my fantasies. I held my hand up to stop him dead in his tracks because I couldn't stand to have him anywhere near me.
"Get the fuck away from me, dawg. Go back inside to your section, to your new bitch with the big ol' booty. Hell, you can actually go play in all that traffic out there, for all I care. Just get away from me, Marquise," my words came spewing out of my mouth with anger laced all throughout my tone. My skin heated up the more I looked at him. I couldn't stand how fucking fine he was.
"Why did you run out like that, Ki?" He completely ignored my request and came even closer.
"Because I can't stand to look at your disgusting ass face any longer!" I snapped, gaining looks from people going in and coming out of the club. Don't cause a scene. Don't step out of character. I decided to listen to that voice this time. I turned to walk away from Marquise and to the parking lot, making sure not to stumble in these high ass heels. My body reacting so quickly when I felt his arm wrap tightly around me. He spun me around, pulled me into his chest, and brought my chin up to force me to look into his eyes. I felt so safe like this and all of my anger almost subsided. Heavy on the almost. Now why the fuck did he have to go and touch me?
"You drunk as fuck, Kiana. This ain't even like you. Let me take you home," his voice was so deep, so captivating, and so sexy. He started to pull his keys out of his pocket.
"I do not need nor do I want you to take me home. I'm a grown ass woman. You got some fucking nerve, my nigga, you really do. Dancing with that bitch to Dangerous. That's not our song, Marquise?" As soon as those words left my lips, I regretted them. What I really needed to do was wiggle out of his strong arms and go on about my business. Tears started to form in my ducts and I cursed in my head. I didn't wanna do this in front of him. I actually didn't wanna do it at all.
"All you fucking do is make me cry, Marquise. Damn. We aren't even together anymore and yet, you're still making me cry," I pushed him away and checked my phone. Two more minutes.
"Ki," he started, calling me by the nickname only he was allowed to use. "I'm sorry, baby girl. Okay? I'm sorry," he used his thumbs to wipe the lone tears that fell down my face, probably ruining my makeup.
"For what? What are you apologizing to me for?" I challenged. He ran his hand down his waves and opened his mouth but no words came out. Good. They'd probably be lies anyway.
"Exactly. Just saying sorry for your fucking health. Save it, Marquise, seriously. Go back inside," I swatted my hand in the direction of the door. A black Nissan Sentra pulled into the parking lot. Finally. My damn Uber. I waved my hand, walking towards the car. Of course, Marquise was on my ass. Once the Sentra stopped, I squinted my eyes to ensure the driver matched the profile picture. I reached for the handle but Marquise beat me to it and stared me down.
"I'm sorry for constantly hurting you, Kiana. I know you don't like me in here, and I know that's why you cut my ass off in the first place. But I miss you, Ki. I really do. If you give me another chance I swear I won't fuck it up with you, baby girl. Just let me show you," his words came out sounding sincere. But something just wouldn't let me believe them. I couldn't put my already broken heart back on the line for him. I wouldn't. He opened the door for me and I got inside without a word in response to him. I mumbled a hello to my Uber driver and he gave me one back.
"Aye," Marquise bent down and stuck his head through the door, leaning his face close to mine. Our lips were literally centimeters apart. I took the initiative to close the space between us. A small moan escaped from me when we finally kissed. He took my bottom lip into my mouth and sucked on it, driving me absolutely crazy. He knew just what to do to me. Don't be weak. Pull away. I heard that voice, and I listened.
"Call me when you make it home, Ki," he said with his lips still so close to mine they still touched when he talked.
"Fuck you. Let go of this damn door," My words came out like venom, and he knew I meant every one of them. Marquise shut the car door and I let out a low shriek, trying my hardest not to cry.
"Trouble in paradise, ma'am?" The driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
If only he knew. Damn, I hate the club.

Comments, feedback, and constructive criticism are all greatly appreciated. This work of art was inspired by the song Hate The Club x Kehlani/Masego. I hope y'all enjoyed.

with love, peace, and positivity,
t. ✨