Soooo this's a story I started writing earlier in quarantine. It was originally just supposed to be a small concept draft based off of an idea I got randomly while listening to a J. Cole song...and then it spiraled into six more chapters. I decided I might as well post them since I've already almost written the entire thing. This's actually my first full on mature story (Vision is more of snippets, not really a cohesive plot) that is going to be very much rated M in the next few chapters. A Juey story, with some Ciley. R&R
Clad in a black suit and dark shades to cover his eyes, a young man stepped out into the scorching sun that blazed over Chicago on that early Friday afternoon. As usual, there was noise all around him, to which he was used to. He had lived in Chicago his whole life - which had just surpassed 24 years - and was accustomed to hearing people yelling and talking, birds squawking, car horns blaring and metal against metal as vehicles crashed into each other occasionally. He was used to tall buildings and bustling people, eyes downwards and phones to ears. He was used to seeing spoiled rich kids in their parent's cars riding down the streets while homeless men and women slept under bridges and in alleyways. This was the city that this young man had grown up in his whole life, the city he loved.
His mocha skin glowed against the sun's rays, making him look as though he were illuminated. His hair was poofed up into a large afro, which was his most distinguishing trait. That and his eyes, which were a deep wine red that could pierce into someone's heart and mind with ease. He strolled to his car - a sleek Lexus - and slipped inside as his phone began ringing. Absently, he fished it out of his pocket, and groaned when he saw the person's name on the screen. "Hello?" he answered anyway.
"Huey Freeman," a woman's voice on the other line growled. She sounded angry, and Huey only rolled his eyes, removing his shades as he did so, "What do you want?" he asked in his deep, rich voice.
The woman scoffed, "You spent the night at my house two nights ago and expect me to not call you back?" She clicked her tongue.
Huey sighed, "It was a one night thing," he replied simply, "I wasn't waiting for a call back."
He heard her grumble again, "Well, do you wanna meet up?" she asked.
Huey had to chuckle to himself; even though he was being as explicit as possible, she still refused to see the signs, "Why would I want to?" he quipped, as if it was a stupid question, "I have meetings today." He glanced at his watch on his wrist, "Look, I'm not interested anymore, Liza," he continued as calmly as he could, because he knew a storm was going to rain down on him, "I don't plan on meetin' up with you again, sorry. I even told you the morning I left."
He could hear Liza's breathing intensify on the other line, "I thought you wanted me, Huey!" she spat back icily.
Huey rolled his eyes, "No, you met up with me because of my dumbass brother, helped me get mildly drunk, and we had another one night stand," he argued, "Look, just don't call me back." And before she could say anything else, he hung up on her.
As he began driving, his phone rang again. He glanced at the screen as he came to a stop and rolled his eyes, "What do you want?" he demanded when he answered the call, "You really screwed me over this time."
He heard a snarky giggle on the other end, "What? She caught too many feelin's for ya this time, huh?" A young man's voice teased.
Huey sighed, "Riley, don't play with me. You set me up with her again when I told you not to, and this's why."
Riley chortled, "What, she call ya up again?" He couldn't contain his laughter. Huey made a turn, "Yeah, she did. Talked about how she wants to meet up again."
There was a pause, "...and what did ya say?" Riley prodded. Huey groaned, "I told her to get lost."
"Nigga!" Riley burst into a fit of laughter, "Damn, for a playa you're so bad at shakin' these hoes off." Huey smirked, "Listen, if you hadn't told her where I was that night, I wouldn't have met up with her…,"
"Which you didn't have to entertain, but continue," Riley interrupted.
Huey scoffed, "I wouldn't be in this situation again Riley." he grimaced, "You know how shallow she is? Have you ever had an actual conversation with her before?" Riley chuckled, "Nigga that's not for me ta know. Youse the dumbass that took her out once two years ago an' still can't shake her off."
This was a typical conversation for the two as of late. Huey and Riley Freeman, born and raised in the southside of Chicago, were brothers; Huey was the oldest at twenty-four, while Riley was the youngest at twenty-two. All their lives, the boys had experienced all kinds of attention, good and bad. All through high school, both boys had matured and blossomed into handsome and capable young men, but things really hit it off when they began making money.
After the cash started flowing in, so did the women. And boy, did they throw themselves at their feet. Riley enjoyed the attention a lot more than Huey, and it was apparent by the dates he went on every other night, always with a different woman on his arm. Where Riley met these women, Huey had no clue, but they came from all walks of life, all to be on Riley's arm for a night.
Huey was a little calmer, but not by much; he, too, had affairs with a few women here and there, but his most persistent 'lover' was Elizabeth Rowne, a young woman he'd met at a library two years previous. He thought she was pretty, asked her out on one date, and quickly realized that she was nothing more than a shallow, money-hungry bitch that couldn't keep her mouth shut about anything. However, Huey found himself drawn back to her every now and then; he didn't know why, maybe it was because she was easy to get a hold of. She was his type; chocolate skin, thick black hair, enticing warm brown eyes, long, lean legs. She stood at 5'9 to his 6'1, and was as thin as a runway model with a sassy stride to match.
Riley sat in his bedroom in his apartment, staring out of his window. He had been on his computer drawing while calling his brother, and had placed his stylus down on his desk and took to drinking his coffee while he spoke to his brother. Riley was like a younger version of Huey, with a gangster flare thrown in. He stood just as tall as Huey and boasted the same rich, mocha colored skin and mesmerizing wine colored eyes. Unlike his brother, he kept his hair back in cornrows, which he favored over any other hairstyle he'd ever tried.
"Just block her number bro," Riley suggested. Huey sighed, "I wish it were that easy. You know she won't stop tryna reach me till I agree to another date. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she showed up at my doorstep ready to bang down my door."
Riley chuckled, "She does sound like that typa bitch though."
Huey nodded, "I KNOW she's that typa bitch Riley, trust me."
"Yo, you goin' to that meetin' over at Raymond's?" Riley questioned, changing the subject. Huey pulled into a Starbucks drive through, "Yeah, I am. They emailed me about wanting to hire me to help them expand with some company…," he trailed off, "I can't remember what it's called."
"Know where it is?" Riley asked.
Huey ordered quickly before continuing, "Yeah, someplace called Woodcrest," he shrugged, although he realized that Riley couldn't see him, "Woodcrest? Where that at?" Riley inquired.
"Somewhere in Maryland," Huey replied simply. He paid for his coffee and received it promptly before taking off again, "You know I'm gonna accept it." he continued, "It's supposed to be some big merge. There'll be a lotta money in it for me. Speaking of which, have you gone to any interviews?"
At this, Riley squirmed in his seat. His pause made Huey sigh, "Riley, I told you that you needed to start takin' this seriously," he began slowly, and Riley waved him off, "Yeah, yeah man, I hear ya already."
This was another typical conversation between the two brothers: Riley's inability to keep a legal job.
Riley delved into drug dealing his senior year of high school, and that had been his only steady source of income since. He barely graduated, dropped out of his first semester of college only two weeks after it started, and had been living on selling in multiple neighborhoods in their area. He made good money, Huey couldn't lie, but it wasn't a stable, secure job. Riley couldn't depend on dealing drugs for the rest of his life, he wasn't some big shot drug dealer or the leader of some cartel, but no matter how hard Huey tried to drill this into his younger brother's head, Riley never listened.
It didn't help that Riley was also using some of what he was selling. Granted, he only ever smoked weed, but it still wasn't a lifestyle Huey wanted for his brother, especially now that their grandfather wasn't doing so well.
"I'm gonna go by Granddad's before I head to the meeting," Huey added, "And while I'm busy, I'm gonna assume you doing what you supposed to be doing."
It was a statement, which meant that it was an expectation. Riley sighed, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," he replied.
They bid each other goodbye before hanging up, and Huey continued on his journey.
He made it into a small, suburban neighborhood not too far from where he'd gotten his Starbucks, and weaved through the streets before coming to a stop at a one story, red brick house. It stood in between two other homes that looked almost exactly like it, although slightly different in designs. Huey parked next to a red station wagon in the driveway, getting out and locking his car as he made his way up the steps to the front porch.
He knocked once, and it opened only seconds later. A woman stood at the doorway; she was a young, Hispanic woman, with long black hair and dark colored eyes. She wore a light blue nurse's uniform, and she had a clipboard in her hands, "Oh, Mr. Freeman," she looked surprised to see Huey there, "We weren't expecting you today."
"Yeah, I just gotta tell my Granddad about my plans for the next few weeks," he nodded to her, stepping into the house. A familiar vanilla scent filled his nostrils, and he sighed softly as she closed the door. He walked down a dimly lit hallway to the bright living room, where the TV was turned on to some old movies. Sitting in a worn, leather recliner was an older man. His eyes were closed, but when Huey stepped into the room, they immediately opened. He turned his head to look at his visitor, "Huey! Boy, why didn't you tell me you were comin' by today?" he demanded. Huey smirked, leaning down to hug him, "Sorry, Granddad."
Robert Freeman had been the patriarch of the family for over a decade. After Huey and Riley's parents died when they were kids, Robert took them in and raised them as his own. They lived in this very home for years before moving out to start their own lives after graduating high school, but remained extremely close to their grandfather.
Robert wasn't the same man he used to be, not since he got sick over a year previous. He became confined to the home, whereupon Huey hired a nurse that came by for the majority of the time Robert was awake. At first, it was only to monitor him, to make sure that he was being careful and taking his medicine. Soon, however, it became to help him function.
Robert was confined to his recliner most days. He rarely had the energy to get up and do anything anymore, which worried both Huey and Riley. They were told that their grandfather's chances of surviving another few years were slim, but the brothers were sure that he'd pull through. Despite this, his already gray hair had thinned, the wrinkles on his face were more prominent, the meat he once had on his bones had evaporated, and his skin was becoming paler by the day. He was becoming older, sicker, weaker, and it was something neither Huey nor Riley could admit to.
"What brings ya here?" Robert sat back in his recliner, clasping his hands together in his lap.
Huey sat on the brown couch across from his grandfather, "I have a meeting today for an offer I know I'm gonna take," he explained, "I'm gonna be going outta town for at least two weeks."
"Where to?"
"Woodcrest," Huey shrugged, "Some little city in Maryland. The company wants to strike a deal with one of the city's most successful businesses, and they hope they'll be able to branch out further from there."
Robert nodded, "So you'll be gone for a while?"
Huey rolled his eyes, "Two weeks is hardly a while, Granddad."
"It is for an old man like me," Robert retorted smartly, cracking a lopsided grin. Huey smirked; his grandfather may not have been in the best condition, but he still managed to retain his sharp mouth, "Riley will be coming by a lot more to help you out while I'm gone." He assured his grandfather.
Robert chuckled, "That boy's as wild as they come, Huey."
Huey nodded, "He'll do it, don't worry."
"I ain't worried for myself," Robert replied, licking his lips, "I'm worried for you, both of youse,"
Huey sighed, "I'll be okay, Granddad, and Riley's getting along just fine."
"Just fine slingin' them drugs, hm?" Robert chided.
It wasn't a secret to anyone that knew Riley that he delved into illegal activities, and Robert took every opportunity to rant about his disapproval over Riley's choices. He was the one that begged Huey to get Riley to go straight, even though Huey protested that Riley would never change. Nonetheless, Robert still held out that Riley would come to his senses one day, even though it would take nothing short of a miracle to make that happen.
"I told you, Granddad, I'll get him straight," Huey assured him. Before Robert could reply, Huey stood, "I gotta get going, but I'll talk to you soon, okay?" He leaned down and kissed his grandfather lightly on the forehead.
Robert nodded, "Be careful out there, boy."
That was his way of saying 'I love you': 'be careful'.
Huey nodded and moved to leave. The nurse, Ms. Martinez, followed him to the door, "Is there anything he needs?" Huey asked her.
She nodded, "He needs a few groceries, plus toiletries," Huey nodded, "I'll have Riley come by later with some things." She nodded, and closed the door behind him as he left.
Huey jumped into his car and drove away, gripping the steering wheel tightly. It pained him to see his grandfather in such a frail, fragile state. His entire life, his grandfather had been his example of strength, of what it meant to be a proud black man, even if he was a little crazy. To think that the same man who raised him lay dying in his home made Huey shudder.
Huey pulled into Raymond's parking lot. Raymond was a fancy, upper class restaurant near the heart of Chicago's downtown area. He'd only been there once before, on a different business meeting, but he still remembered the way it looked, smelled, and the way the food tasted.
He pulled up to the valet and gave the guy behind a computer his name. He stepped out of the car and handed the keys to another younger guy, who drove it away. He fixed his tie as he made his way to the entrance of the restaurant, noticing the glances of the other patrons as he moved.
Huey was used to being stared at now. He was used to being gawked at, mainly by women, when he went places. Men tended to sneer in his direction, but that only made him laugh, especially because he knew that the women they were with were normally staring right at him. Huey knew that he was attractive to most people he met, but he never tried to use it to his advantage when out and about. He reserved that charm for business meetings.
Once inside, he took off his sunglasses, tucking them into his jacket's pocket. He approached the hostess - a pretty blonde girl - who's eyes widened as he neared her. He gave her a heart throbbing grin, "I'm here for a party, the name should be Mr. Parkins."
The blonde nodded vigorously, "Oh, they arrived only a few minutes ago," she blushed, smiling sheepishly at him. She glanced down at a list in front of here, "Please follow me."
She led him to the back of the restaurant, where there were private seating areas for parties. Huey instantly recognized the laughter that came from Mr. Parkins, a short, robust middle aged African American, and the cackle of his partner, Mr. Tilling, a tall, lanky white man only a few years younger. They were sitting at one of the private tables, and Mr. Parkin's face lit up when he spotted Huey approaching them.
"Well if it isn't Huey Freeman!" Mr. Parkins stood to greet him, and Huey welcomed his handshake, "It's good to see you, Mr. Parkins," he said.
"Likewise, Mr. Freeman. You remember my partner, Mr. Tilling?" Mr. Parkins introduced his friend, who also stood to shake Huey's hand, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Freeman." Mr. Tilling greeted him.
"The pleasure is all mine," Huey replied. Mr. Parking retook his seat beside his friends, while Huey sat across from the two. They ordered their drinks and waited patiently for them, making small talk as they did so. Once they'd received their drinks, they ordered their meals.
"So, let's get down to business," Mr. Parkins began, taking a sip of his whiskey. Mr. Tilling only nodded in agreement.
"As you know, we're asking you to head to Woodcrest," Mr. Parkins continued, setting his glass down, "We want you to talk to not only talk to the head of Jackson Co, we want you to speak to Woodcrest's mayor as well."
"The mayor?" This was an interesting request for Huey, "Why the mayor?"
Mr. Parkins and Mr. Tilling glanced at each other briefly, "Woodcrest's mayor is a very...interesting fellow," Mr. Tilling explained, "His name is Mr. Wuncler, Sr., and not only is he the mayor of the city, but he also owns a plethora of businesses in Woodcrest, and in other cities in Maryland. He's created quite and empire for himself in his area, and is even known abroad in Europe and China."
Huey nodded, raising a brow slightly, "So you want me to make a deal with him and…?"
"Daniel Jackson," Mr. Parkins answered, "He's on Wuncler's payroll, as far as we know. We just need you to get in good with both of them," he and Mr. Tilling nodded together, "Work your magic."
Huey smirked, "Mr. Wuncler wasn't a part of the original agreement." he noted.
Mr. Parkins chuckled, "You're right, and for that, you'll be paid double what we promised...with a bonus if you get both on board."
The sound of more money made Huey excited. He nodded his head almost too quickly, "Sounds like a deal."
Mr. Parkins laughed aloud, "Good! Then you leave on Sunday!"
Huey awoke to the sound of a woman over the intercom, "Please fasten your seatbelts, the plane is beginning it's descent." She droned in a monotone voice. Huey stretched slightly, feeling a few of his joints crack as he did so. He yawned as he looked out of the plane.
Sunday came a lot faster than Huey had anticipated. He only had a day to make his preparations for the trip, which included getting Riley on the same page as him. Then, he had to pack what he could for a two week trip, mainly his best suits and casual outfits. He was hoping to get a few good nights out on the town, just to see what Woodcrest was all about.
Once the plane landed, Huey strolled off with the rest of the passengers. He waited thirty minutes for his luggage to come out, and then left the airport.
The sun was lower in the sky now; it had been a good few hours since he'd departed Chicago. Once outside, he sighed as the sun touched his skin, and he began to scan his surroundings.
Woodcrest Airport was unnecessarily large, considering how small the city was in comparison to one like Chicago. From what Huey had researched the day before, Woodcrest was one of the richer small cities in Maryland. It was closest to Baltimore, and the Wuncler family had been an influence in the city for generations.
Huey hailed a taxi and promptly stowed his luggage in the trunk before slipping into the backseat. He told his driver his destination - the Marian Hotel - and sat back in his seat as he stared out of the window.
Woodcrest was a pretty big city, all things considered, but there was one thing that caught Huey's eye the moment they were on the roads: Woodcrest was predominantly white.
He rarely saw a person of color walking the streets or in any of the stores or cars around him. His taxi driver was a young looking white guy, the majority of the occupants of the cars around him were white, and so on. When he arrived at the Marian, everyone he passed by were white. Once inside, he spotted one lone black man mopping the perfectly polished floors; he was older, probably not too far off from his grandfather's age, with almost no hair and a bad eye. He was short and round, and he kept his eyes focused down on the floor as he worked. Huey could see an earbud in one ear.
The lobby to the hotel was nice; he was promised a fancy, upper class hotel, it was delivered to him. The ceilings were pretty high, with large windows to the left and right of Huey. There was a long, oak desk in the middle of the lobby, a tan wall behind it that housed pictures and plaques. There were plants in pots here and there for decoration, although Huey assumed they were probably fake. There were people mulling about; employees, guests, that sort of thing. However, as Huey entered further into the lobby, he could feel the stares of everyone around him, and they were solely on him.
He shrugged it off; he was going to have to get used to being awkwardly stared at while in Woodcrest, and he knew people weren't staring at him because they found him attractive.
He approached the front desk with his luggage, "For Huey Freeman." he said. The woman manning the front desk, a tall, skinny brunette, blushed when she looked up at him from some paperwork in front of her, "O-of course, sir," she squeaked as she type furiously into a computer in front of her.
"You're in room 465, on the fourth floor," she told him. She reached inside the oak desk and grabbed out a keycard for him, "Do you need an extra?" she asked.
"No, no, it's just me," he replied, smiling at her. She blushed again as she handed the card over, "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Freeman!" she beamed.
Huey nodded to her and moved to one of the four elevators in the lobby. He entered one alone and punched in the number four button. Once on his floor, he roamed the halls until he came to room 465.
It was a fairly large room, from what Huey could tell as he walked in. Immediately to his left was a lounge area, with hardwood flooring and plush blue couches. To the right was a small kitchen area, complete with a fridge, microwave, come counterspace, and a mini oven. Further in, Huey found the bathroom, which had a large shower and a floor to ceiling mirror.
The bed was next; it was a king size bed, with a soft blue comforter and large, plush pillows on white sheets. There were two nightstands on either side of the bed, and a gray headboard. Across from the bed stood a TV mounted to the wall; beneath that was a oak shelf, which housed a cable box and a DVD player. At the end of the room was the window, which took up the entirety of the wall. There were curtains that could be pulled to cover it, but when Huey approached, he realized he had a great view of the downtown area, and a large portion of the suburbs.
Huey inhaled softly as he took in his surroundings. It wasn't a bad room, he couldn't lie. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, exhausted.
However, his moment of peace was brief; his phone began to ring.
Groaning, Huey answered it, "Hello?"
"Mr. Freeman!" It was Mr. Parkins, "Did you make it to the hotel just fine?"
"Oh, yes sir," Huey answered earnestly, "The room is fantastic."
"Great!" Mr. Parkins beamed, "Anyway, tonight Mr. Jackson is having a party at the Loure. It's an upper class club in the downtown area, and you're going."
"A party? For what?" Huey questioned.
Mr. Parkins coughed, "We were told that it's for his business investors and such, but really, it sounds more like a welcoming party for Mr. Jackson."
"Oh?" Huey was surprised by this.
"Yes, I wasn't aware before, but Mr. Jackson was away for some time recently," Mr. Parkins replied, "Apparently he's throwing this party for himself, at least that's what it seems like. He's invited a plethora of people from his personal life, I know his girlfriend is planning on being there, his friends from Wuncler's family, and so on."
Huey could already tell what kind of person Daniel Jackson was. It made him roll his eyes, "All right, what time?"
"Starts at eight, I'll send you the address and the name of the place," Mr. Parkins assured him. They said their goodbyes, and hung up.
Huey glanced at the clock on his phone. It was only five; he had plenty of time to get ready. He looked over at his luggage, and decided to get the unpacking over with.
Since he was staying for two weeks, he was going to use the closet space given. He took out all of his neatly folded suits and carefully placed them on hangers, putting them away in the closet. He brought along two pairs of his best dress shoes, six ties, two colognes and watches, and cufflinks. He'd also packed some jeans, shirts, shorts, some sweats, and sneakers, along with his toiletries. In his other bag, he had his electronics; his laptop, chargers, earbuds, and hard-drives.
"Hmm," he mumbled as he stared at his suits, "I gotta look professional, but not stingy." He scanned his options, stuck between his two favorite suits, when his phone rang.
It was Riley. He sighed and answered, "Hello?"
"Aye, ya there yet?" Riley belched from the other end.
Huey grimaced, "Yeah, Riley, just got here."
"What's it like?" his brother asked. Huey rolled his eyes, smirking a bit, "It's white, that's what it is."
"Ya mean like, the people?" Riley prodded.
Huey nodded, "Yeah, I've only seen one other black guy so far, and I'm already in my hotel room."
He heard Riley whistle, "Damn!" he exclaimed, "Where tha hell ya get sent to? Could never be Chicago!"
"Damn right," Huey laughed along with his brother, "Get this: there's a party tonight hosted by Daniel Jackson, one of the guys I'm supposed to be making this deal with. Mr. Parkins said it's advertised as a 'business party', but it's really an excuse for Daniel to throw a party for himself since he's been out of Woodcrest for a while."
"Damn, bro," Riley chuckled, "Must be nice to throw ya self a big ass party for no reason."
"His personal friends are supposed to be there, from what Mr. Parkins said, like his girlfriend and some of Wuncler's family I guess." Huey went on.
"Who's the girlfriend?" Riley asked.
Huey shrugged, "Dunno, Mr. Parkins couldn't remember her name. I know Daniel's some rich white guy, so he's probably dating some equally rich white woman."
"That's how it be," Riley replied. He heard him take a sip of something, "Aye though, tell me how it go aight? Tell me what them white Woodcrest folk like when ya meet 'em."
Huey chuckled, "I will, and please look out for Granddad while I'm gone."
"Nigga, why ya doubt me?" Riley practically demanded. Huey rolled his eyes, "You haven't proven to be the most reliable person I know."
"Nigga, whatever!" Riley shot back, clearly annoyed. However, his tone shifted as he changed the subject, "Aye though, I got a date with that girl, Kiana. Remember her?"
"Kiana from high school?" Huey cocked up a brow.
"Yeah, her," Riley clicked his tongue, "She used to be one ugly bitch, remember? Well, now she's all fine an' shit, so a nigga had to slide into the dm."
Huey rolled her eyes, "Didn't you make her cry one time?"
"Aye, we were in like seventh grade! A nigga can't be sorry for some shit?" Riley defended himself. Huey snickered, "You're not sorry for anything you do, Riley."
"Yeah, well she ain't gotta know that!" his brother snapped, "Anyway, Kiana one fine ass chick now. I dunno when ya saw her last, but she grew into that body of hers." Riley whistled as he explained her appearance to Huey, "She stopped wearin' bows an' shit an' now looks like an actual adult."
Huey scoffed, "Where are you taking her?" he asked.
"Well, Kiana wanna do some romantic shit, so I said I'd take her to whatever restaurant she wanna go to. Then she prob'ly gonna wanna go somewhere to take pictures or whatever, an' I'm cool wit' it." Riley didn't sound too excited for that, "Maybe she'll like me enough ta let me get ta third base by the end of the night."
Huey rolled his eyes again, "Is your only goal to sleep with as many women as possible?"
"Aye, I ain't a hoe like that!" Riley argued, "I don't sleep with everyone I take out on dates!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure," Huey waved him off, "But anyways, when y'all going?"
"Tomorrow night," Riley answered, "We barely started talkin' yesterday. At first she was tryna clown me, but I worked some of my Reezy charm on her an' got a date."
"Ew," Huey made a face. Riley snickered on the other end, "What, ya mad cause I got game an' ya don't?"
"Who said I don't have game?" Huey snapped.
"Nigga, I said that!" Riley laughed aloud, "Ya ain't got the Reezy charm I got. I dunno how ya pull the bitches ya do, youse a dry ass motherfucker on text."
"And how would you know that?"
"Nigga, ya dry as fuck with me, Granddad, Aunt Cookie, hell even yo friends say ya dry over text!" Huey felt his face redden up slightly, "Whatever, Riley." he mumbled.
Riley seemed satisfied that he'd shut his brother up, "Aye though, don't be so uptight on this trip man. Let go for once, hook up with a Woodcrest bitch!"
Huey grimaced, "From what I've seen, nobody here has flavor like back in Chicago. No one's caught my eye."
"Aye man, ya never know," Riley teased, "Ya might find out ya gotta thing for white bitches on this trip!"
Huey rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Riley." And the two hung up.
Huey tossed his phone onto his bed and sighed, turning back to his current dilemma of finding something to wear for this damn party.
At eight o'clock sharp, Huey pulled up to the Loure in his taxi. It was a good twenty minutes away from his hotel, and it was definitely near the heart of the city. It was much more lively in this area than where his hotel was; the buildings were taller, there were more people, and the lights were brighter.
Huey hadn't seen a single person of color during his drive there. He definitely didn't see anyone that looked like him when his taxi pulled up to the Loure. He paid his driver and stepped out, making sure he had everything before the driver could disappear.
The Loure was a tall, fancy looking building. There was a long line that stretched down the sidewalk to the left, and a big white guy dressed in all black stood at the door's entrance.
Huey had settled on his favorite dark grey suit, a deep red shirt underneath, a red and grey tie, and black dress shoes. He shaved, sprayed on his best cologne, wore his favorite gold watch, and his favorite gold studs shined in the bright lights on his ears. He'd spent extra time getting ready for this; he knew he needed to impress as much as possible, especially considering the fact he would probably be the only person of color attending; he needed to show off his excellence.
Huey approached, and could feel the stares of everyone around him, but he knew they weren't the usual stares, like the ones he got back home. These stares made him uncomfortable, and he felt as though someone was going to try and approach him and question his intentions. He'd never gotten stares like this back home, but then again, most people back home looked like him. Here, he stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of white skin. He could hear whispers as he flashed the invitation Mr. Parkins had sent him through text to the man, who glanced at it and let him through.
Inside, it was extremely luxurious. The first few floors were for the public, but Huey soon realized that the upper floors were reserved for private parties, which he was assuming his would be. He approached a young woman behind a desk, and she glanced up at him. She did a double take, her eyes widening slightly, "Can I help you?" she managed to ask.
"Ah, yes, I'm here for the Daniel Jackson party?" Huey replied.
She seemed surprised, "Oh, you know Mr. Jackson?"
It wasn't a curious question, it was a surprised question, like she was shocked someone like Huey could know someone like Daniel Jackson. Huey fought the urge to say something smart; he only smiled tightly at her, "Yes, I'm here as a representative for a business investor looking to work with him." He felt stupid having to justify himself, but he had to swallow his pride as he explained. The woman nodded, "Oh, okay," she glanced at her small computer, "Mr. Jackson is on the sixth floor. I'll have someone escort you, would you like anything to drink while you wait?"
She sounded more cordial now, "Oh no, I'm fine for now," Huey shook his head. She nodded and pressed a button on the table, and a few moments later, a younger white boy came from further inside the club. He was skinny, with flaming red hair and large blue eyes. He wore all black, like the woman at the desk, and he looked just as surprised as she did when he saw Huey.
"Kyle, please take Mr. Freeman to Mr. Jackson's private party on the sixth floor," she instructed the boy, Kyle.
Kyle nodded, still staring at Huey. However, he quickly looked away when he realized Huey was watching him, "Of course. Please, sir, follow me."
Huey followed Kyle into the first floor of the club. It was pretty packed; Huey could now see that the first, second, and third floors were all connected. The second and third floors could look down into the first floor, where there was a large stage with a band playing. The lights were mainly multi colored, with the main source of light being purple. There was a bar, and lots of seating in a restaurant-style layout. The patrons they passed enjoying the club's services were all white men and women, all of whom stared at Huey as he passed.
Kyle led Huey to a glass elevator, and allowed him to get in first. Kyle pressed the number six button on the elevator keypad, and they began moving. The entire time, Huey could see through the glass, and was glancing at everything in front of him on the first, second, and third floor. The lights were blinding, and Huey had to blink a few times to adjust as it grew darker the farther up they went.
The fourth floor was dark, as was the fifth; Huey figured people didn't rent out the private rooms very often, since it was probably extremely expensive to do so. Finally, they made it to the sixth.
The elevator door opened, and Huey was shocked to see that the party was literally the entire sixth floor. There was a similar stage set up that had some kind of band on it. The ceilings were all pretty high, with the walls surrounding them almost entirely made up of floor to ceiling windows. Huey could see the setting sun through the windows across from where he stood, and he stepped further onto the floor behind Kyle.
There were lots of people around him, mainly men. These must've been friends and business partners to Daniel, whom Huey had yet to meet. Kyle escorted him to a bar near the elevator, "Would you like a drink, sir?" he asked.
Huey shook his head, turning to look at the boy, "No, but can you tell me about what this is?" He gestured to their surroundings.
Kyle nodded, "Ah, I'm assuming this is your first time meeting Mr. Jackson?" he asked, to which Huey nodded. Kyle almost smirked, "Well, Mr. Jackson is one of the richest business owners in the city, just shy of Mr. Wuncler Sr. Most of the people here are business investors or work alongside Mr. Jackson, or are trying to work with him."
"And everyone else?" Huey prodded.
To this, Kyle shrugged, "I'm assuming most of the men here have dates, and if the rest don't personally know Mr. Jackson, they're probably trying to."
"Do you know Mr. Jackson?" Huey asked.
Kyle shook his head, "No, I've waited at some of his parties before, but I only know him because he's one of Woodcrest's biggest names. Here," he quickly pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a picture of a man from Google, "This's him."
It was a picture of a tall, young looking white guy. He was the definition of the typical American model; perfectly cut blonde hair, flawless fair skin, striking blue eyes, teeth unnaturally white, thin lips. He looked well built, and had a strong jawline like Huey.
Huey nodded, "Do you know if he's here already?" he inquired.
Kyle shook his head, "Mr. Jackson had to run to his office for something related to one of his business partners, but he should be back soon. In the meantime, you're free to do whatever you please. You can ask for whatever drink you want, everything's already been paid for. When Mr. Jackson returns, there'll be a dinner, followed by dessert, I think I heard that he's going to make some speeches, and then the rest of the night is a party until you decide to leave." Huey nodded, thanked Kyle, and was suddenly left alone.
This was a lot more intimidating than Huey had expected. The stares were starting to make him even more uncomfortable now, and Huey hated to admit that. It took a lot to make someone like Huey Freeman uncomfortable.
He decided to get a drink - some bourbon - and began walking around the floor, glancing at people as he did so. He was trying to not acknowledge the whispering he could very clearly hear, but it was getting pretty hard to. Instead, he decided to study his surroundings a bit more, glancing around as he took small sips from his drink.
This floor was pretty much like the first three; the same kind of vibe and set up, the same purple and multi colored lights, the same kind of stage. There were tables directly in front and to the left and right of the large stage, which left the rest as open space. Huey noted the bar at the entrance to the floor, but realized there was a second bar deeper in, near the furthest wall from the elevator. He could see there weren't as many people surrounding this one, so he decided that this would be his safe haven until he needed to find Daniel.
As he was approaching the bar, he heard commotion to his left. Standing near a pillar was a tall white man, most likely a few years older than Huey. He had red hair like Kyle, and green eyes. Standing next to him was another equally tall white man, only with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were both dressed up rather lavishly, with the first man donning a chain around his neck that bore the letter 'W' in diamonds.
That's probably a Wuncler, Huey thought, but I don't think it's Mr. Wuncler, Sr. Maybe a cousin, nephew? Grandson?
The two men were talking loudly to other patrons, with the first man holding a bottle of liquor in one hand while he spoke. The people around him were listening intently to what he was spewing, along with the input of his partner every few sentences, but Huey could hardly make any sense of it. No one else seemed to understand much of what the man was saying either, and they only responded by either laughing loudly after each sentence or nodding vigorously.
"That's Ed Wuncler III." A voice beside him spoke. Huey turned and had to look down; it was a waitress, a young white girl. She was holding a tray of drinks, "He's the grandson of Mr. Wuncler, Sr." she went on. She looked up at him, smiling softly, "I've never seen you here before, so I'm assuming you're not from Woodcrest."
Huey shook his head, "I'm from Chicago. I'm here to see Mr. Jackson, when he gets here." She nodded, "So are most of the people here," she gestured around the room with her eyes. She turned back to smile at him, "Good luck." She said shortly, and she began weaving through the tables, going back to her job.
Huey turned his attention away from Ed Wuncler and his friend, and continued on towards this second bar. By now, he couldn't see anyone else sitting this far away from where most of the action was happening, which was perfect for him. The lights flashed into his eyes as he walked.
Okay so, all I gotta do is make it through a few hours, he reasoned with himself. Jackson will get here, I hit him with some bullshit about Parkins and Tilling, and I can be on my way back to my room. Huey had no intention on staying any longer than he needed to, even though there would probably be plenty of entertainment for the rest of the night. On any other occasion, he would be enticed to stay longer, but with the current welcoming he was getting from other patrons in the club, he knew he would be stretching out his invitation.
Maybe Woodcrest has more to offer than...this. He made a small face thinking about that, his brow furrowing for a moment before relaxing again. Eh, it's worth a shot.
He took another sip of his drink, trying to ignore the loudness behind him. He knew he wasn't going to be able to escape it, but he was hoping retreating this far back into the floor would offer him some seclusion from the rest of the crowd.
He was only a few feet away from the barstools when he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide as he nearly dropped his drink.
There was a large copper colored afro bobbing slightly to the beat of the music that played. He could see the back of a woman; she had slender shoulders and arms, and wore a very long purple dress. It hugged her body tightly, showing off her very noticeable curves, along with most of her slim, smooth back. He saw her reach down to pick up a glass in front of her, and she tilted her head back to down the liquid before setting it back down.
It was then that she swiveled around in the barstool, now facing Huey.
From the front, Huey could see the rest of her dress, which had thin sleeves and had a very low, v-shaped neckline, showing off a lot of cleavage. Her skin wasn't quite white, but it wasn't very dark, either. From there, Huey's eyes traveled to her face, which was slender, with high cheekbones and full, pouty lips. She wore makeup, and when she looked up at him, he felt his voice catch in his throat.
He was staring into the most beautiful emerald orbs he'd ever seen. They were large and bright, full of laughter and warmth. They caught sight of him, and the woman cocked her head to the side, her already large eyes widening when she noticed him.
Everything around him faded as Huey stared at this beautiful young woman, who stared right back without even blinking.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Huey straightened up and approached the woman, who only gawked at him. Trying to not be too awkward, he gestured to the barstool to her right, "Is this seat taken?" he asked.
The woman's facial expression never changed, but she shook her head. Huey sat down, still facing her, "This must be awkward," he admitted, "I'm Huey, Huey Freeman." He watched her eyes change from shock to acknowledgement, like she'd snapped out of her own trance.
Gingerly, she raised a hand, which Huey took into a handshake. Her hand was small compared to his, and yet they were so warm. Then, the woman smiled, her white teeth illuminated in the lights as a shiver went down Huey's spine.
"My name's Jazmine," she spoke in a fluid, melodic voice, "Jazmine Dubois."