Page 1 of Ready or Not (The Nape #I)

“It’s too fucking hot outside for anyone to be smelling like a can of bounce that ass,” Penelope said as she approached the rest of us with a stank look on her face. “This place is too packed for that.”

“Who pissed you off?” Naomi asked. The sunshine brought out the warmth in her walnut skin tone as she lowered her Loewe square sunglasses to peek around the sea of people, searching for the root of Penelope's foul mood.

“Homeboy over there in the sky blue shirt sweating like hell done its big one on him.” Using her lips, she motioned in the perpetrator’s direction as she took a seat next to me on the rooftop’s faux-leather grey couch. “I could smell him before he tried to talk to me.”

“The one with that weird ass orangey-brown drink in his hand?” Naomi kept looking around.

I followed her gaze and immediately spotted a burly, short Black man leaning against the bar that Penelope had been talking about—his shirt drenched in so much sweat that it practically clung to his skin.

His dark hair clung to his forehead, and he seemed totally unaware of the damp patches spreading across his chest from his armpits.

As if drawn by our side-eyes, he turned his head in our direction, revealing a patchy beard that even Jesus couldn’t revive from the dead and we all shrieked.

“Oh my.” My body shuddered again. “That man’s marinating, and it’s not even that hot.”

Naomi let out a loud cackle, causing a couple of heads to turn in our direction. “He needs a fan.”

“And a shower.” Penelope rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the fruity cocktail she ordered for Naomi and me.

Having just finished my set for EverydayPPL, we decided to stop at a rooftop party at Elsie Rooftop to celebrate my biggest gig as a DJ.

The pounding bass of an amapiano beat from the makeshift music booth reverberated as we settled into some VIP seating that Penelope had secured for us.

The party was in full swing, with people mingling, dancing, and laughing like they had no worries in the world—saturated by the scents of sweat, sunscreen, over-priced perfume, and alcohol.

Even as the sun began to set, the heat clung to the scene.

It was another beautiful New York summer, the kind that should’ve made anyone forget their troubles—at least temporarily.

“Onto other things… Cheers to Sol for a beautiful set and for getting another big DJ check!” Naomi raised her glass, and Penelope and I clinked our drinks against hers.

I took a sip of my drink. The flavors of passionfruit and rum dance on my tongue. “I still can’t believe they reached out to me for it.”

“I can!” Penelope continued, her sepia colored hands squeezing my shoulder. “You’re picking up traction now that you’re doing bigger gigs, so it only makes sense.”

“First, it was Black House Radio performances,” Naomi listed as she sipped her drink, “then Soulection Radio, now EverydayPPL?—”

“Don’t forget her Boiler Room gig that’s happening in London next month,” Penelope added.

“I haven’t,” Naomi nodded, continuing. “I just wanna know if we can even afford to be her friends anymore since she’s making it big time.”

“Oh, please! I don’t think the celebrity aesthetician has a right to make that comment,” our friend Elizabeth said as she took a seat by us, looking at Naomi. “Last time I checked, you were busy doing people’s faces for the Met Gala.”

Her tawny finger pushed Naomi's oversized sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. Then, taking a seat between Naomi and me, Elizabeth chuckled.

“The shade.” Naomi playfully swatted her arm before turning back to me. “But seriously, Sol, we’re so proud of you. You killed it out there once again.”

“I tried my best.” I smiled gratefully at my friends, a warmth blooming in my chest at their words of encouragement.

“You didn’t just try your best,” Elizabeth said as she embraced me. “You killed that shit and everyone’s been talking about it like they always do. Shiiiit… it makes me proud that you stepped out of your comfort zone to explore this DJ-ing full time.”

DJ-ing was something I never imagined I’d have the courage to pursue full time—with my original day job as a game designer and all.

I had gotten comfortable keeping it as a hobby—despite my love for music, posting videos here and there online and playing at small events for fun.

However, thanks to a crappy relationship ending and the need for a new creative outlet that wasn’t in the corporate world, the realization for some change in my life was needed.

And music came to the rescue.

The feeling of control over a crowd as they danced and vibed to the music mixed was intoxicating, addicting—like I was riding a high that I never wanted to come down from.

“Yeah, I still can’t believe it myself.” I sipped on my drink, relaxing further into the seat as I watched the party unfold… only to see a familiar face in the crowd.

Great.

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned to see Penelope with her eyes squinting at me.

"You okay, girl?" she asked, her voice cutting through a mix of This Is How We Celebrate and Bhebha blasting through the speakers.

I forced a smile. “I’m good. Just… enjoying the view.”

Her brows furrowed as she looked over to where I was gazing.

She sighed upon seeing my ex-boyfriend lip-locked with some dark-skinned brunette I vaguely recognized from junior high—the same girl he once insisted was just a friend .

The sight was like a sucker punch to my gut, knocking the wind out of me even though I knew it was coming.

It was hard to avoid him living in the same city; he had his friends and places he liked to frequent, and they always seemed to collide with my friends’.

“Seriously?” Naomi exclaimed, her light brown eyes widening in disbelief as she followed Penelope’s gaze. “Is that asshole seriously here? Out of all places?”

“I thought this was an event solely for well-known creatives,” Elizabeth said, tucking a strand of her brown curls behind her ear. “So how in the hell did his finance bro ass get in?”

I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it off like it was no big deal, but the sight of him stung more than I cared to admit.

How can he move on so quickly after… Well, everything?

Naomi leaned in closer, pushing aside the Senegalese twists that shielded her face. “Can I go be petty?”

I shook my head, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to rise up. “It’s been nine months and I shouldn’t be caring. Let him have his fun.”

“And you guys were together for eight years.” Penelope squeezed my hand gently.

“You’re allowed to feel a way about it, Sol.

Y’all were just talking about finally considering couples therapy last month, and then he ghosted you.

Now he's trying to move on to the next one, as if it's nothing. It’s messed up.”

“I know, but—” I cut myself off, the lump forming in my throat making it hard to speak. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him let the woman he was with grind against him without a care in the world.

“I hate that I still feel something for him,” I admitted, my voice drowned out by the music. “It’s been nine months since we’ve broken up, but every time I get over it, he slips in and tries to undo the work I've done.”

Elizabeth wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a comforting side hug. “It’s okay to still have feelings, Sol. Healing isn’t a linear process.”

“Well, it should be.” I sighed. “I want to move on. I want to try dating for the first time in my life, especially since he was my first. I want something new for myself. Not constant reminders of him.”

“You know what…” Naomi said, an evil smirk appearing across her face as she flicked her red coffin acrylics against the rim of her drink. “Just say the word. I haven’t acted out in a week, and I’m down to stir the petty pot.”

I chuckled at Naomi’s offer, the corners of my lips curling up slightly despite the heaviness in my heart. “He’s not worth it and never was. Besides, we’re here to have a good time. Don’t let him ruin it.”

Naomi nodded, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes that made me slightly nervous as she chugged her cocktail, her gaze flickering back to my ex-boyfriend. “Okay, but…”

“But?” I glared.

She bit her lip. “I’m in the mood to dance and cause some chaos.”

“Naomi.” Penelope glared at her. “You better not?—”

Too late.

Dusting off her cheetah tube dress, Naomi sprang to her feet, her Senegalese twists bouncing with each sway of her hips as she danced towards the makeshift dance floor.

“Oh lord…” I watched in mock horror as she slid her way between my ex and his new fling, breaking apart their intimate moment.

The shock on my ex's face was priceless, quickly morphing into recognition, then annoyance, as Naomi continued to gyrate provocatively around them with another man, without missing a beat.

Penelope buried her face in her hands as she murmured something about not being responsible for her actions, while Elizabeth burst into a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe this.” I joined in on the laughter as my friend continued to annoy my ex.

“I—You know what?” Penelope threw her hands in the air, standing up as well. “Might as well have fun with her before shit hits the fan and she does something that gets us kicked out.”

Elizabeth shook her head, laughing, accepting Penelope’s extended hand and rose gracefully to her feet.

“You coming?” she turned to me, and I smiled at her, shaking my head no.

"I’m good.” I gathered my swirl-printed silk long dress so I wouldn’t accidentally trip over it while standing up. Throwing my empty cup into a nearby trash, I turned back to my friends. “I’m gonna go to the bar for another drink.”

“And then you better join us,” Penelope teased, flashing her dimpled smile as she pulled Elizabeth to the dance floor.

“Maybe!” I yelled after them, my voice lost in the thumping music.

As I made my way towards the bar, I couldn’t help but steal a glance back at my ex and his new fling, trying to pretend like nothing had happened—the smiles on their faces strained and forced.

A pang of satisfaction fluttered in my chest at the sight of them feeling a fraction of the discomfort I had experienced moments before.

But as quickly as it came, it dissipated, leaving behind a hollowness that reminded me of the heartache still lingering. Seeing him move on with someone new after the way he took our break-up stirred negative emotions inside of me, threatening to drag me back into a place I had healed from.

It was unfair that my emotions were still at his mercy even after all this time.

However, I refuse to let his lying ass ruin the great day I had.

Today was about me performing an amazing set that had the crowd of EverydayPPL screaming for more. It was about doing something I never thought I’d be able to do.

It was about my win.

Not about him moving on with some rebound like he wasn’t on my line a month ago—boohoo crying, asking me to give him another chance so we can rekindle whatever I thought we had.

But for once… Just once … I wanted his hold on me to vanish.

I was ready for something different.

New.

Sighing, I pushed through the crowd of people and finally reached the bar, the cool marble beneath my fingertips offering a slight reprieve from the warmth of the pulsating atmosphere.

I leaned against the counter, catching the eye of the brown-skinned bartender who was busy mixing drinks amidst the sea of people shouting out drink orders over the current DJ’s set.

“Can I get a mojito, please?” I said once I caught the attention of one of the bartenders.

“Actually,” a deep male voice cut from behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. In my peripheral vision, a muscular hand extended a card to the bartender. “Make that two. One for the pretty lady, and one for me.”