Chapter Sixteen
Dealing with haters…
Melquan and Mike Copeland entered the building looking like millions. Fresh to death, Melquan was outfitted in white Versace button down shirt with turquoise cufflinks, blue True Religion jeans, and Louis Vuitton loafers. Mike Copeland was Ed Hardy down, jeans, hat, shirt and black Prada shoes. The only thing lacking was jewelry. Melquan and Mike Copeland both felt like they didn’t need any. Their luxurious whips would provide any X-factor.
An unmarked DT car drove through the drive as the duo were about to get into their rides. There were three officers riding in the undercover car, slowly rolling by. All eyes were focused on Melquan and Mike Copeland getting into their expensive rides. Mike Copeland coldly stared back at the detectives. Melquan avoided all eye contact with their icy grills. The cops nodded and kept on driving.
Mike Copeland and Melquan from the projects getting in posh European cars burned them up. On their present salary, none of the cops could afford any of those vehicles. One detective couldn’t help but speak on it.
“Tommy, can you tell me where the hell these bastards are getting all that money from?” the detective asked.
“What do you know something that I don’t know,” another said. “I’m interested in finding out.”
“Crack baby. This is the crack cocaine city! These sons of bitches are making a fortune pushing that poison,” Tommy answered.
“You know what Tommy?” the first detective asked. “Maybe we’re in the wrong business. What you think?”
“Hey, maybe... It looks like now is a good time to be a bad guy, huh?”
Occupants of the undercover car exploded in laughter. They drove though the horseshoe, observing for awhile then they drove off.
By the time Melquan and Mike Copeland arrived Smitty’s on Tremont Avenue in the Bronx, there was a line in front the club. Mike Copeland gave the bouncer a hundred dollar bill and the duo breezed through the door and security checkpoint. They were inside once admission was paid. The hot spot was crowded and swarming with fine women.
The club’s sound system pumped the latest R&B and rap records. Swigging bottle after bottle, Melquan and Mike Copeland were thrust into an intense party. Bouncing to the club’s atmosphere, the stress from the streets quickly dissolved. The duo relaxed and were blending in.
Young Jeezy featuring Jay Z and Fat Joe, Go Crazy blasted through the speakers. Melquan and Mike Copeland smiled at revelers dancing and mingling.
When they play a new Jeezy all the dope boys go crazy
and watch the dope boys go crazy!
I pop my collar then I swing my chain
You can catch me in the club, pimpin doin my thang Aye...
“Da spot’s jumpin’, you smellin’ me, my dude?”
“Yeah, it’s a good night to be out gettin’ that groove on,” Melquan observed, surveying the room. “Stay on point Mike. I seen a few heads from the hood up in here.”
“I got you, my dude.”
“Let’s go sit up in VIP,” Melquan suggested. “Just feel like sittin’, chillin’ watchin’ these broads.”
“That’s what’s up,” Mike Copeland said, looking at the girls dancing in the club.
They were seated and drinks were ordered in the VIP section by the time Fat Joe’s verse rang through.
What up Jeez
Cracks...life, what’s the matta wit yo head?
Cracks...life, all you niggaz gon end up dead
Cracks...life, everybody servin rat till he ride
Everybody think they somebody, till somebody end up shot
Listen, I’m in that GT, Choppa on the passenger side
No skeets skeets, choppa on the passenger side
The sound of popping champagne bottles attracted the girls’ eyes and in a hot New York, Melquan and Mike Copeland became the center of attraction.
“Yo, Mike, cheers,” Melquan announced. “Here’s to us. May our run be long.”
“Yeah, yeah you already know my dude. Edenwald projects in da buildin’…!”
Toasting and laughing, the duo danced around with a group of party hearty girls while Kanye West and Lupe Fiasco remix of Touch The Sky, thumped through the club’s speakers.
I gotta testify, come up in the spot looking extra fly
For the day I die, I’m a touch the sky
Gotta testify, come up in the spot looking extra fly
For the day I die, I’m a touch the sky
The night wore on and pretty young ladies for the picking, flocked around the duo’s table. Mike Copeland already helped himself, grabbing up on every pretty face that passed. Meanwhile Melquan eyed a voluptuous dark skin cutie. He corned her and began rapping to her, feeding her drink after drink. Melquan and Mike Copeland felt like they had the keys to the city. They were having fun when suddenly out of nowhere Precious appeared. Looking stunning in her simple black dress and jewelry, she was seething in her six-inch heels. Mike Copeland’s jaw dropped when he saw her.
“Damn! Precious is that you…? Ooh-whee…!” Mike Copeland whistled and laughed. “You stepped your game up! I take back every bad think I ever thought about you.”
“Mike, shut up!” Precious snapped, brushing him aside.
She couldn’t resist smiling at the backhand of a compliment, but she was not in the mood for Mike Copeland’s sarcasm, no matter how true it was. She wanted Melquan to shower her with compliments. Precious was here to make Melquan see her. She waited for a few minute. Nothing came. It was as if she was not even there. Precious turned away and moved closer to Mike Copeland.
“Mike, what’s the matter with your friend?” she asked.
“Fuck I’m ‘pose to know? I can’t even speak for the next man. He right there, why don’t you ask him?”
“Hi Mel,” Precious leaned over and said. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t speak?”
“I’m chillin’. What the fuck you doin’ up in here anyway?”
“Nigga, I’m grown! I didn’t know I needed ya damn permission to go out!”
“I ain’t sayin’ that, but I wish I would’ve known you was gonna be up in here.”
“Nigga, pul-leeze, this a few muthafuckin’ country last time I checked… Anyway, I heard you, Mike and ya moms copped some whips today. What’s up with that? I thought I was gonna be the first bitch to ride up in your new joint?”
“You thought wrong.”
Melquan was tight, he wasn’t feeling Precious’ drama queen act. It turned him off, and turning away, he totally ignored her. Melquan continued eyeing the good looking, butter Rican. He raised his champagne glass to the cutie he was admiring before Precious’rude interruption. Precious saw him smiling, and was about to explode.
“Yo ma, don’t leave here without givin’ me ’em digits,” he said, knowing the comment would bother Precious.
Jealousy raised its ugly head and Precious was pissed. She purposely bumped the table spilling drinks. The mess she created forced Melquan, Mike Copeland, and their groupies to temporarily vacate the vicinity. Precious was planning on bringing the drama, and walked away while a Mexican porter cleaned up.
“You wildin’ right now,” Mike Copeland said. “If you gon’ act like dat you shoulda stayed yo ass home! Can’t take you niggas nowhere, I swear!”
Precious could hear Mike Copeland’s comment and fired back. “Fuck you Mike! I ain’t in the mood fa ya shit.”
Melquan continued to flirt with all the pretty ladies drifting by him. Mike Copeland stayed as far away from Precious as possible. It was clear from her stink attitude that at any given moment, she was ready to black out on Melquan.
Once the area was all cleaned up, Melquan and Mike Copeland settled back into their spot. Precious eventually followed.
Couple more bottles of champagne and Melquan was really getting loose. Dancing around with several flirty women, he was laughing, enjoying himself. The women walked away and with champagne glass in hand, Melquan was left two-stepping to the beat of Game featuring Fifty Cent, Hate It Or Love It.
Hate it or love it the under dog’s on top
And I’m gon shine homie until my heart stop
Go ‘head and envy me…
Precious walked up on Melquan. He was in full grove, holding his drink and two-stepping.
“Melquan, dance with me…?”
“Nah, I don’t dance,” he replied easily.
Precious glanced at Mike Copeland, trying not to show that was pleading. He shook his head, sipped and spoke.
“Don’t bother even lookin’ dis way. You know gangstas don’t dance.”
“Whatever, Mike. Melquan will you please dance with me…?”
“I thought I answered that one already.”
“Melquan…?”
“What I say?”
Precious moved nearer to Mike Copeland. She was feeling dejected. Mike Copeland glanced quickly at her, and turned his attention to a brown skinned beauty walking by close. The gorgeous butter Rican pecan returned and grabbed Melquan. Dragging him to the dance floor, she moved closer to him. Much to the dismay of Precious, Melquan willingly danced with her all over him.
“Did you see that shit, Mike? What your man did is soo foul. Fuck him!”
“Why you gettin’ mad at me for…?”
“Y’all are the same! I could be out fuckin’ with mad niggas. But nah, I’m thinking that the nigga wants me a little bit. But he playin’me, Mike,” Precious screamed, breaking down emotionally.
“I ain’t the one doin nothin’ so why you screamin’ at me fam?”
“This nigga don’t appreciate the sacrifices I’ll be making for his ass. How he gonna just straight up dis me like this…? But you watch... Watch, I got sumthin for his muthafuckin’ ass!” she said, sashaying away.
“Precious do me a favor and make sure you get ya revenge on the right person.” Mike Copeland warned. “Miss me wit da bullshit. Whateva y’all got goin’ is between y’all so keep it that way, a’ight?”
Precious said nothing else, but rolled her eyes at Mike and walked away. She gave no indication that she would comply with his request. Mike Copeland watched the sway of Precious’ hips. Damn! She sure came dressed to win her man. Mike’s thoughts were abruptly disturbed by another fatty swaying his way.
Meanwhile, on the dance floor, Melquan was enjoying himself. It had been a minute that he had really rocked out, and was doing it up to the max. He never saw the two guys grilling him from the bar. Mike Copeland came to his rescue, alerting him. Melquan instantly saw the haters scheming.
“Okay, Melquan that’s enough of this dancing shit. Fuck you think you is? Usher?” Mike Copeland said, brusquely interrupting the dance. “It’s about that time to bounce, my dude.”
Melquan was having so much fun and didn’t realize that Precious had disappeared. How fast the time had flown. Mike Copeland downed another drink while Melquan wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with a napkin. Always security conscious Mike Copeland began to survey the crowd. Once again he spotted the same two dudes at the bar.
“Yo, don’t look now” he said between clenched teeth. “But there’s two muthafuckas at the bar. They been gettin’ they hatin’ on all fuckin’ night, my dude.”
Melquan coolly scanned the bar with his eye until he found the two men in question.
“Yeah, Mike, I see ’em.”
“They been eyeballin’ me for the longest, Mike. They ain’t been drinkin’, talkin’ to no bitches, lookin like they havin’ no kinda fun. Them niggas just straight sizin’ nigga’s up. Starin’ at us like they want beef,” Melquan said.
“They don’t want no trouble, Mel.”
“Mike, they sure actin’ like it. We gotta be careful goin’ back to da whips this ain’t exactly our neck of the woods. If they gone try sumthin’ they gonna try it then.”
“You a’ight, Melquan? You not drunk or nothing like that, right?”
“I’m good, Mike. I can drive. Now, I’m ready for whateva, and that’s my word!”
“A’ight my nigga, let’s get da fuck up outta here then,” Mike Copeland said.
They immediately got up and walked out of the lounge area and made it to the bar. Suddenly Mike Copeland stopped and smiled.
“Hey man, don’t I know y’all from somewhere? Y’all look real familiar like I seen y’all before?” Mike Copeland said, wearing a fake smile. “Riker’s…? Up north…?
“Nah nigga, you don’t know us. We ain’t from ‘roun here,” one of the mean-mugging thugs said.
“You might be mistaken,you know?” the other said.
“Yeah, my bad, I feel you,” Mike Copeland said, quickly pulling the burner out.
It lit up the place in a hurry, and happened real fast. No one but the parties involved saw the flash from the muzzle. Then three shots rang out. Some patrons couldn’t hear the explosion over the music. They danced on like it was a sound effect from the deejay. Others who were close enough to see the spark, ran for the exits. The hysteria quickly spread like wildfire, and mayhem broke loose.
Patrons reacted to what they saw others doing, and raced to the exits. Mike Copeland shot the pair of haters. One man was hit in the stomach, and the other in the back. They were both left leaking and squirming on the floor.
“You right, you don’t know me either! If you did you would’ve known not to front on me,” Mike Copeland said, and casually walked out of the chaotic nightclub.
