When The Play Is Set Up
By the Saturday of my second week in Houston, I was convinced that I had made the right decision by relocating. Swiyah, the owner of the luxury spa, was amazing. She'd embraced me without hesitation—welcoming me into the Kneaded family on the strength of Jade's recommendation—and sent most of the walk-ins in my direction to help me build clientele. I was sanitizing my table after one such client when Jade leaned against the frame of the open doorway and smiled at me.
"How you liking it so far?"
Stowing the bottle of disinfectant inside of a cabinet, I answered her while washing my hands.
"Call me McDonald's because I'm lovin' it."
"Aye, that's what's up!" She laughed and moved further into the room, sinking down into the chair in the corner that clients used to hold their clothes during a session. "So, listen. I'm going to this concert tonight night with my baby brother and his girlfriend, and I think you should come with us. I know you said you don't listen to a lot of rap but Xeno is—"
"Ooh, I've heard of Xeno! Jeremiah listens to her all the time."
Jade gave me a blank look and I chuckled and shook my head lightly. I'd forgotten that no one here knew my people back home. "Jeremiah is Lisa's husband." When Jade mouthed "oh" I added, "Xeno is one of his favs, so I've heard a little bit of her music a time or two. Enough to enjoy myself at her show, I think."
"Perfect! My brother has the tickets, so we have to meet him at the venue. I can pick you up so that you don't have to worry about getting lost downtown or finding parking."
"Aw, thanks Jade. That's so thoughtful of you and I will accept. Just let me know what time to be ready."
"Shad wants to get there at exactly at eight, so how about I pick you up at six-thirty so we can grab dinner and a few drinks beforehand?"
Glancing at my watch, I noted that it was almost four. I didn't have any appointments that afternoon and Swiyah had already stopped by and let me know I could leave whenever I felt like it today. "Sounds good. That gives me more than enough time to shower and do something with my hair."
"Great!" Jumping up from the chair, Jade bounced out of the room, leaving me to finish cleaning before I grabbed my bag and left the spa to head to my apartment.
It didn't take me long to get ready, pairing dark gray jeggings with a pale pink, cropped, racerback shirt and crocheted hoop earrings. The look wasn't complete until I stepped into my retro 12s, the wolf-grey and racer-pink complementing my outfit almost too perfectly. With my thick hair twisted and pinned around my head like a Grecian crown, I was slicking on mascara when I heard Jade's knock at the door.
She took me to The Greenery, a vegetarian restaurant that she said wasn't far from the concert venue. I oohed and ahhed over the descriptions in the menu before settling on deep-fried oyster mushrooms and crispy black eyed pea fritters with a side of sweet corn and smoky collard greens. The server disappeared with our orders and I sipped on my jalapeño margarita that he'd already delivered. It was spicy with a sweet aftertaste that worked surprisingly well.
"So," I started, sitting my drink back on the table and giving Jade my attention, "why do you guys have an extra ticket? Did Melissa back out?"
Jade shook her head and swallowed the mouthful of her own drink that she'd just imbibed—a Moscow mule crafted with locally sourced vodka and in-house made ginger beer.
"Girl, no. Mel had to work a game so she was a no-go from the jump. My brother thinks he's being slick; he wanted me to bring a date so we could double. I swear, as soon as him and his girlfriend finally got together he started a Love Tour 2K19; trudging along annoyingly, trying to help all of the single people in his life find love." Rolling her eyes, she shook her head once more and took another sip of her drink.
"Won't he just assume that I'm your date?"
She giggled. "Not at all. The little fucker pays attention too well; he knows my type almost better than I do."
After more than a year of getting to know Jade online, I knew a little bit about her type as well, but just to fuck with her I scrunched my face up and scoffed in faux-offense.
"Are you saying that I'm not your type?!"
Using her straw, Jade fished a piece of ice out of her copper mug and tossed it at me. "I'm not about to play with your ass."
Laughing, I lifted the ice cube from where it landed in my lap and tossed it back at her. "So sorry that I'm not girly enough for your tomboy ass."
Her brows rose. "The woman who brought two trunks of carefully packed, nearly pristine sneakers with her to Texas is calling me a tomboy?! What a development!" She spread her arms and looked around as if someone was waiting to cosign for her bullshit.
"Don't you besmirch my innocent footwear with your judgment!" I could admit that I had an obsession with Jordans, but outside of wearing sneakers with almost everything, I was more femme than not. Jade was simply teasing me to avoid digging into her own preferences—which curiously seemed to align with the style of the woman she called her bestie—though I had no desire to unearth that.
We went back and forth, teasing and laughing, until our food arrived, and then all talk ceased as my mind was blown to bits by the delicious meal that was obviously crafted with all of the love in the world and then sent out to li'l ole me. I felt transported to my childhood when all my cousins were sent to my granny's house and we all sat on her porch, eating the meal she'd cooked up in that tiny kitchen of hers that didn't even have counters. That meal was an experience and I prayed that the couple of tears I shed after I swallowed the last bite of the mushroom didn't cause my mascara to run.
Two more drinks, a full belly, and a huge tip later, we climbed into Jade's car and headed to the venue. True to Jade's word, the drive took less than ten minutes, and soon we were walking up to the building and joining the small line that had already formed even though the lit marquee said the show didn't start for another forty-five minutes. A tall, slender man with a low haircut, and a short woman about my height with a huge afro were ahead of us in line. Jade reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder and when he spun to face us, the confusion on his handsome face morphed into a huge grin.
"You had me worried for a minute," he admitted before wrapping Jade into a hug. He turned to me with a smile, but before he could speak Jade rushed to introduced me.
"Shad, this is my homegirl Trisha that I've been telling you about."
Shad nodded at me. "Nice to meet you, Trisha. This is my girlfriend, Aisha." Even though his tone was polite, Shad aimed an annoyed look at his sister who returned his stare with a silly grin.
With the both of them facing me, it was clear from their resemblance that this was her brother, even without her saying his name. They both possessed the same wide mouth, almond-shaped eyes, and warm brown skin.
"What happened to your date, Jade?"
Jade rolled her eyes. "I told your ass that I wasn't bringing a date. You're just hardheaded."
Aisha tugged on Shad's hand. "Leave her alone, Shad. She didn't say shit to you when you were out here playing does anybody wanna buy a heart. Give her that same respect."
"Thank you, Aisha! I'm so glad that my brother is with a woman who possesses some sense."
Ignoring Jade, Shad used their linked hands to tug Aisha closer to him, tucking her back against his chest and wrapping her in his arms as he nuzzled the side of her neck. My heart panged at the sweet sight. "I'm just saying, maybe you should have said something to me. We could have been together a long time ago."
Aisha laughed. "Uh, nah, player. I didn't even see you like that until…" she glanced over at me—noticing that I was unashamedly watching their entire interaction with an amused look—and nudged Shad. "Well, you know."
"Damn, babe, seriously? I was crushing on you hard for a while. You mean to tell me I was damn near in love before that first night and you were just—"
"Horny," Aisha provided in such a matter-of-fact tone that both Jade and I burst out laughing.
If the music was half as good as the show Shad and Aisha were putting on, the night was going to be a great one.
♥♥♥♥
When Thine Eyes Have Seen The Glory
I wasn't ready.
I thought I might have been because I'd heard a few of Xeno's songs—usually in passing— but those snippets didn't do her justice. In two hours and sixteen minutes my life was changed forever more. There were two openers, an Afro-Latina rapping duo out of El Paso who seamlessly weaved back and forth between English and Spanish as they rhymed about their journey to make it out of their poverty-stricken hometown, and a tiny wisp of a girl with a strong voice who sang three songs about unrequited crushes that reminded me of high school in the worst-best way.
At ten-thirty, all of the lights cut off, leaving the room pitch black for a couple of seconds before what I'd initially assumed was a white curtain on stage lit up like the back light on television, and an animated video appeared. The graphics were crisp and riveting, the hundreds—or thousands—of people in the room watching as a cartoon version of Xeno cruised the city in an old school Impala slab, complete with choppers and the trunk popped open, while a heavy, bass-laden instrumental played. Although I was feeling the music—my head bopping of its own volition—apparently, I was the only one in the room who didn't recognize the video or the music, if the steadily growing electric energy in the room buzzing and the volume growing louder and louder was any indication.
When the cartoon version of Xeno drove her car into the distance away from the crowd, the real Xeno ran on stage and immediately began rapping to the instrumental. The video morphed into a colorful light show, with multiple geometrics taking shape and pulsing to the bass. Peeling my eyes away from the screen, I finally took a good look at the woman on stage and immediately sucked in a breath.
The first thing that caught my eye was her long locs. Jet black and pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head, the pencil-thin strands hanging between her shoulder blades. She wore a plain, white t-shirt that clung to her slim frame and was tucked against a flat stomach, disappearing into black jeans that managed to be both tight and baggy, secured just below her hips with a wide, striped belt. A simple gold chain hung from her neck and laid flat against her shirt and she wore black and white Concords on her feet. If her warm, peanut butter-brown skin hadn't already reeled me in, her choice of footwear would have certainly done the job.
She moved around the stage with ease, engaging the audience from all sides, effortlessly captivating everyone in the room even though she was the only one on the stage. There was no hype man, no entourage, and not even a visible DJ center stage. Just Xeno and the screen behind her, the two working together to present an artfully curated set.
I was entranced by her. The way she commanded the stage and made it her own, the way she connected with the crowd, and—when I lessened the intensity of my focus and actually paid attention to the music—the way she painted a story with each song. The lyrics seeped into my soul and resonated with me, causing me to feel an even deeper connection with the woman on stage. It was silly because I didn't know her from a can of paint, but I felt like she knew me.
And even though I had no experience as a young, queer woman growing up in Houston, Texas, I still grasped the sentiment. It was relatable to my own journey of self-discovery. Of growing up in a small, mid-southern town and learning at a young age that I liked the girls in my class just as much as I liked the boys, and also realizing at the same time that only one of those would be accepted by my community and in my own home.
Xeno shifted from a history lesson to a sexy, innuendo-laced record aptly named "Drown Me" that had several women in the crowd twerking—myself included. She'd dropped down to her haunches, making the song feel intimate despite her speaking to so many people at once, and held the mic to her face as she gestured with her hand, pantomiming stimulation with her fingers while beckoning the women in the song to sit on her face.
Drown me
Got you juicy, baby/Running down your thighs
Drown me
Girl, give me that nut/Got me mesmerized
Well, damn! I didn't expect to be turned on by the lyrics to a song, and definitely not by the addicting cadence of Xeno's request. I enjoyed cunnilingus as much as the next girl, but there was something so deliciously nasty about discussing it front of a crowded room full of strangers. Pressing my hand to my chest, I willed my erratic heartbeat—the one behind my ribcage and the one in my panties—to slow the fuck down.
"What's wrong?"
Jade shouted her question in my ear and yet, I barely heard her over the roar in the room. Turning, I met her eyes and shook my head. No need for me to explain how I was deep in my feelings—and a lotta bit aroused—behind a concert.
"I'm good," I yelled back.
Her brows creased in a way that I read to mean "You sure?" to which I nodded to confirm my initial response. She stared at me for a long second before nodding and giving her attention back to Xeno. I blew out a soft breath and did the same. The rest of the concert followed the same vein, with Xeno demanding every bit of my attention and me giving it willingly. When the close of the show approached somewhere in or around the midnight hour, Xeno walked toward the front of the stage and sat down, her long legs hanging over the edge, causing an uproar amongst the revelers who showed up early to attain coveted front row spots at the general admission show. Although a four-foot gate kept them from reaching the stage, the two burly men who'd been monitoring the crowed throughout Xeno's entire set walked the space between the gate and the stage, parking on either side of Xeno with their arms crossed over their chests. Instead of glaring at the people on the other side of the gate, their heads bobbed to the music, garnering cries of "Aye!" from the crowd. Everyone quieted down when the music faded out and Xeno spoke.
"It's almost time to go, but you know I gotta go off the dome for y'all real quick."
The volume in the room shot through the roof as everyone yelled at once. Jade earned a double take and a startled laugh from me as she added, "Yes bitch! I know you give good dome!" She was off the damn chain, obviously high off of the endorphins of the spectacular show.
Xeno chuckled and gestured for us to quiet down. "LeeLee," she called out to her DJ, "drop something good."
Immediately, the unmistakable sound of DJ LeeLee scratching on her turntables filled the room and was straightaway followed by the instrumental of Slim Thug's "I Ain't Heard Of That". The next few minutes were mind-blowing and I felt like I was witnessing history being made. Xeno mastered the song, shouting out the rappers who had blazed the trail in Houston, and the women who were still doing the damn thing. She was funny, dropping jokes with clever wordplay, and political, speaking out on how—even though many strides had been made—the city still had a long way to go in its acceptance of the LGBT community.
She finished out by reinforcing her belief that there was no place like home, and when she pulled the microphone away from her mouth, chest heaving and face shiny with sweat, the room exploded with shouts and applause.
"Thank you," she said, "I love y'all." Then she walked off of the stage and didn't come back, even though more than a few people started chanting for an encore.
The room began to clear out, but at Shad's insistence, the four of us held back, waiting until the traffic jam at the doors had dispersed. Before we could start making our exit, however, a huge man with thick, freeformed locs even longer than Xeno's hanging around his head approached us. With his eyes on Shad, he said, "Hey man, Xeno invites you backstage for a private meet and greet."
My eyes grew wide with shock and from the startled expressions on Jade and Aisha's faces, it looked like they felt the same. Shad simply offered a wide, but surprised smile.
"Seriously? That's dope. Is it fine if these three come with me? I don't want to leave them out here alone."
The man nodded. "No problem. Follow me."
Shad looked at us and tilted his head toward the man. "Let's go."
We fell in line and I nudged Jade. When she looked at me, I cut my eyes to the obvious bodyguard leading us through a door on the left side of the stage, then back.
"Is this how y'all usually get down?"
Jade shook her head. "Hell no! I wish! I mean, it probably happens often to Shad, but this has never happened when I'm with him."
Without replying, I nodded and followed along until we were instructed to wait for Xeno. The man led us backstage to a space off to the side, where we could see the flurry of activity as the set got broken down by the crew. Shad pulled out his phone and started typing and Jade and Aisha began to chat excitedly, trying to include me in the conversation, but I was mute, too nervous to chatter idly.
I was anxious about meeting Xeno. The thought of experiencing that commanding presence up close made my heart pound with excitement. Not to mention, possibly meeting eyes with the woman who had given me some very erotic visions from a distance. How was I supposed to act with her within arm's reach? The last thing I wanted was to come off as a crazed fan, especially if I could possibly get the opportunity to get an autograph for Jeremiah. Fanning myself, I tried to cool off and get my breathing under control. I'd just experienced an amazing show and was about to meet the artist.
Things couldn't get better than this.