Neon Lights

The neon lights of the club flashed as the bass from the music vibrated through the walls, mingling with the chatter and laughter of the crowd. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, perfume, and the faint hint of smoke.

Devon and Arell were posted up at a VIP section they had secured for the night while Devon and Kenny were off in the center of the club dancing alongside others. Arell was surrounded by Adolph and a crew of people from Memphis who had come along for the show. The section was lively, filled with laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of cheers as another round of shots was downed.

Girls were everywhere, some dancing, some lounging on the plush seats, while others were chatting with members of the group.

Arell's phone buzzed with a message from Geoffrey: "Remember, have fun but keep it within $2k. Don't blow your performance money tonight."

Arell smiled, appreciating Geoffrey's reminder. He knew the importance of making a good impression without going overboard.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked around at the lively scene.

People around Arell took another round of shots, cheering loudly and clinking their glasses together. Arell, however, held back, knowing he was under 21 and wanting to keep his head clear. One of the guys in the crew noticed and tried to pressure him.

"Come on, man! Don't be shy. It's just one shot!" the guy urged in his deep Memphis accent, holding out a glass to Arell.

Before Arell could respond, Adolph stepped in, his voice firm. "Let gang rest if he don't want to. He don't want to." Adolph's presence was commanding, and the guy quickly backed off, mumbling an apology.

"Thanks." Arell said, grateful for the intervention.

"No problem, man. If you ain't drinking don't let no nigga' pressure you." Adolph replied, giving him a reassuring nod.

As the night continued, some of the strippers in the section came over, bringing plates of food. They placed the trays on the table, offering a variety of appetizers and snacks. The smell of the food mingled with the other scents in the air, adding to the sensory overload of the night.

Other strippers moved through the section, dancing and mingling with the guys. The atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and the steady thump of the music. Devon was sitting quietly, sipping on his drink and observing the scene with a reserved demeanour.

"Free up, Devon," Arell said, noticing his friend's quietness. "Here, you can go throw some bills." He handed Devon $200.

Devon hesitated, looking at the money and then at Arell. "Geoffrey told me to watch you, make sure you're good." he said, his voice low.

"I'll be straight, man. Just go have some fun," Arell insisted, smiling at his friend.

Devon contemplated for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Alright," he said, taking the money. "But if you need anything, just holler."

"I got you." Arell assured him.

Devon left the section, heading towards the dance floor where people were already throwing bills, Arell watched as Devon joined in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw his friend starting to loosen up.

Suddenly, one of his own songs began to play through the club's sound system. The familiar beat of Loyalty Ties filled the air, and Arell's smile widened. He made his way to the balcony overlooking the dance floor and raised his hand in acknowledgment toward the DJ booth. DJ Toom, who was one of the DJs at the Tabernacle, noticed him and sent back a wave, a nod of respect exchanged between them.

As Arell stood on the balcony, soaking in the moment, a pretty stripper approached him. She was slim, with a curvaceous figure that caught his eye immediately.

"Heyyy, you're Arell, right?" she said, her voice sultry.

"Yeah, that's me," Arell replied, giving her a smile.

"I saw your performance tonight. You were amazing." she said, her eyes sparkling as She placed a hand lightly on his arm.

"Thank you." Arell responded, feeling a mix of pride and bashfulness. He wasn't used to this kind of attention, that he had lately been receiving but it was flattering.

"So, why don't you have a drink in your hand?" she asked, her tone playful but with a hint of insistence.

Arell smiled, shaking his head. "I'm under 21, so I'm taking it easy tonight."

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Come on, I can get you something. No one has to know."

Before Arell could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. "Arell! We're about to take some flics. Come on."

Arell turned to see Markeyvius standing there with a grin.

"Alright," Arell said, nodding to Markeyvius. He glanced back at the stripper with an apologetic smile. "I'll see you."

"Don't keep me waiting." she said with a wink before stepping back.

Arell and Markeyvius made their way to the other area of the balcony, where a group of guys were already gathered. They lined up at the railing, looking out over the bustling dance floor below. One of the photographers from the Tabernacle, who had a camera ready, directed them into position.

"Alright, everyone, smile and look like you're having the time of your lives." the photographer called out.

Arell, Adolph, Markeyvius, and the others leaned against the railing, flashing grins and throwing up hand signs. The camera clicked, capturing the moment. After a few more shots, they decided to take it up a notch.

"Let's make it rain!" someone suggested, pulling out a stack of bills.

They all grabbed some money and leaned over the railing. The photographer moved downstairs, positioning himself to get the perfect angle. On his signal, Arell and the others held up their stacks of cash, throwing the bills into the air. The money fluttered down like confetti, catching the neon lights as it fell.

After, Arell chatted with some of the guys, they talked about the night, the show, and the energy of the club.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a microphone being picked up. The music dimmed slightly, and a voice boomed through the speakers.

"Wassup y'all!" came the familiar voice of Ludacris He stood in the center of the club with the DJs, a wide grin on his face.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Arell turned his attention to the center of the club. Ludacris continued, "Y'all having a good night or what?"

The crowd responded with an enthusiastic roar, and Ludacris laughed. "That's what I like to hear! We turnt up in here tonight! Shout out to everybody having a good time, to the DJs for keeping it lit, and to all the beautiful ladies in the house!"

He paused, scanning the crowd, his smile never fading. "I see a lot of familiar faces tonight. Shout out to all the athletes, the ballers, and the hustlers' making moves. I see you, what's up Paul Millsap, keeping it hot on the court!"

The crowd roared louder as Ludacris continued, "And of course, shout out to all the artists and label folks here tonight. Shareefa, my man Jeezy in the house too, I see you, man! You're killing it out here. And a special shout out to all the producers making the magic happen behind the scenes."

Ludacris then launched into a series of jokes, keeping the crowd laughing and engaged. He had a natural charisma and energy that filled the room.

As Ludacris wrapped up his speech, the crowd cheered and applauded. He raised his drink in a toast, "Here's to a night we won't forget, and to many more to come! Let's keep this party going!"

The music resumed, even louder and more energetic than before. While Arell felt the urge to pee, so he headed downstairs toward the bathroom section. The club's layout was slightly confusing, and as he navigated the corridors, he became a bit disoriented.

He opened a door that led him down another corridor, still searching for the bathrooms. He began to faintly hear the thumping of music, but not from the back in the club's main section but rather from a door further down the hall.

Arell furrowed his brow in confusion and curiosity. "What the hell?" he muttered to himself, pausing in front of a door where the noises seemed to be coming from.

Before he could make a decision, someone tapped his shoulder from behind. Startled, his heart jumped out of his chest, and he quickly turned around.

A tall man in a suit stood before him, his expression serious. "I wouldn't go in there if I were you." the man said in a low voice.

Arell took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "Ok." he said.

The man shook his head slightly, his gaze steady. "This is not a place for guests. This way." he said, motioning for Arell to follow him.

Arell hesitated for a moment but then decided it was best to heed the man's warning. He followed the man back down the corridor.

"You're new here?" the man asked as they walked.

"Yeah, I performed tonight," Arell replied, trying to sound casual despite his lingering unease.

The man nodded. "Stick to the main areas. The club can be a bit of a maze if you don't know your way around."

They reached another corridor that led back to the main floor, and the man pointed toward a sign indicating the bathrooms. "There you go. Just down that hall."

"Thanks," Arell said, genuinely grateful for the help.

"No problem. Enjoy your night," the man replied, giving Arell a slight nod.

As the man headed further down the hall Arell could hear his faint mutterings. "Where is that damn guard."

Dismissing whatever had the man sounding worried, Arell made his way to the bathroom, still feeling a bit shaken by the encounter.

As he washed his hands, he glanced at himself in the mirror, his mind racing with questions about what he'd almost walked into. He decided to put it out of his mind for now and focus on enjoying the rest of the night.

Arell then headed back into the club, making a mental note to avoid the corridor he had just been led away from. The neon lights, thumping music, and vibrant energy pulled him back into the party atmosphere.

As he made his way through the crowd, a random drunk guy stumbled into him, wrapping his arm around Arell's shoulders. "Hey, man! You're the guy who performed tonight, right? You killed it!" the drunk guy slurred, swaying unsteadily.

"Thanks, man," Arell replied, gently disentangling himself from the man's grasp. He patted the guy on the back and carefully maneuverer away.

Back at the VIP section, Arell found a spot to sit and chill for a bit. Malik, Devon and Kenny were still throwing bills and dancing, while Adolph and the Memphis crew were throwing dice and taking shots all the while, the strippers continued to move around, dancing and entertaining the group.

Arell sat back, feeling the bass of the music pulse through his body, and watched the scene unfold. His earlier unease began to fade as he soaked in the energy around him. A few strippers danced close to him, pressing their bodies against him. Arell felt a mix of hesitation and fascination, still not entirely comfortable with the attention.

The pretty stripper from earlier approached him again, this time carrying a glass. She smiled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hey, Arell. I brought you a drink, you look a bit…bland." she said, holding out the glass to him.

Arell took the glass but hesitated. "What's in it?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light but firm.

She laughed softly, her breath warm against his ear. "Don't worry, it's not alcohol. Just something to keep you in the mood."

Arell raised an eyebrow. "What is it, exactly?"

"It's a special club mix. Trust me, you'll like it." she said with a wink.

Arell took a very small sip, just enough to taste. It seemed normal, but he still didn't fully trust it. "I'm good, thanks." he said, placing the glass on the table beside him.

The stripper pouted playfully. "Come on, Arell. Just one drink won't hurt." she said, leaning in closer. She moved to sit on his lap, her body pressing against his in a way that made it hard for him to move.

Before Arell could react, she picked up the glass again and brought it to his lips. "For me?" she asked, her voice soft and persuasive. Her eyes locked onto his, and she slowly tilted the glass, making it difficult for him to refuse without causing a scene.

Caught off guard, Arell took a reluctant sip. The stripper smiled, not letting up until he had taken a bigger gulp. The drink tasted sweet and fruity, with a hint of something he couldn't quite place. He swallowed, feeling a slight warmth spread through him.

"There you go," she said, her tone triumphant. "See? That wasn't so bad."

Arell nodded, though he still felt uneasy. He decided to keep his guard up and be cautious about what he consumed for the rest of the night. The stripper slipped off his lap, giving him a playful wink before moving to entertain someone else.