“Where’s Syn? Why hasn’t she been involved in the planning of this weekend?” I nodded my head toward Chanell.
“Shit. Syn’s ass is doing what Syn know how to do best. She been drunk since she got here. She drove down with her cousins because her dumbass got into it with Kid when Petey was booking our flights and rooms down here. It got to the point where he said ‘fuck her’ and told us to book without her. So she packed her cousins and friends in two cars and came down drunk as hell. Kid was so fucking mad. I keep telling Syn that she fuckin’ up with him. She just don’t know how to express herself, then get mad, get drunk, and fuck up everything.”
Hmmmmmm… “That’s too bad,” I sympathized and couldn’t help but to wonder what her problem was with me.
Kim cut her words short because the girls started taking their seats at the table. Kid glided into the room without Syn and we all shouted birthday greetings out of sequence. He smiled and waved. I noticed his oversized Versace shades that were likely to fa?ade his hangover.
“Hey, party people,” he greeted.
By this time Azmir and Petey had returned to the table and gave Kid birthday dabs the way that manly men do. Almost immediately after, Syn wandered in about a half of a dozen deep with her girls. Kid sat across the table from Kim and me. Syn took her rightful place to the left of him placing her directly across the rectangular table from Petey. Kim sat face to face with a recovering Kid.
Syn didn’t acknowledge me at all, but took on a heavy conversation with Kim. I chalked it up to her simply not liking me and certainly wouldn’t allow it to damper my mood. In all truth, I’d much prefer not to share space with her either, but had no choice.
We were all seated and eating at the table. Conversations flowed, everyone seemed to have been engaged in one. The spread was great with an assortment of traditional breakfast and lunch menu items, none of which my diet called for and I did the best I could to exercise self-control. Azmir offered to order me a vegetable omelet, but I whispered my adamance of not wanting to draw attention to myself at Kid’s birthday celebration. I stuck with eggs and fruit.
I caught Syn gawking into my profile and could see from my peripheral view when she shoved the girl next her who automatically looked at me. I could tell she spoke about me to them beforehand. I simply shook it off as I always do.
Azmir seemed to be relaxed and Wop and the other Clan members weren’t shy of stories filled with doltish gossip from the neighborhood. At some point during the sit-down, the waiters served us all mimosas to my dismay and Wop stood and tapped his glass, trying to make an announcement.
We all quieted down, giving him our undivided attention. “X’cuse me, er’body. I just wanna show sum love to my dude who done took me under his arm and showed me sum love over the years. He make sure I keep gettin’ money to feed my son. He don’t hate. He always got my back. And…dis is from me to you, playa.”
Wop pulled out a massive square gift wrapped case and handed it to Kid. After the unwrapping, it revealed a bright, clustered diamond chain with a humongous diamond crusted cross. It was every bit of what you see your average rapper wearing. So them. But I could appreciate the sentiment behind it. From the sounds of it, Wop was gifting his mentor and that was admirable within itself.
“Thanks, man. Love you, man.” Kid beamed, giving him some special handshake that I’d seen of this “Clan” and pulling him into a bear hug.
What type of work did Wop do to earn the money for such a piece of jewelry? I could only imagine the expense. Kid slid the chain over his neck and the girls clicked pictures on their phones.
“Dat’s stacks on stacks right there on ya’ neck, play boy!” Wop shouted as he sat down. The girls at the table oooooh’ed and ahhhhhh’ed in amazement of the bling.