Sydney was quiet. She hadn't made one sound throughout.
"Who's Vickie?"
"My girlfriend." I sat in the lazy boy with both hands on the arms of the chair looking at Sydney as she stood up and walked towards the bathroom with a pigeon toed gait, stopping to glance over her shoulder at my face.
"Girlfriend?"
"Yeah." She turned back around leaning against the room's dresser a foot away from the open adjoining door looking at me incredulous.
"You've got a girlfriend? Let me process; you have a girlfriend that you snuck out on in the middle of the night, probably that Thunda person; snuck out to come here and fuck me, but you're still thinking about her while you're knee deep in my fucking ass. Damn nigga, you really know how to make a girl feel wanted."
"Wrong."
"Oh, you don't have a girlfriend? You didn't just blow my back, and ASS out while calling me by her motherfucking name; is that what you're telling me goddammit?!"
"I do have a girlfriend, but I didn't sneak out tonight."
"WHAT, IS THIS SOME POLY BULLSHIT YOU'RE ON, HUH?!!"
"No."
Sydney's green eyes fluttered profusely as she rocked her head horizontally tucking her chin rolling her shoulders before having another stab at our back and forth.
"Nigga, where's your girlfriend?"
"Dead."
There was an extended dead silence in the hotel room as I sat there watching Sydney who seemed lost for words. If I could adequately describe it, she looked "put out" by the unexpected answer to her terse question. Me, I was quietly assessing her finding that our initial tryst seemed to jumpstart some sort of behavioral chain reaction. She was more mature and easygoing right up to our interview and eventual hookup, but now she was becoming something else. Her attitude was, dare I say thuggish to an uncomfortable degree. Sydney cocked her head to the side scratching her temple.
"Hey, I'm uh, not good with emotional stuff."
"Figured that out." I replied statically looking straight ahead focusing on the wall mounted control for the air conditioner instead of her nudity.
"Okay I admit it; I'm a major bitch, an asshole, fuck man I'm your textbook narcissist with shit to spare. I was caught off guard when you mentioned the girlfriend shit; sorry I had no idea. Guess, I just rub people the wrong way and that's how I ended up here tonight."
"I thought you wanted to fuck Sydney?"
"Yeah, I wanted some more of what you're peddling; hey I wasn't lying about that shit I said about my sex life earlier. I mean, like you care right? HEY!! For what it's worth, I apologize; even though I had no prior knowledge of your situation beforehand so that's really not on me, okay?"
"What?"
"I SAID I WAS SORRY!"
"Why, I didn't ask for an apology Sydney; the only thing I wanted from you was some fat ass and those fucking heels I mentioned. Am I mistaken, or did something just knock me out of my motherfucking booty call? We really, don't have to have a conversation about my shit. I just want your body; was that too much to ask bitch?" I looked the disgraced celebrity dead in the eye as I finished reacting to her crappy behavior.
Her eyes got really small as she bit into her lower lip looking away before answering.
"Back in the day I would've got you rolled for talking to me like that; but as it is I've got to admit that I wanted the same thing all the way up until a few seconds ago. A lot of people don't understand my world view and the fact that I'm always gonna be on top of things; it, just doesn't make it easy to deal with all the daily bullshit."
"Yeah I know Sydney." I replied noncommittally getting a doubletake.
"Oh yeah, did you know that I'm here on my company's dime? Did you know that three floors beneath us, a film crew is checked in for a taped interview I'm doing tomorrow with my husband? Yeah, going all Clinton except I'm scheduled to admit my affair in front of the cameras. Reconciliation talk notwithstanding, I'm booting that nigga Sly not that any of those pasty fucks have any idea. It's my time, that coming out party in front of the world."
"I don't care; just tell me why I'm here if it's not just to fuck you?"
"Always shoot from the hip?"
"Only when I talk to someone on my level Sydney." This reply made her put her hands on her hips still in her birthday suit like me lazily reclining studying her face. I could tell she didn't have a lot of genuine people around.
"You think you're on my level? You have no idea what I've done to reach this point in my life and get everything I have by the fingertips; some of the dirty, nasty shit that makes it hard to look at my reflection at times. Even back when I was trading skin for studio time on the low while that nigga acted clueless. Used to be a deejay, our guy playing the background while me and Finessa held down the front. He rode my coattails into that station."
"Everybody does that at some point."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"I'd like to fuck you; lord knows I can't shoot you for my site because of all the Hollywood bullshit I don't give a fuck about. Honestly speaking, I'd love to see that big marshmallow donk with those big ass tattoos in a thumbnail on my website." Sydney's arms dropped to her sides as she took a step forward.
"What kind of website?"
"What do you think Sydney? I wasn't trying to get involved with all this shit or go viral; and fucking Takisha was mad because she got her back blown out after she disrespected my family. Sydney, don't you do your homework; didn't Thunda give the link to my site on your husband's show? Tell me you didn't even bother to watch her interview and show me that you're too big to do your own fucking due diligence?"