Chapter Two - A Place All My Own

D.J. Easy Rock was spinning his best mixes, and when Chanel heard the sounds of the Shock Boys number one hit “Party Like A Rock Star” blaring from the huge speakers, she headed straight for the dance floor.

“Oh, girl that is my jam,” screamed Chanel over the music.  She and her friend, Shalonda, began moving their bodies to the tunes as all eyes became fixed on them. 

“Party like a rock star, party like a rock star,” Chanel and Shalonda sang in unison.

The crowd at Club Ice in downtown Columbus was just as Chanel liked for it to be; not too crowded and void of ghetto fabulous queens envious of her style.  Chanel Micah Fernando-Collins wore a cute little Baby Phat jean skirt with just enough material to show off her shapely twenty-one year old legs.  The matching crop shirt offered a peek at her flat stomach and showed off her plump thirty-six C-cups just the way she liked it.  The six inch heel stilettos with the straps accentuated her toned calf muscles.  After dancing to a few more songs, Chanel wished she would have worn shoes easier to take off.  She knew that bending over to remove them from her aching feet would allow everyone in the club to see what God had given her, so she decided to dance through the pain.  As soon as the song ended, Chanel and Shalonda made their way back to their favorite V.I.P. section of the club. 

“Girl, the club is hot tonight,” hollered Shalonda.

“Yea, you got that right.  This is the place to be,” screamed Chanel.  “We are going to close this bitch down.”

Chanel and Shalonda toasted and sipped down their green apple martinis like true ladies should.  For as long as she could remember, Chanel had been instructed on the proper way to conduct herself when in public and even more so when in the presence of a man. 

The girls began their ‘hoe’s in training life styles’ regiment one week after being placed in their father’s care.  To begin with, Dallas hired a personal trainer to teach the girls how to tone their bodies and strength train without bulking up to look like female body builders.  He then brought in a petite, proper speaking teacher to train the girls on etiquette.  Twice a week, they studied which fork to use during dinners, the kings English, how to walk in heels even when their feet hurt, and how to be submissive. 

Dallas drilled different things into the girl’s everyday and all day.  He told them that because of their mixed heritage, Hispanic and African-American, they were blessed to be some of the most beautiful beings walking the earth.  In Dallas’ opinion, Diamond, Essence and Chanel inherited their mother’s greatest attributes; honey complexions, long, dark, wavy hair and beautiful almond shaped light brown eyes.  All three girls’ hips spread perfectly during puberty as well as their c-cup breasts. Dallas often told them that their full, heart shaped lips and petite frames came from his side of the family.  The girls could only take Dallas word for it because the only other Collins’ relative they knew was Houston.  And if the rest of the Collins family was anything like their father and uncle, they were better off not knowing them. 

Dallas never allowed the girls to roller skate or play outside for fear they might fall and scrap their knees.  He told them that beauty was hard work that came at a price but that one day, it would pay them well. 

The weekends were usually Chanel’s busiest days, due to all of her repeat clients requesting an hour or so of her time.  Chanel had begged and pleaded with Dallas to allow her one weekend off a month.  She explained that if he were to approve her request, she’d be more apt to pleasing her clients.  As a result, Chanel was given the third weekend of every month off.  Chanel put her free time to use by clubbing it with her best friend, Shalonda Harris, and spending quality time with her boyfriend, Maurice.

“Do the ladies run dis muthafucka?” sang D.J. Easy Rock.

“Heeellll yaaaaaaa!” answered all the ladies in the club. 

The sounds of Lloyd’s, Get It Shawdy, kept the club jumpin’ and Chanel decided it was time to kick off her stilettos and dance the night away.  As she swayed her hips back over to the dance floor, she could hear the faint whispers of two women hating on her.

“Would you look at that bitch?  Thinking she’s God’s gift to men,” said a woman with cinnamon skin and hair to match.  That’s one of them Collins girls, I think she’s the baby.”

Though the music was too loud for Chanel to hear exactly what the two women were saying about her, it was obvious that she was the topic of their conversation.  Chanel put more of a switch in her hips and slowly swept her slim fingers through her flat ironed mid-back length hair.  After looking over her shoulders at the two women dressed in knock-off Apple Bottom outfits, Chanel winked her right eye at them and smiled.  I love this shit.  If they hate me, they want to be me, she thought as she danced her way to the bar.

“What’s up with those two bitches?  Do you know them?” inquired Shalonda.

“The usual; bitches hate-but fuck ‘em.  I ain’t letting two fat ass, broke chicks from the projects block my fun.  Not tonight,” Chanel shouted over the music. 

“I hear you girl,” smiled Shalonda, as she and Chanel raised their drinks to toast to their having fun.  After taking a swig of her Hennessy on the rocks, Shalonda felt that all familiar urge creeping up on her.  “Girl, are you straight?  I need to go powder my nose.”

“Yea, girl, I’m cool.  Trust me when I say them two poor ass bitches don’t want a piece of my ass.  Not tonight, girl, not tonight,” smiled Chanel.

“Cool, I will be back in less than five minutes,” said Shalonda.  “Don’t move from this spot or we’ll never catch up with each other because the crowd is getting thick.”

“You’re right about that.  If it keeps up, I’m raising up out of here,” Chanel yelled into her best friend’s ear.

Chanel watched Shalonda make her way to the restrooms before returning her attention to her drink.  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrors lined along the wall and smiled to herself.  Mommy show nuff broke the mold when she made my perfect ass, thought Chanel.

“Hey, excuse you,” said Chanel to the woman who had just bumped into her.  She stood with her hand on her hip as she looked the woman up and down like she was an alien from out of space.  She noticed that it was one of the two women that had been eyeing her.

“Nah, bitch, excuse you!” countered the woman.

“Oh fat ass, I got cha bitch right here,” threatened Chanel while waving her middle finger in the woman’s face.

“You ain’t special,” screamed the woman, “Ya little yellow ass walking around here like you own the fuckin’ place.  Bitch, you ain’t shit!”

Chanel could not understand why the woman was fucking with her, nor did she give a damn.  She did not know the woman from a hole in the wall, yet, here she was acting as if she had just caught Chanel giving head to her husband.

Deciding not to bow down and join the woman in her self hatred pity party, Chanel turned her back on her and took another sip of her drink.  Just as the hot liquid slid down the back of her throat, Chanel felt a shove and the drink flew out of her hand.  No this bitch did not just put her ashy hands on me, thought Chanel as she spun around to put an end to the impending altercation.

Chanel refused to argue anymore and caught the woman on the chin with a strong right hook.  The blow sent the woman backwards, knocking over two couples seated behind her.  On- lookers scattered, attempting to get out of the way before any more fist were thrown.

“Ah bitch, I’m gon’ fuck you up now,” threatened the woman.  “I don’t know who in the hell you think you are but I-”

Chanel hit the woman again as she to stagger to stay on her feet.  Coming out of the ladies room, Shalonda saw the commotion over by the bar and rushed to see if Chanel was somehow involved.  It was not uncommon for a woman to get jealous because she caught her man flirting with Chanel or Shalonda.  Shalonda figured that might be the case.  She got to the bar just in time to see Chanel throw a mean right hook followed quickly by a left jab.  Her opponent grossly underestimated Chanel’s physical strength as she went flying into a small table occupied by unsuspecting patrons.  As any true friend would do, Shalonda joined in on the melee and got in a few punches and kicks of her own.  The woman’s attempts to block the blows were futile and she regretted instigating the altercation.  She breathed a sigh of relief when the bouncers put an end to the fight. 

The club’s hired security guards grabbed Chanel and Shalonda and led them out the back door.  Once outside, the two women burst out laughing so hard that their sides hurt and tears ran down their faces.  Almost ten minutes later, Chanel and Shalonda regained control of their senses and decided to call it a night instead of driving up north to another club like they had initially planned on doing.  The friends walked around to the front of the establishment to wait for the valet to bring both of their cars around.

“Girl, what in the fuck was that about?” inquired Shalonda.

“I have no idea what that bitch’s problem was.  Girl, she had the nerve to push my ass and left me no choice but to get at her,” explained Chanel.  “Shit, these women out here always hate on me.  I know I’m fine, but damn; sometimes that petty jealousy gets on my damn nerves.  Most of the time, I let that shit slide but tonight I was forced to beat a bitch to the ground.  When someone puts their hands on me, I do not hasten to give them a knock down, knock out fight.  You feel me?”

“I feel you on that, girl.  That’s why we get along so well, cause we both real with it,” said Shalonda.

The valets finally arrived with Chanel’s pearl colored, 2008 Mercedes Benz convertible and Shalonda’s 2007 silver-gray Lexus Coupe.  The friends gave each other a hug and promised to meet up in a few days for lunch.  Chanel got behind the wheel of her car and thought, she my girl and all but Shalonda probably want to be me too.

Chapter Two - A Place All My Own

D.J. Easy Rock was spinning his best mixes, and when Chanel heard the sounds of the Shock Boys number one hit “Party Like A Rock Star” blaring from the huge speakers, she headed straight for the dance floor.

“Oh, girl that is my jam,” screamed Chanel over the music.  She and her friend, Shalonda, began moving their bodies to the tunes as all eyes became fixed on them. 

“Party like a rock star, party like a rock star,” Chanel and Shalonda sang in unison.

The crowd at Club Ice in downtown Columbus was just as Chanel liked for it to be; not too crowded and void of ghetto fabulous queens envious of her style.  Chanel Micah Fernando-Collins wore a cute little Baby Phat jean skirt with just enough material to show off her shapely twenty-one year old legs.  The matching crop shirt offered a peek at her flat stomach and showed off her plump thirty-six C-cups just the way she liked it.  The six inch heel stilettos with the straps accentuated her toned calf muscles.  After dancing to a few more songs, Chanel wished she would have worn shoes easier to take off.  She knew that bending over to remove them from her aching feet would allow everyone in the club to see what God had given her, so she decided to dance through the pain.  As soon as the song ended, Chanel and Shalonda made their way back to their favorite V.I.P. section of the club. 

“Girl, the club is hot tonight,” hollered Shalonda.

“Yea, you got that right.  This is the place to be,” screamed Chanel.  “We are going to close this bitch down.”

Chanel and Shalonda toasted and sipped down their green apple martinis like true ladies should.  For as long as she could remember, Chanel had been instructed on the proper way to conduct herself when in public and even more so when in the presence of a man. 

The girls began their ‘hoe’s in training life styles’ regiment one week after being placed in their father’s care.  To begin with, Dallas hired a personal trainer to teach the girls how to tone their bodies and strength train without bulking up to look like female body builders.  He then brought in a petite, proper speaking teacher to train the girls on etiquette.  Twice a week, they studied which fork to use during dinners, the kings English, how to walk in heels even when their feet hurt, and how to be submissive. 

Dallas drilled different things into the girl’s everyday and all day.  He told them that because of their mixed heritage, Hispanic and African-American, they were blessed to be some of the most beautiful beings walking the earth.  In Dallas’ opinion, Diamond, Essence and Chanel inherited their mother’s greatest attributes; honey complexions, long, dark, wavy hair and beautiful almond shaped light brown eyes.  All three girls’ hips spread perfectly during puberty as well as their c-cup breasts. Dallas often told them that their full, heart shaped lips and petite frames came from his side of the family.  The girls could only take Dallas word for it because the only other Collins’ relative they knew was Houston.  And if the rest of the Collins family was anything like their father and uncle, they were better off not knowing them. 

Dallas never allowed the girls to roller skate or play outside for fear they might fall and scrap their knees.  He told them that beauty was hard work that came at a price but that one day, it would pay them well. 

The weekends were usually Chanel’s busiest days, due to all of her repeat clients requesting an hour or so of her time.  Chanel had begged and pleaded with Dallas to allow her one weekend off a month.  She explained that if he were to approve her request, she’d be more apt to pleasing her clients.  As a result, Chanel was given the third weekend of every month off.  Chanel put her free time to use by clubbing it with her best friend, Shalonda Harris, and spending quality time with her boyfriend, Maurice.

“Do the ladies run dis muthafucka?” sang D.J. Easy Rock.

“Heeellll yaaaaaaa!” answered all the ladies in the club. 

The sounds of Lloyd’s, Get It Shawdy, kept the club jumpin’ and Chanel decided it was time to kick off her stilettos and dance the night away.  As she swayed her hips back over to the dance floor, she could hear the faint whispers of two women hating on her.

“Would you look at that bitch?  Thinking she’s God’s gift to men,” said a woman with cinnamon skin and hair to match.  That’s one of them Collins girls, I think she’s the baby.”

Though the music was too loud for Chanel to hear exactly what the two women were saying about her, it was obvious that she was the topic of their conversation.  Chanel put more of a switch in her hips and slowly swept her slim fingers through her flat ironed mid-back length hair.  After looking over her shoulders at the two women dressed in knock-off Apple Bottom outfits, Chanel winked her right eye at them and smiled.  I love this shit.  If they hate me, they want to be me, she thought as she danced her way to the bar.

“What’s up with those two bitches?  Do you know them?” inquired Shalonda.

“The usual; bitches hate-but fuck ‘em.  I ain’t letting two fat ass, broke chicks from the projects block my fun.  Not tonight,” Chanel shouted over the music. 

“I hear you girl,” smiled Shalonda, as she and Chanel raised their drinks to toast to their having fun.  After taking a swig of her Hennessy on the rocks, Shalonda felt that all familiar urge creeping up on her.  “Girl, are you straight?  I need to go powder my nose.”

“Yea, girl, I’m cool.  Trust me when I say them two poor ass bitches don’t want a piece of my ass.  Not tonight, girl, not tonight,” smiled Chanel.

“Cool, I will be back in less than five minutes,” said Shalonda.  “Don’t move from this spot or we’ll never catch up with each other because the crowd is getting thick.”

“You’re right about that.  If it keeps up, I’m raising up out of here,” Chanel yelled into her best friend’s ear.

Chanel watched Shalonda make her way to the restrooms before returning her attention to her drink.  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrors lined along the wall and smiled to herself.  Mommy show nuff broke the mold when she made my perfect ass, thought Chanel.

“Hey, excuse you,” said Chanel to the woman who had just bumped into her.  She stood with her hand on her hip as she looked the woman up and down like she was an alien from out of space.  She noticed that it was one of the two women that had been eyeing her.

“Nah, bitch, excuse you!” countered the woman.

“Oh fat ass, I got cha bitch right here,” threatened Chanel while waving her middle finger in the woman’s face.

“You ain’t special,” screamed the woman, “Ya little yellow ass walking around here like you own the fuckin’ place.  Bitch, you ain’t shit!”

Chanel could not understand why the woman was fucking with her, nor did she give a damn.  She did not know the woman from a hole in the wall, yet, here she was acting as if she had just caught Chanel giving head to her husband.

Deciding not to bow down and join the woman in her self hatred pity party, Chanel turned her back on her and took another sip of her drink.  Just as the hot liquid slid down the back of her throat, Chanel felt a shove and the drink flew out of her hand.  No this bitch did not just put her ashy hands on me, thought Chanel as she spun around to put an end to the impending altercation.

Chanel refused to argue anymore and caught the woman on the chin with a strong right hook.  The blow sent the woman backwards, knocking over two couples seated behind her.  On- lookers scattered, attempting to get out of the way before any more fist were thrown.

“Ah bitch, I’m gon’ fuck you up now,” threatened the woman.  “I don’t know who in the hell you think you are but I-”

Chanel hit the woman again as she to stagger to stay on her feet.  Coming out of the ladies room, Shalonda saw the commotion over by the bar and rushed to see if Chanel was somehow involved.  It was not uncommon for a woman to get jealous because she caught her man flirting with Chanel or Shalonda.  Shalonda figured that might be the case.  She got to the bar just in time to see Chanel throw a mean right hook followed quickly by a left jab.  Her opponent grossly underestimated Chanel’s physical strength as she went flying into a small table occupied by unsuspecting patrons.  As any true friend would do, Shalonda joined in on the melee and got in a few punches and kicks of her own.  The woman’s attempts to block the blows were futile and she regretted instigating the altercation.  She breathed a sigh of relief when the bouncers put an end to the fight. 

The club’s hired security guards grabbed Chanel and Shalonda and led them out the back door.  Once outside, the two women burst out laughing so hard that their sides hurt and tears ran down their faces.  Almost ten minutes later, Chanel and Shalonda regained control of their senses and decided to call it a night instead of driving up north to another club like they had initially planned on doing.  The friends walked around to the front of the establishment to wait for the valet to bring both of their cars around.

“Girl, what in the fuck was that about?” inquired Shalonda.

“I have no idea what that bitch’s problem was.  Girl, she had the nerve to push my ass and left me no choice but to get at her,” explained Chanel.  “Shit, these women out here always hate on me.  I know I’m fine, but damn; sometimes that petty jealousy gets on my damn nerves.  Most of the time, I let that shit slide but tonight I was forced to beat a bitch to the ground.  When someone puts their hands on me, I do not hasten to give them a knock down, knock out fight.  You feel me?”

“I feel you on that, girl.  That’s why we get along so well, cause we both real with it,” said Shalonda.

The valets finally arrived with Chanel’s pearl colored, 2008 Mercedes Benz convertible and Shalonda’s 2007 silver-gray Lexus Coupe.  The friends gave each other a hug and promised to meet up in a few days for lunch.  Chanel got behind the wheel of her car and thought, she my girl and all but Shalonda probably want to be me too.