THUNDA - Under New Management Ch. 08

"Shit let's get out of here." Rashida was ready to bolt.

"You said you wanted to do this; now you've got cold feet?"

"Negro you should've talked me out of it."

"So, you're false flagging on your own brand that we been building up since I took over your ledger; is that right girl? Didn't we just launch two teaser trailers over the last twenty-four hours and lets not forget how much money's run through your cash app since then. Those simps watching your stuff are foaming at the mouth dying to pay you; and you're scared. So, you don't like money now?"

Rashida looked as if I'd shot her pointblank in the chest, then tucked her chin glancing downward at the raincoat covering her traffic stopping figure. When she looked back up at my face, she was smiling.

"That's why you are The Educated Simp daddy; I knew you'd know what to say if I get skittish."

I tapped my cheek with my pointer finger getting a light peck from her luscious lips.

"I'm still not going up there and if it goes over, I'm out. My boss is notorious for waiting at the time clock to write people up."

"I got it."

"Do you, huh?"

"Yeah." She still sounded a little shaky while I lightly rubbed her back mentally forcing myself not to let my hand run over the still visible upper swell of her sixty plus inches of online fame.

"What's your name?"

"Thunda."

"Say it right bitch."

"THUNDA!!" Rashida shouted getting a loud hollow echo quickly cupping a hand over her mouth.

We were standing in the lobby of a skyscraper downtown about five miles away from my job on campus. We worked out that I would remain in the lobby while she went up to the station and conducted the interview. I'd edited at least three scenes for release on the premium portion of her page and we were in discussion about doing some sort of Meet and Greet zoom event.

The lobby of this building was cavernous.

We were facing the concierge desk manned by a single female security guard who was staring back at us with what can only be termed "resting bitch face" under a mountain of erratic braids.

Rashida nudged my arm directing my attention to what appeared to be an intern walking across the lobby to greet us. The bespectacled blonde female was dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans and chucks with a station pass hanging about her neck. Her shirt was emblazoned with the 96K-Jay logo with Sly and Sydney proudly displayed as part of its design.

"Hi, I'm Irma. I work as a P.A. for Sly and Sydney and you are uh, the Thunder Girl, right?" She offered her hand to Rashida while giving me the side eye like I was Ms. Sike's pimp.

"Thunda, that's all." I was surprised to find Rashida subdued shaking the girl's hand. I suspected this production assistant would make expeditious use of hand sanitizer once she completed her assignment. Her smile was mannequin fake.

"That's special, I've been sent to collect you, and uh, your friend too." Rashida shot me a look mutely worried I'd verbally give Irma the business.

"I think I'm gonna wait here instead Irma, thank you very much."

"Suite yourself."

"Daddy, uhm..." Rashida stopped herself realizing that she played into a stereotype, but I smiled taking her hand finding her palm clammy. She really was nervous at the precipice of going public in her Thunda identity.

"It's cool Rashida, I'll be right here and don't forget who you are baby. This is your time now, okay?"

"Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Thunda."

"No, that's not how you do it girlfriend; show Irma how we do it."

Rashida stripped off the raincoat revealing her ensemble of the denim crop top while the daisy dukes were replaced with a denim mini-skirt that put her oiled stallion legs on full display. Her feet were covered in denim stiletto heels completing her look.

She looked sculpted, show stopping and innately delicious. Her braids were incredible with some shoulder length curly extensions that added to her exotic allure.

"OH SHIT!!" All three of us were distracted by the loud verbal reaction to Rashida's appearance.

Across the lobby off to one side was the entrance to the building elevators cordoned off by an airport style metal detector. Two uniformed security guards were the culprits with one guy already filming her with his own meager android phone.

I glanced over finding Irma looking Rashida up and down, mouth hanging open visibly salivating. Rashida eventually noticed too raising a brow as the intern collected herself quickly.

"CUT-IT-OUT BARRY!! I'M GONNA REPORT YOU!!" Irma yelled without looking.

"It's okay I'm used to it Irma."

"OMFG, that's horrible Thunda; I'd like to hear all about it in the green room." She was fawning all over my running buddy and FWB who looked a bit leery of the attention.

"Take care of this for me Irma." I purposely tossed Rashida's raincoat over her head already stalking off as she snatched it off.

"Sorry about that he's just playing." Rashida helped get the coat off Irma's head shooting me a half smirk.

"It's okay, uh who does your hair? I think it's really pretty."

"Uhm, licensed cosmetologist here; this way right?" I was already walking to a bench hands shoved in my pockets while the women made small talk.

"Yeah, don't worry the green room is safe for your coat. We've got a lot of security in here." Both of them were a few feet away approaching the metal detector where one guard was happily waiting with a wand in hand. Irma waved him off with a scowl bypassing the door while his partner continued filming with his phone.

"What ya'll looking at?" Rashida glibly addressed the horndogs making me smile to myself as I had a seat.

Then I was alone.

The sheer size of the lobby made it feel as if I were sitting on the surface of the moon.

Peering around the cavernous lobby of the building yielded only the custodian going about the unenviable task of cleaning the tiled floors while the security guard busied herself with her phone. I was starting to wonder if I was making a big deal out of things and should've gone upstairs to the green room anyway.

Something was just innately telling me that I didn't want to be seen up there after the Takisha situation. Revealing Rashida to the world was a calculated move but brought with it some issues I didn't want right at the moment.

I glanced over at the guard again who was paying no attention to me conversing on her phone. I wondered how much the portly sister made sitting on her butt at a concierge desk all day pulling out my own phone. My eyes drifted upwards to the mounted security cam over the revolving door.

I had this sort of creeping feeling that I was being watched.

I went to my phone pulling up the station's live stream finding Rashida already sitting there on one side of the room with Sly and friends occupying the other side. That portly comedian was sitting a few feet over earning the wary side eyes attention of Rashida.

She knew a shark when she saw one and I wasn't worried she could hold her own if push came to shove up there. For some reason I was having trouble getting the show to play on my phone.

"Hey there King."

"Huh?" I looked up from my phone to my immediate left along the one story marble wall finding 96K-Jay cohost Sydney peering out from the corner looking at me.

"Excuse me but aren't you uh, Thunda's little friend?" I tilted and rolled my neck inadvertently responding to the question before I'd even realized it.

"Uh, yeah?" I responded making it sound like a question.

"You wanna come up to the green room?"

"Nah, I'm good right here." I averted my gaze from her hunching over peering at the face of my phone which was still having issues getting video service inside the building.

Inside I was starting to bristle hoping Rashida hadn't made me. I recalled being invited to participate in this woman's afternoon radio show geared towards a female audience almost exclusively. I'd sidestepped that shit out of necessity accomplishing the coming out party for one Ms. Sikes in grand fashion.

I hunched over making a visible show of drawing my knees together kind of facing away from her with my face buried in my android. Unfortunately her footfalls were heard approaching which instantly put me into defensive mode.

"Are you sure you don't want to come up to the green room; we have catering and a really nice coffee bar?" Her feet appeared in frame in these newspaper printed open toed platform pumps.

Her toenails were painted canary yellow slightly contrasting with her lighter skin tone.

"Nah, I'm fine down here Sydney."

"Your girlfriend's probably gonna be up there for a hot minute; we can get you the password for out Wi-Fi if you come upstairs." It felt like somebody was dangling a fucking carrot in front of my face.

"We're just friends thank you. Are we done here?" My attitude flared up out of nowhere as my heart started thumping harder in my chest.

"So, it's really you?"

"Excuse me?" I glanced up at her for the first time.

Sydney's face was a picture of soft beauty resembling Jill Scott in her younger days with a defined jawline and her signature red lipstick standing out like a beacon contrasting sharply with a yellow bone skin tone a shade or two darker.

The newspaper print was a theme for her gear this morning extended to the bucket styled hat on her head, the loose fitting maxi dress on her body which was pretty much a giant men's shirt and the aforementioned pumps. A pair of glasses with oversized frames covered her face but were big enough that I noticed her light green eyes. A plastic encased pass for the radio station hung about her neck.

"Come on you're him; the Educated Simp?" She framed it like a question, but we both knew I was made.

"Thank you for the offer miss; have a nice day."

"We can't talk for a minute or two?"

"We already did and time is money or don't you have a job to do upstairs?" I wasn't looking at her face anymore but noticed her shifting her weight from one foot to the other with some light foot play. The dress on her body had these buttons down the front parted just below her knees. I could see that she had some shapely calves.

"How much is your time?"

I looked up finding her there with her arms folded playing with her station pass. She looked amused standing over me with a game smile on her face. I got the impression Sydney felt as if she were intimidating me.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll pay you for an interview; how about uh, two for ten?"

"Two bucks, no thank you." I chuckled about to look at my phone again.

"Two hundred."

"What?"

"Two hundred, twenty minutes and I'll cash app you right now if you agree." I huffed feeling exasperated knowing what she was trying to do.

Sydney's afternoon show usually shredded the guys that visited uninformed in a segment called "The Queen's Corner."

I'd watched some segments in the past with Rashida, but we both agreed I'd made the right decision not taking Sydney up on her initial offer. I'd taken a drubbing on social media on multiple platforms for my supposed toxic behavior towards Takisha after Rashida's come up. It worked out for my muse, but I'd reaped the side effects of that decision thankful for my anonymity.

"You just give any stranger two hundred dollars?"

"No, but I'd pay "The Educated Simp" for a bit of his valuable time in-between breaking girl's hearts." She made these annoying hand quote gestures when she used my stage name.

"I never said I was him."

"Then it must be your lucky day because you can make two hundred for basically nothing but talking." That carrot that was being dangled in front of my nose was snatched away only to be replaced by a bigger one. My ego was screaming at me to take the money and give her the business.

"I think you'd be disappointed with me."

"Two hundred for the twenty and I add an additional hundred for every ten minutes over. For your information I easily clear six figures annually outside of my endorsements with Lane Bryant and Shien, not to mention my earnings as an influencer on the gram. Basically stop pissing on my dick. Shit or get off the pot; if negative I'll let everybody know you're not genuine this afternoon."

I had to admit she was good at the hard sell, but I'd had a bit of training in her entitled arena from a dark horse alpha hiding in plain sight along with her future alpha in training daughter who was barely out of diapers.

"For the record, I DO NOT consent to my image being used on any platform and have the legal backup to make your head spin at lightspeed both directions. I've actually recorded this conversation as we spoke and the threat of doxing which can undoubtedly be twisted into a cyber bullying deal by my lawyer Sydney. Other than that, it would be an honor to participate. However I ain't going on your fucking show in front of the cameras. You'd be paying for my voice ma'am."

I leaned back resting against the wall folding one leg over the other as I turned my trusty android's face in her direction so that she could confirm her recorded threat.

I expected to be "Read" or cussed out, but Sydney simply cocked her head to the side pivoting from one leg to the other.

"You're him alright and you haven't rattled me in the least; do you have any idea how bloody contract negotiations can get when the show's up for renewal? We'll conduct the interview upstairs in one of the recording studios on the fourth floor; don't worry no one will see you, so you ain't gotta sign no autographs or nothing. But I get to do what I want with the audio, capeesh?"

Sydney offered a hand symbolizing a Faustian deal.

"Thunda stays out of your mouth; just shred me for dogging out Takisha, okay or no deal baby?" Her nails were painted canary yellow.

"Taking care of your investment?"

"What do you care?" I shook her hand before standing up finding that we were pretty much the same height.

"Time is money." Sydney closed her fingers around mine leading me to the elevator which was bordered by a metal detector and two more lazing rent-a-cops.

"Your money." I replied as Sydney waved the guards away who looked disappointed at the lack of action.

I noticed one guy quickly hide a comic book from view as we passed. She turned facing me capturing both of my hands looking pleased with herself. It felt like I was walking into the belly of the beast, but I resolved to get paid first stopping short of the elevator flashing my phone.

Sydney reached in her pocket removing an expensive looking phone of her own. Two hundred dollars popped up on my faithful cash app while she smiled walking ahead pressing the elevator button.

"Your time, and don't tell me some shit about it starting the moment I cashed you in my king."

"Wouldn't think of it ma'am."

I stepped into the elevator followed closely by Sydney as she turned her back to me sort of leaning into the wall facing the closing dual doors mashing the fourth floor button. I found myself looking at her in a three fourths profile noticing the subtle bulge of curves hidden underneath her trendy frock and hating myself for it.

Part of me wondered if I was looking at her in that manner because of my proliferation of female associates, friends and FWB's over the past year or so.

"You have nothing to worry about, I'll use the kid's gloves on you." Sydney noticed me looking thankfully misreading my semi-worried gaze.

"It's your dime." This response got her pulling out her phone starting up the recorder despite what she'd said earlier.

"So, I'm here with "The Educated Simp" and he's already wasted no time starting up with the "negging" used by a number of the shady pickup artists currently lurking about on social media. He's agreed to give me a moment of his precious time to sort out the Takisha situation."

I found myself becoming comfortable as my heartrate slowed folding my arms looking her in the eye as she continued.

"He's refused to appear in the Queen's Corner this afternoon so we pretty much know it's a wash with another mentally fragile brother exploiting a tired gimmick that unfortunately got a real queen caught up. My girls out there know how we do it in the corner, so I'm gonna be taking him out back to the shed for some of mamma's righteous discipline. In the end it's all about love and respecting our black queens for a proper balance."

I covered my mouth with my fist arms still folded across my chest making no bones that I was openly amused at her cringe inducing monologue. Sydney paused her recorder looking me up and down.

"Something funny?"

"I take the fifth; maybe you can get it out of me in the shed Sydney." I stuffed my hands into my pockets as the elevator doors opened revealing some morbidly obese guy sitting on a plastic chair with a light blue collared shirt reading security across the chest. His gut hid his entire lap as I realized he was wearing the shirt backwards.

"So you're dismissive too, huh? You think that will throw me off and allow you to protect your fragile ego, right?" Sydney waved her station pass at the guard who obviously had no intention of getting out of his chair. There was a metal detector wand sitting on the floor beside his primitive chair as we passed.

"Spoken like a true psychology major; am I right?" Sydney did a doubletake at my response with fluttering eyes accentuated with butterfly lashes behind the glasses.

"Oh, so you've looked me up huh; guess you think you're slick because you can read Wikipedia."

"Nah, your talk game reeks of a classic run of the mill community college major who likely works a crap intern job when she isn't flipping burgers."

"Totally pompous and high off of your own farts; am I right?" Sydney countered.

We shared an uneasy chuckle as she used her station pass to open a thick automated security door which led back into this really narrow corridor bordered on each side by large blackened paneled windows.

I assumed this was the recording studios she spoke of downstairs when making her deal with me for an interview. Sydney removed the badge from her neck walking ahead to the end of the corridor pressing the badge against the automated mounted wall lock allowing me inside.

"We had to put these security measures in because some drill rappers got into a shootout last summer. Some people got lit up and one girl didn't make it."

"Shit, I wish you'd told me that before I agreed to come up here."

"Oh don't worry, we've got state of the art measures installed and three security companies on the premises. I assure you we're quite safe back here, and alone. Your precious secret identity will be preserved my King."

"You call everybody King?"

"Lost a bet with a conscious artist on my show a while back, so I use King instead of nigga." I paused in the doorway to the small cramped space looking her in the face seeing the slur in her eyes.

"Wanna back out?" Sydney offered.

"Why?" I mused walking inside having a look around noticing one of the walls was pretty much a blackened window one sided which allowed me to peer into the adjacent corridor.

It felt like I was in a rat's maze as she closed and locked the studio door. There was an intercom on the wall next to the thick door which had a small window in it with the same darkened one way glass. Sydney peered through the small window into the corridor before turning in my direction motioning for me to have a seat as she started recording again.

"So I'm told that pics are off the table but I can honestly say he's about medium cute, okay build from what I can see with a modicum of actual intelligence; uh, maybe he's holding if I can be quite honest with you ladies out there. Are you; I mean are you holding, down there?"

Sydney found another seat sliding the wheeled chair over facing me in a cramped situation.

"Would you ask a woman the same question?"