chapter ten - part two

35 2 0
                                    

The place was packed with people thirsty for bars, drinks and apparently Gabi as well. On stage, there was a separation as if the two groups were about to compete in a dance battle.

"Last two opening acts before the main event," said a man before he spotted Margarette in the crowd, "and we have a new comer tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Also, I promise she go leave someone dead tonight."

The crowd reacted like this was the Roman Colosseum and death was welcomed. No, more like it was encouraged. The man gave the mic to another MC to start the next battle. Two female artists stepped up to face each other from the groups. Each staring the other down in disgust to share the stage with them. Then a beat dropped and the rap battle began.

"Yo, Kane!" the previous MC approached Margarette. "You on after this battle, you ready?"

"I'll be ready after you explain the rules, Joe," replied Margarette, straightforward.

"And why we got searched when we entered?" added Gabi.

"So the answer's pretty easy: we don't allow weapons in here," he spoke simple English to guarantee he won't need to repeat himself, "especially guns."

"Why guns particularly -" a shot went off and Gabi's heart rate found the sky.

"Relax . . ." Joe spoke soft to the girl who searched for exit signs, "I need you to relax."

"How can you tell me to relax?" Gabi shouted.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Gabi - my name's Gabi -"

"Okay Gabi -"

"We need to get out of here before we get shot -" panic overflowed in her body.

"No one's getting shot, Gabi," said Joe. "That's not a real gun shot. Look around," he gestured to the crowd enjoying the performance, "no one's running because they know it's not real."

Another shot went off.

"There again!" Gabi shouted.

"And again, no one's running . . ." Joe calmed her down.

"Just remain calm, Gabi," said Margarette with a reassuring hand on her best friend's shoulder, "there's nothing to worry about."

"It's just a sound used by the DJ over here," added Joe. "There's really nothing to worry about, okay?"

Gabi nodded. She understood, but her body would try jumping out of her skin more times than she could count by the end of the night.

"Rules?" asked Margarette.

"Okay, it's called, Eight Claps, but no one has ever gotten hit by eight before," explained Joe, "the crowd but mostly the DJ decides whether the line is hard enough to be a shot, and the one who gets hit the most, loses."

The current battle on stage ended 4-2 to the woman on the left that made baggy clothes look sexy. The loser, in a pale grey outfit, coughed up a good chunk of cash and walked off with her mouth on the floor.

"The next battle shall begin shortly," said the current MC.

+++

The Hidden Genre (C. H. H. Ain't Dead 01)Where stories live. Discover now