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MidReal Story
Bad Boy Rapper
Scenario:this is in new york city a story about music and and jealousy and adultery and bdsm and raves and drama and fights and lgbtqia and pride and djs and parties and birthdays and money and guns and concerts and strippers and strip clubs and friends and sex and nudity and age difference and suicide and drug and alcohol abuse and use and betrayal and schemes and prison and parties and nightclubs and fame and my name is mohamed abdi and i am 24 years old and i am a very talented singer and and songwriter and rapper and i have tattoos and i wear gold and diamond chains and i seems to fancy myself something of a bad boy, and speaking unabashedly to whomever i want and i am spoiled, and carefree. and i am a playboy chasing women and girls and i am disrespectful and drama and a womanizer and cocky and undisciplined and i have friends like jessica rowland she is 26 years old and she is my personal dj and producer she works for me and she has dark skin and she is a tomboy lesbian woman who loves women more than me and her nickname is chicken which is what i call her because she fears live chickens and she is my best friend and marcell johnson he is a rapper and songwriter and he is my best guy friend and he has dark skin and he is 27 years old and jason matthews he is my friend and he just hangs around me and he is 25 years old and this is my crew
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Mohamed Abdi
He is a 24yearold singer,songwriter,and rapper in New York City. He is cocky,selfcentered,and undisciplined. Mohamed is known for his flamboyant lifestyle,flaunting wealth and fame while pursuing numerous women. He is close to his friends Jessica Rowland and Marcell Johnson. His reckless behavior often lands him in trouble,such as when he loses his temper during a concert and fires a shot. Mohamed struggles with personal demons,including a troubled relationship with his mother and a tendency towards selfdestructive behavior.
Jason Matthews
He is a 25yearold entrepreneur who has been friends with Mohamed since childhood. He is charismatic,laidback,and opportunistic. Jason often joins Mohamed on wild adventures and takes advantage of the perks of being friends with a famous singer. He helps Mohamed navigate situations with women and occasionally gets involved in business opportunities that arise from their social exploits.
Jessica Rowland
She is a 26yearold DJ and producer working for Mohamed Abdi. She is feisty,independent,and loyal. Jessica is known as "Chicken" due to her aversion to live chickens. She is Mohamed's closest female friend and confidante,often defending him during confrontations. Despite her tough exterior,she cherishes her friendship with Mohamed. Her own personal life includes an onagain,offagain relationship with another woman,struggling with the challenges of being in a nontraditional lesbian relationship.
I was born in New York City, and I am 24 years old.
I am a singer, songwriter, and rapper.
I have tattoos and I wear gold and diamond chains.
I am cocky, self-centered, undisciplined, and spoiled.
I am a playboy, chasing women and girls, disrespectful, drama-prone, womanizing, and cocky.
I am friends with Jessica Rowland; she is my personal DJ and producer.
She works for me and has dark skin.
Her nickname is "Chicken"; I call her that because she fears live chickens.
She is my best friend and has a tomboy lesbian lifestyle, loving women more than men.
She is 26 years old.
My best guy friend is Marcell Johnson; he is a rapper and songwriter.
He has dark skin and is 27 years old.
Another friend of mine is Jason Matthews; he just hangs around me.
He is 25 years old.
This is my crew: Jessica Rowland, Marcell Johnson, and Jason Matthews.
I lounge on my couch in my penthouse studio, scrolling through beats on my phone while Jessica tweaks the mix on our latest track.
The bass is too loud, making my half-empty whiskey glass vibrate on the coffee table.
Marcell bursts in, his gold watch catching the dim light.
He's restless, complaining about writer's block on our upcoming collaboration.
When I admit I'm also stuck, he grins and pulls up his phone, showing me Instagram photos from Sapphire's - our favorite strip club downtown.
Jessica rolls her eyes but saves the session, knowing where this is headed.
I grab my leather jacket, already tasting the champagne.
Tonight, we chase inspiration under neon lights.
The bouncer nods us through Sapphire's velvet ropes while I slip him a hundred.
Inside, neon lights flash across chrome poles as "Money" by Cardi B rattles the speakers.
Jessica heads straight to the DJ booth to chat up her friend Destiny, who's spinning tonight.
Marcell and I claim our usual VIP table, and I order a bottle of Ace of Spades.
The dancers move to the beat, their bodies glistening under the lights.
A tall dancer in red catches my eye, and I motion for her to join us.
He nods towards the stage.
"Look around. Everyone in this club is moving to your beat."
The dancers are in perfect sync with my lyrics, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of "Often" - a song about wild nights and multiple conquests.
The crowd is dancing along, and even the bartenders are mouthing the words.
I pull out my phone and start recording, capturing the energy of the moment.
Jessica appears at our table with Destiny, both nodding in approval as they take in the scene.
The dancer leans closer, her voice barely audible above the music.
"I choreographed a special routine to your song," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear.
My chest swells with pride as I look around the club, taking in the sea of faces moving to my rhythm.
Several patrons have their phones out, live-streaming this moment on social media.
I feel the bass pulsing through my body as I watch the dancers move to my song.
The crowd's energy is electric, and I can feel the excitement in the air.
My fingers tap against the champagne bottle, keeping time with the beat.
I look over at the dancer in red, who's perfecting every move.
Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a seductive smile.
Without thinking, I hand my phone to Jessica and stand up, striding towards the stage.
The bouncer starts to block me but recognizes who I am.
I climb the steps, and the dancers make way for me, their sequins glinting under the lights.
Marcell leans in, his voice barely cutting through the music.
"You're not just watching anymore; you're part of the show now."
Jessica's eyes widen as she films, whispering to Destiny, "This could be the moment that changes everything for us."
I grab the mic and scan the packed club, feeling the bass vibrate through my bones.
The dancer in red moves behind me, her body swaying to the beat.
Jessica stands at the DJ booth, her eyes locked on the track as she times the drops perfectly.
Marcell and Jason post up near the stage, phones raised to capture every moment.
The crowd sways, mouthing every word as their hands rise into the air.
Security tightens around the stage as more clubgoers press forward, drawn by the live performance.
I grip the mic tighter as the final chorus approaches, my voice carrying over the pulsing bass and crowd noise.
The dancer in red moves in perfect sync behind me while Jessica nods, adjusting levels to keep my vocals crisp.
Marcell and Jason hold their phones high, capturing the moment as the packed crowd sways and mouths every word.
Security guards press back against the surge of bodies reaching toward the stage.
The song builds to its climax, and I strike my signature pose as the final beat drops.
I scan the crowd from my elevated position on stage, hundreds of hands reaching up towards me as the bass thunders in my ears.
The security team shifts uneasily as I edge closer to the stage lip, their tense faces illuminated by the pulsing lights.
Jessica shouts something from the DJ booth, but it's drowned out by the roaring audience.
The dancer in red grabs for my jacket, trying to pull me back, but I shrug her off.
Marcell and Jason push through the crowd below, positioning themselves among the mass of bodies.
I leap into the sea of outstretched hands, trusting the crowd to catch me.
The crowd surges around me, hands supporting and steadying me as I regain my footing.
I scan the mass of bodies, catching glimpses of Jessica in a corner with a striking woman covered in intricate tattoos.
They're locked in a passionate kiss, completely lost in each other.
The woman's dark hair cascades over Jessica's shoulder as they embrace.
I work my way through the crowd, grinning at how my best friend found her own adventure tonight.
When they finally break apart, the tattooed woman scribbles her number on Jessica's arm.
I weave through the sweaty bodies towards them, the bass still pulsing in my ears.
Jessica's hand rests on the woman's hip as they talk closely.
When she catches sight of me, her eyes light up and she waves me over eagerly.
The woman turns to face me, her full sleeve tattoos catching the neon lights.
"Hey, this is Maya," Jessica says, gesturing between us.
"She's a local artist and does tattoo designs for several of the dancers here."
Maya extends her hand with a confident smile, and I know this night is just the beginning.
I weave through the pulsing crowd back toward our VIP section, leaving Jessica and Maya to their flirting.
The bass thumps against my chest as I push through the bodies.
In the distance, I see Marcell and Jason already lounging on the plush leather seats of our booth, surrounded by empty bottles of champagne.
They're scrolling through their phones, probably reviewing footage from my impromptu stage dive.
I slide into the booth beside them, reaching for my half-empty glass of Ace of Spades.
Marcell shows me a clip he took while Jason flags down a waitress for another round.
"Did you see Jess with that tattooed girl?" Marcell asks, eyes still glued to his phone.
"Yeah, looks like she's finally moving on from her ex," I reply, taking a sip of champagne.
Jason leans in, lowering his voice, "Speaking of moving on, did you hear about the club's new owner?"
I lean against the VIP booth, my eyes scanning the crowded dance floor.
Jason continues, "Apparently, some rich girl bought Sapphire's. I heard she's young, too."
"Who is it?"
Marcell asks, his interest piqued.
"I'm not sure yet," Jason admits, "but rumor has it she's planning to revamp the place."
Just then, a figure emerges from behind the bar.
She's a woman with long blonde hair and piercing green eyes, wearing a sleek black blazer that accentuates her curves.
Her presence commands attention as she makes her way through the crowd towards our booth.
Jason notices her approach and leans in closer.
"Guys, I think that might be her."
As she gets nearer, we can see the confidence in her stride.
She exudes power and sophistication, her gaze locked on our booth.
When she finally reaches us, she introduces herself as Lyra Mathis.
She's 29 years old and clearly no stranger to the nightlife scene.
Lyra explains that she recently inherited a significant fortune from her father's business empire and has decided to invest in Sapphire's.
She plans to transform it into an exclusive club called Allure. As we talk, Lyra takes a seat next to me in the VIP booth.
She orders a bottle of premium tequila and begins pouring shots for each of us.
"Listen, I know you guys are regulars here," she says, her voice smooth and persuasive.
"I want to offer you something special. If you help me establish Allure as the go-to club in town, I'll give you permanent VIP access."
We exchange glances, intrigued by her proposal.
Marcell speaks up first, "What exactly do you need us to do?"
Lyra smiles, her eyes gleaming with determination.
"I want to create a club that offers an experience unlike anything else out there. I'm talking themed nights, exclusive parties...the works."
As she talks, she pours another round of shots for us.
"We'll have events like masquerade balls and lingerie nights. And for those who want something more...intimate...we'll have private rooms available."
I watch as Lyra expertly mixes drinks with a flair for showmanship.
It's clear she knows what she's doing behind the bar. After finishing our drinks, Lyra pulls out a business card from her blazer pocket and hands it to me.
Her fingers linger on mine for a moment longer than necessary before she withdraws them.
I glance at the card, then back at her, intrigued.
"So, what's in it for you?" I ask, curious about her true motives.
Lyra leans back, a sly smile playing on her lips, "Let's just say I have a taste for the extraordinary, and I'm betting on you to help me find it."
I lean back in the VIP booth, studying Lyra's embossed business card as she mingles with other guests.
The tequila shot burns in my throat as Marcell whispers his suspicions about her sudden interest in us.
Jason seems captivated by her confidence, but something about her calculated approach makes me uneasy.
When she catches me watching her, she raises her glass in a subtle toast.
I slip her card into my jacket pocket, noticing Jessica's concerned expression from across the club.
"Here you go, boys!"
Lyra returns with a sleek black envelope in hand.
She slides it across the table to us.
"What's this?"
I ask, curiosity piqued.
"Open it and see," she says, a playful smile dancing on her lips.
Inside, we find four metallic VIP passes.
"These are for Allure's grand opening next weekend," she explains, her eyes sparkling.
"These passes grant you unlimited bottle service and access to all private areas. And each one is worth $10,000."
Marcell examines his pass skeptically, while Jason is already planning his outfit for the event.
I glance at Jessica, noticing her tense posture as Lyra places a hand on my shoulder.
Leaning close, she whispers in my ear, "I've reserved a special area just for you."
As she pulls away, her gaze lingers on mine for a moment longer than necessary.
I wonder what strings are attached to this generous offer.
I slide the black VIP passes across the table, studying their embossed gold lettering as Lyra watches intently.
The bottle service waitress arrives with another round of Ace of Spades, but I wave her away.
I need a clear head to navigate this situation.
Lyra's perfume lingers as she leans closer, her manicured fingers drumming on the leather booth beside my thigh.
When she mentions private recording studios in Allure's basement, Marcell perks up despite his earlier skepticism.
I catch Jessica's warning glance from across the club before turning back to Lyra and giving her a noncommittal nod about attending.
I lean against the VIP bar at Sapphire's, watching Lyra work the room as she hands out her business cards to potential investors.
I wonder how many of them will end up at Allure's opening next weekend.
"Hey, you okay?"
Jessica asks, approaching me with Maya in tow.
She glances at the VIP passes on the table.
"Be careful around that girl," she warns, nodding toward Lyra.
"She seems too good to be true."
I shrug, sliding the passes into my jacket pocket.
"She's just trying to get us to her club. It's a business move."
Jessica raises an eyebrow.
"I don't know, man. She seemed really... interested in you."
I laugh, taking a sip of my drink.
"I'm not worried about it."
Maya leans against the bar beside me.
"I heard rumors about her last club venture," she says quietly.
"It closed down after only a few months. Some people say it was cursed."
I roll my eyes.
"That's ridiculous."
But a shiver runs down my spine as I remember the way Lyra's gaze lingered on mine when she handed me the VIP passes.
Jessica grabs my arm, her voice serious.
"You know how you are when you get involved with someone new. You dive in headfirst and forget about everything else. Just be careful, okay?"
I nod, trying to dismiss the unease creeping in.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep my head on straight," I assure her, though my mind is already racing with possibilities.
Maya exchanges a glance with Jessica, then adds, "Just promise us you'll keep your eyes open this time."
I signal to Marcell and Jason that I'm heading downstairs with Lyra to check out the recording space.
She leads me through a hidden door behind the main bar, her heels clicking against the metal stairs.
The basement corridor stretches dark and narrow, lit by dim red bulbs.
Lyra's perfume lingers in the air as she unlocks a heavy door at the end of the hall.
Inside, state-of-the-art recording equipment lines the walls.
I run my fingers over the mixing board, taking in the setup.
Security cameras are mounted in every corner of the room.
Lyra stands close behind me, her breath warm on my neck as she points out the soundproofing in the walls.
I turn to face her, realizing too late that every move here is being recorded.
I lean against the mixing board as she closes the door behind us.
She pours two glasses of champagne from a bottle chilling on the edge of the board.
I notice her hands are steady as she passes one glass to me.
"I'm glad you could make it tonight," she says, her voice husky as she takes a sip from her own glass.
The red lights cast shadows across her face as she moves closer, the hem of her designer dress brushing against my arm.
I lift my glass, clinking it against hers in a silent toast.
"You seem like a man who knows what he wants," she continues, her eyes never leaving mine.
"And I think I want you."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness.
"Is that right?"
She nods, setting her glass down on the mixing board behind me.
"I've never been with a man before," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.
"But I think I'd like you to be my first."
I pause, taken aback by her admission, and search her eyes for any hint of insincerity.
"Why me?" I ask, genuinely curious about her sudden vulnerability.
She smiles softly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Because you're the only one who seems to see past the facade."
I guide her across the dimly lit studio toward the black leather sofa, our fingers intertwined.
The security cameras' red lights blink silently above us as we move through the basement space.
Her champagne glass sits abandoned on the mixing board, the bubbles still rising.
My heart pounds against my chest as she follows my lead, her heels clicking softly on the concrete floor.
The air feels thick with tension and the faint scent of her perfume.
Lyra stops just before we reach the sofa, her expression shifting to something more serious.
"There's something you need to know," she says, her voice steady but low.
I nod, urging her to continue, sensing the weight of what she's about to reveal.