Life behind the red rope sucks. The bass of the club music bounces my organs and I was dying to get in there. Not only to take care of what I needed to, but also to party a little. The red rope finally went up and I stepped through the door into the strobe lights and smoky haze. The bar glowed a neon blue and I slid up to it, spotting my best friend Deleon in his brightly colored Rasta hat. 

"Crayola!" I holler in my best Jamaican accent. He turns to me and smiles. 

"Jafakin!" he called back. He finished pouring the customer their drink and came over to me, wiping down the bar to appear busy.  

"How are ya, my brotha?" he asked, leaning across the bar briefly to hug me. "My motha has been askin' about ya. Ya didn't visit her like ya promised." He jokingly wagged a finger at me. 

"Work got in my way," I defended. "But I need a quick favor." He leaned on his hands and waited for me to explain. I took the little plastic baggie from my pocket and slid it across the bar to him. 

"Cass is in here tonight. She forgot to take her vitamins and she needs to. When she gets a drink just crush these up and stir 'em in. But don't tell her or anyone with her. She hates these things." I flashed him the most honest smile I could manage and he took the bag without a question.  

"You got it, brotha," he said. 

"Alright thank you, man." I leaned across the bar to give him daps then made him get me a beer, for which I tipped generously. I found an empty arm chair and sat back, scanning the crowd for Cass. I spotted her a moment later, chatting with Deleon while he had his back turned, making her drink. From my angle, I watched him crush up the molly with the mint for her usual mojito dump it in. I smirked into my beer. Hehe, "vitamins". Yeah right.