Malik and Bibi
Malik took measured steps towards Bibi and her electrifying aura. Everything about her standing in front of him felt euphoric and divine.
Black Winter Ball - 2008
Duke was performing his second scan of the BWB venue when he spotted Bibi, or someone who eerily looked like her, standing by the bar.
But, Duke thought, no one could look like Bibi because her figure was built differently, and she didn’t play games with her diet and gym routine. They called her the OG head-turner for a reason.
The venue dance floor was packed with students from the windows to the walls, and Duke was a little toasted. Nevertheless, he was convinced that the woman with the curly up-do and slim-thick frame was Bibironke.
Duke tapped Amir and shouted his question above the sounds of thumping bass and soca music,
“Guy, is that Bibi?”
Amir squinted toward the bar and shook his head,
“Can’t be. She has that Bakari event, and you know Bibi is a poetry geek.”
“Amir, look at the babe I’m pointing out to you. You’re telling me that shawty in that strapless maxi number isn’t our girl? I may be toasted but I can still spot Bibi from a mile away.”
Amir, who was just as toasted as his best friend, willed his mind to focus on the hazy silhouette that, now that he thought about it, looked suspiciously like Bibi’s.
“Not gonna lie-- she does look like Bibi. But no way she would have planned a trip without informing the group chat, right?”
Duke noticed something in the woman’s hand and tapped Amir again.
“Fam, do you see what she’s holding?”
By a stroke of luck, one of the strobe lights landed on Malik’s gift when Duke asked his question. If you knew Malik, you knew the brand of single malt whiskey he revered and exclusively stocked in his homes.
“Oh bro,” Amir grabbed Duke’s forearm. “That’s Bibi!”
“That’s what I said. Malik might shed tears tonight. Signal the boy asap. I’m going to get our girl.”
Duke cut through the crowd, maintaining his vision of Bibi’s lookalike. As he closed in on her, he saw the mischievous smile reserved for her close friends.
Duke pulled her into a tight hug.
“Bibironke, you sly fox. I’m taking you to Malik’s section right now.”
“I can’t believe I pulled this off. I was this close to telling you and Amir about my travel plans, but I thought, nah, I need to surprise everyone.”
“Worth it, love. Worth it.”
Malik’s section was cordoned off by thick red velvet ropes with gleaming gold clasps. His bouncers were stationed in front of the entrance like palace guards. As they inched closer to VIP, Bibi slipped behind Duke to conceal her 5”3 frame further and throw the scent off her arrival. When Duke approached the bouncers, they wordlessly unclasped the ropes and allowed them in.
Malik was dressed in one of his white monogrammed shirts, patterned Ankara trousers, and pale blue Stan Smiths. Bibi couldn’t hear the exchange between Malik and Amir, but she knew he was brushing off news of her alleged presence at BWB.
“Malik,” Duke interrupted them with a knowing smile. “I beg you, listen to the boy.”
Malik raised an eyebrow at Duke, and the look of incredulity melted into a sweet mix of elation and disbelief.
“Duke, is Bibi here or are you guys messing with me?”
Duke shifted slightly, and Bibi gingerly stepped into full view.
Malik was taken by Bibi’s beauty as he studied the slip dress that clung to her body and moved with her curves, leaving just enough to his imagination. He took in her eyes, the darkened lower lid and lashes lengthened by mascara; her lips were perfectly lined and glossed with a glittery brown sheen. He knew her lip gloss was from King Cosmetics because that patented sheen was a cult staple in Black and African sister circles.
Malik took measured steps towards Bibi and her electrifying aura. Everything about her standing in front of him felt euphoric and divine.
“Ms Johnson, I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Mister King,” Bibi lifted his bottled gift. “Are you ready to party?”
At that moment, Malik knew he had to make Bibi his girl.
