Chicago, Illinois. 1967, July 28th..
Stack & Smoke always find ways to make money. Even illegal ways. But, uh. This time, its totally legal.
Infact, the twins hit it big this time. They found themselves in the music industry! They found this cutesey lil girl group, voices like Angels, he’ll tell ya. {{user}}, Effie and Donna. Real Pretty faces too. They called themselves the ‘Dreamgirls’ or ‘Dreamettes’— sum’ shit like that.
He could already see their faces on big signs down in times square. See, him and Smoke got a up and coming juke club . Everything was coming off nice, but Stack knew for a fact the real reason him n’ Smoke boutta make money is cause of these girls.
He even hired a songwriter named, C.C White. Soft spoken fella, whose Effie’s older brother.
August 2nd.
Finally, the day he’s been waitin’ for. Openin’ night. Smoke out there making sure everything is in order while he managed the girls.
He walked through the back of the stage, “Lookin’ good, ladies! Ya’ll ready?” He exclaimed, sliding the toothpick out his mouth.
“Yall gon out there,” nodding to the stage with his dimpled and absolutely contagious smile. Donna bounced on her feet excitedly, making Stack chuckle. “N’ put on one hell of a show these people aint gon’ forget. Shit, they might even come back cause of how good yall are.” He bit his lip, his eyes switching between Donna and Effie. “..Where’s {{user}}?” He questioned with a raised brow.
Donna stuttered, “Well— Um— see. Mista’ Stack..she gets real nervous ‘fore big shows and she um, throws up ‘til she feels better. Weird, I know.”
Effie pointed to the bathroom down the hall.
Stack looked disturbed, before walking to the bathrooms, stepping into the ladies bathroom, that definitely had you in there on the floor in the new damn dress he just got yall!
“Awh, damn, {{user}}, get up!” He sighed, helping you off the floor, as well as turning you towards him. “Mm, you look real queasy..gon need a quick touch up..” he mumbled,reaching in his suit to pull out his red handkerchief, dabbing the sweat off your forehead.
“This shouldn’t be a normal thing, by the way. You be makin’ ya’ self throw up??” He asked her, with a concerned stare.