An Early Look At Benefriends

Benefriends: Chapter One

“Xeno’s fifty-five minute set, while packed with tracks both locally known and previously unreleased, seemed to fly by as every person in the building bounced on their toes to the pounding bass that underscored each impassioned hit. The night ended with Xeno freestyling over Devin The Dude’s ‘What a Job’, and I for one was blown away by the lyrical ode to H-town rap. Listen to me when I tell you, Xeno is the next big thing out of Houston.”

An afro-covered head appeared over the top of my cubicle just as I’d typed the last words of my feature. Soon the tall, lanky, body attached to that head came into view as he stood and peered over the delicate partition. With lifted brows, I waited for my coworker to speak.“Hey, Morrison. Did you finish the write-up for that Xeno show?”My eyes dropped to my computer screen. I hit save and navigated to my email, quickly attaching the article and sending it off to my editor. “Yep. Just sent it over to K. Mac.”Aaron Sullivan came around the cubicle and leaned on the open end of the five-foot panel that separated my desk from the desk of Shanice, the food critic. “Awesome. I already know you killed the recap; that show was bananas.”Leaning back in my wheeled chair, I held my fist out, nodding when he bumped it with his own. Aaron had been been tasked with covering the show along with me, but while my job was to mentally record every detail for the article I would write, Aaron’s was to capture those same details with his expensive as fuck camera. His keen eye missed nothing and I had no doubt that his photos next to my words would be dynamic, maybe even cover-worthy.“I appreciate that, bro. Xeno is a monster on the mic and I’m just waiting for everyone to catch up.”He nodded, familiar with my regular boasting of the local artist who only came on the scene three short years ago. From the moment my homie, Vick, slid Xeno’s debut mixtape into my inbox, I’d been hooked.“So…” I looked at him expectantly as his eyes bounced around my cubical before settling on me. “Any plans tonight?”I shot a quick glance at the calendar on my wall. It was the second Saturday of the month. I chuckled. After working with me for two years, Sullivan knew damn well that I had plans.“Bro…” I tried to think of a way to derail what I knew was coming without being too harsh but he beat me to the chase, seemingly anticipating my response.“Listen, all I’m asking for is an invitation. That’s it! Just let me tag along to wherever y’all are meeting and I can take it from there.”I groaned into my palm as I covered my eyes, not wanting to see the desperation on Sullivan’s face. He’d been singing this same sad love song since I’d brought him with me to last year’s Christmas party, thrown by Vick and his brother Darwin. Sullivan had waxed non-poetically many times in the five months since then about laying eyes on Monie, one of my homegirls who was also in attendance at the party and who he immediately dubbed his “future wife.” Monie was one of the same homegirls who attended this monthly meetup that me and our mutual group of four other friends from middle-through-high school held religiously.I’d actually been surprised when he’d bum rushed me, insisting that I introduce him to her, because I wouldn’t have guessed that Sullivan was into big girls. Don’t get me wrong, Monie was bad, on some Tocarra Jones circa 2004 type shit, but I’d always assumed that Sullivan would be more into women who looked like they drank water for lunch, because he looked like a damn wafer-thin model himself. Unsurprisingly, Monie had shot Sullivan down when he stepped to her, and I lowkey thought it was because he was prettier than her. Real talk, Sullivan could probably make a more decent living working in front of the camera than he did working behind it. Nevertheless, Monie’s gentle but firm curve didn’t deter him. In fact, it seemed to fuel him, and every month like clockwork he ambled his spindly self over to my side of the office to inquire about her on the days he damn well knew I was due to see her. It was pathetic, really. I felt bad for dude.“Sullivan, you need to chill out, man. You know there is no way in hell I’d bring you along just for you to be up in her face all night.” Not only would it be sad to watch, Monie would tear my ass a new hole for polluting what should be a safe space with Sullivan’s thirsty energy.“Come on, Morrison! That’s my future wife! How are you going to keep me from my future?” His tawny cheeks reddened as he flailed his hands in the air.I shook my head. “Bro, you sound real unhinged right now. My girl said she wasn’t interested and that means she’s not interested. You need to accept that and move the hell on. Seriously. They didn’t teach you that no means no at that preppy-ass private school you attended up in Austin?” That seemed to hit the intended mark as he immediately straightened his slouched stance, his face tightening at the severity of my insinuation.“Why would you take it there, bro? It’s not that serious.”Cocking my head to the side, I eyed my likely harmless but lovestruck and significantly clueless coworker. “It’s not that serious to you because you aren’t the one having to deal with someone forcing themselves into your space. Look at it like this, if it was meant to be you wouldn’t have to force it. She wouldn’t pretend not to want you; it would just fall into place.”I waited while Sullivan contemplated my words, rolling them over in his head and finally deciding that what I’d said made sense. Or he could have just been tired of me telling him no. Either way he nodded, mumbled an apology that he really should have been giving to Monie, and shuffled over to the elevator to make his way back to his own three-walled space. With a shake of my head I powered down my computer and gathered my things.As soon as he shed that cloak of entitlement Sullivan would be alright. For the most part he’d been cool to work with in the couple of years since he’d joined the staff at the Browntown Weekly, where I’d been the music journalist since I’d graduated Franklin six years ago.Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I palmed my keys and headed to the elevators. My weekend had begun and I no longer had the time to worry about another man’s relationship woes. Especially since—after overcoming my own—I worked hard at making sure I never put myself in a position to have them again. The only thing on my mind was meeting up with my day ones for a much needed night of laughs and good food.