“Somebody’s trying to kill me…”
Fantasy ducked when she heard the shot, but then she looked up and noticed a bullet had entered just above the DJ booth. She crawled toward the door, tried not to get trampled, finally stood and ran out of the club. Her heart raced.
“Sh*t!” she said when she realized she’d left her cell phone next to the turn table. The people—about thirty of them—were going to their cars, cussing, and fussing. But, Fantasy waited for the confusion to die down. Just as Fantasy prepared to turn around and head back inside of the club, a bullet whizzed by her face. Out of the side of her eye, she couldn’t tell who was aiming at her. The person had on a hood. Who was it?
In case the shooter knew how to shoot straight, Fantasy ran down the block and zig zagged. She yanked off her mask and ran as fast as 6-inch heels would take her. Fantasy spotted a subway station up ahead, ran down the steps and hoped on the train. Relieved when the doors closed, she didn’t know if she’d ever catch her breath. As she sat down next to an old woman, she thought, Somebody’s trying to kill me…
Fantasy, an up and coming, female DJ tries to break into the male dominated deejay business, but not before someone decides they want to take her out. But, who is it? Who could it be?
In this short story, we get to see how Fantasy commands the turntables, her love life, and chin checks guys who stand in her way. But will be fighting on her own be enough?
When a young female DJ decides to pursue her career in the clubs, she thinks she has the upper hand until someone goes after her.