The Kingston Kid

Kingston spends the day with friends and family. Everywhere he goes, a crowd gathers. People call his name and whip out camera phones. Traffic slows. When he visits his grandfather's famous studio, the streets are blocked off. He stops to eat fried chicken and is flanked by photographers from the local paper.

By nightfall, everything is ready for him at the Sunset Jamaica Grande Resort. Dancers and DJs entertain the crowd. Dressed in dark jeans, a white tee, and a white sport coat, Kingston makes his entrance to the screams of 200 friends and family members. A birthday greeting from his mom plays on a big screen: She says she has a Bentley Continental GT waiting at home for him, just like the one he got her. Of course, she seems to have bought it with his own money.

Kingston spends much of his time at the party dancing, posing for pictures with cute girls, toasting on the mike, and just clowning around. At midnight, he disappears for several hours, out of view of the cameras. Rumors circulate of an afterparty, the real party, where MTV won't be filming.

Around 3:30 a.m., the birthday boy reappears at Ocean's Eleven, a nightclub where thick ganja smoke wafts through the air and girls wearing next to nothing grind on men. Outside, the parking lot is packed with people burning spliffs and grilling jerk chicken. They're Ochi's rudeboys and dancehall queens, a much rougher element, from the looks of them, than anyone in the United States associates with Sean Kingston. Yet he seems at home milling through this crowd.

Inside, Black Chiney's newest selector, Dinero, is in the DJ booth. Mirror, one of the most talented artists on Time Is Money, is on a mike putting out a few of his dancehall bangers as dancers from different crews compete. Dinero, who lives in Coral Springs, keeps the crowd amped with "bumbaclaat" this and "bloodclaat" that, leading the club's angry-looking owner to tell him to keep it clean. So Dinero picks up the mike again and says, "All right, all right, no more bloodclaat swearwords, people. Watch ya bloodclaat language!" This has the crowd in stitches.

Just before 5 a.m., Kingston makes his way back outside, with most of the party following in his footsteps. They all still want a piece of him, and no one knows when or if he'll be back this way. Some want photos, some try to hand him CDs, some attempt to get him to agree to make music with them at some later date. A few look thuggish and jealous, which is understandable as their women gravitate toward him. Kingston has to be careful making his next move, but as he breaks away from a few ladies, he says, "This whole thing is like a dream come true."