Chapter 8

A FEW DAYS BEFORE NEW YEAR’S DAY

LATE DECEMBER 2019 • CHRISTMAS BREAK CONTINUED

It was a beautiful yet cold day in the middle of winter.

The skies were clear and blue, and Jeremiah was ready to take on the day.

He pulled up into the driveway right in the middle of a red Camaro and a black Toyota. The red car belonged to Lamar, and the black to Dreya.

“Wassup, nigga!” Dreya yelled to him from her rolled-down car window. “How we get hur befa you?” she shook her head.

Jeremiah just rolled his window back up, and ignored her, putting on his headphones with a smile, relistening to the beat he had created himself, repeating the new lyrics he wrote for his new song.

The three were at a recording studio. Jeremiah had asked Dreya and Lamar to come with him to give him their honest feedback.

If there were any opinions he trusted with his music, it was theirs. They never held back their true thoughts and feelings which Jeremiah appreciated. He loved to be good at what he wanted to do–hell, he wanted to be great at whatever he dreamed of, so he needed that honesty.

“Nigga, hurry up n get out the cah. You pussy?” Lamar knocked on his window, trolling him.

Jeremiah then rolled it down, “Please,” Jeremiah smacked his lips. “Soon as I get out es mufuckin’ cah, we’a see who pussy,” he told him, then started rolling up his window, suddenly feeling an arm around his neck.

“Hoe ass nigga always talkin’ hella shit,” Lamar put him in a headlock, making Jeremiah laugh in his hold.

“You a bold bitch–Jus’ wait!” Jeremiah struggled a bit before Lamar let him go, running inside the building, holding onto his pants that were slightly falling because he could never not sag.

“Catch me then, goofy!” Lamar yelled with a small laugh.

Dreya just sighed, “I deadass can’t go nowhur witchu niggas,” she smacked her lips, walking inside the building after Lamar.

Jeremiah only laughed and shook his head. This why I love them.

He was feeling nervous, and his friends knew the best way to cure it was to do what they always did, joke and troll and to not be weird and “Oh, don’t be nervous, Miah. You are amazing!”

That felt… infantilizing.

Jeremiah felt that a lot when people knew of him being on the spectrum.

He rolled up his window and finally turned off his car. He exited the car with his headphones on, the beat playing at a low volume. He headed towards the front door, looking up at the sign. “Taylor Made Music,” he repeated to himself before stepping inside.

Jeremiah headed towards the front desk of the music store that was filled with dozens of instruments and equipment to check in for the studio time he paid for, eyeing the man sitting behind the counter, looking like he shouldn’t be working there.

That’s what Jeremiah thought the few times he saw him.

“Wassup, young nigga. You got studio time, right? You look familia,” he spoke.

“Yeah, Mr Malik. Iss Jeremiah,” he told Malik who just changed his expression to an “O” face before grabbing his clipboard and logging down Jermiah’s arrival.

Malik then came from behind the desk, “Come on,” he waved to him. “The stud n the other luh nigga hur witchu?” he asked, pointing to the two.

“C’mon, ‘Lik, you know me, nigga,” Lamar looked at him with a certain look.

Malik has bought weed from him several times before.

“Ohhhh, shit,” Malik laughed, running over to dap Lamar up. “Speakin’ of, when y’all leave es mufucka, come ta et gray mustang out front,” he spoke low, and Lamar nodded.

“I gotchu, my nigga,”

“Aye, can y’all make a deal a luh later,” Jeremiah giggled, making Malik and Lamar smack their lips.

“Niggas is punctual and no fun,” Malik scoffed, leading the three to the studio.

•••

After setting up and giving the instrumental to Malik, Jeremiah nervously walked into the booth, putting on the headphones.

Malik just played the instrumental, fixing it up, and adding some touches to it–to which Jeremiah approved of. He noticed in the few studio sessions, he was one of the most perfectionist people he met when it concerned his own work.

However, in the few sessions, with the tracks he had recorded and Malik mixed and mastered, he was more than happy with them, so he trusted Malik’s vision.

“Aight, I’m about finished… less start recordin’ es hook. Es coo’, Jeremih?” Malik asked.

“It’s Jere–miah!” Dreya corrected, making Jeremiah laugh from inside the booth.

“Es what I said, luh mama,” Malik smacked his lips.

“No, you said, ‘Jere–MIH!’ like the non-singin’ ass nigga. Two different niggas!” Dreya emphasized. “N ian no luh mama,”

Malik just furrowed his brows, “Look then, young sir, we all country ass niggas, you know I said Jeremiah, c’mon now–anyways,” he looked back at Jeremiah through the booth window. “You ready, Freddy no Cougar,” he chuckled.

Jeremiah just laughed again. He liked it here. He realized he made some good choices with things lately.

His anxiety was gone. It was like Malik picked up on it and adjusted. He fucked with that. He would leave him a tip later. “Yeah, I’m ready! Less get it,” he spoke, pulling out the sheet of paper he had written his lyric on from his pocket.

“Aight,” Malik started to play the song, “Come in wit energy onnes beat drop!” he spoke into the microphone that was directly connected to Jeremiah’s headset.

Jeremiah nodded, then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then when the beat dropped, he started to sing.

•••

“Aye, no fuckin’ flaw shit–es might be a hit, Luh Toy Story,” Malik laughed and dapped Jeremiah up, making him smile.

“You think so?” he asked, looking down at Malik, blushing a bit. He respected his opinion, so if he was saying this, it must mean his song was good.

Malik nodded, “I do,” he smiled, patting Jeremiah on the shoulder. “Aight, I’m rey go pick up my kids, so Imma leave you young… men,” he looked over at Dreya. “…to it,”

“Fuck you,” Dreya laughed, running over to playfully punch him.

“Aye, sir. I hit niggas now!” Malik chuckled before running out of the room. “Bye!” he shouted as the door slammed shut, leaving the three friends alone.

Jeremiah sat in Malik’s spot while Dreya and Lamar sat on the couch. “So what you two think?” he asked them.

“I agree wit the short, angry nigga,” Dreya spoke first.

“Me too,” Lamar nodded as started rolling up a blunt on the table. “I think… es one of the rawest I hurd you onna song–like… you was tellin’ yo story but on yo cocky shit!” Lamar stood up, getting hyped as the song played in the background. “Man, my nigga rey be the next Weezy in es mufucka!” he dapped Jeremiah up, making him laugh even more.

He couldn’t stop smiling at the moment. There was no masking at the moment–just true happiness. Two things made him happy, basketball and music. “I’m glad y’all fuck wit it. Y’all know how I get,” he shook his head.

“I know, but you needa start trustin’ yoself, Miah. You took yo meds?” Lamar asked, noticing Jeremiah being a little more hyper than usual.

“I gotta performance,” Jeremiah answered, referring to his ADHD medication.

They diagnosed him with that even way before the autism. “Them shits slow me down–which is good fa everythang but performin’ n basketball,”

“I guess–take ’em toma tho’,” Dreya told him, and Jeremiah nodded his head.

“Y’all swur y’all my parents,” he waved them off.

“Well.. sorta kinda,” Lamar spoke, cracking up laughing. “Aye—run et shit back! Turn it up, Miah!” he yelled, and Jeremiah turned around in Malik’s chair, pushing up the volume button, and then the three of them simultaneously started bopping their heads to the beat as Jeremiah quietly sang the lyrics.

Yeah… it’s going to be a hit. Jeremiah thought, smiling to himself.

•••

The three ended up chilling in Jeremiah’s car for a moment, relistening to the track a few times while smoking and passing around a joint. “So, y’all wanna come ta es party wit me?” Jeremiah asked them after turning down his music.

“You know I’m always down fa a money move,” Lamar chuckled.

“I’m down fa da hoes,” Dreya nodded, taking a hit from the joint, then passing it to Jeremiah from the backseat.

Jeremiah grabbed the joint, taking an inhale. “Aight, follow me–”

“You go too fast, Sonic,” Lamar smacked his lips.

“Well, you got my lo, nigga–Keep up, or hop inna back, slug ass nigga,” Jeremiah spat back, starting up his car.

Lamar just waved him off, opening the car door and exiting to head to his own.

“Send me da addy–less race,” Dreya chuckled from the backseat.

“Betty, bitch,” Jeremiah cackled before texting her the address.

The three then kind of raced to the party’s location–Jeremiah arrived first with Dreya pulling in next to him, yelling out her window, “Damn!” she shouted, making Jeremiah laugh.

They exited their cars, walked up to the front doors of the building. “Who you?” the bouncer asked.

“Woody Kent,” Jeremiah told him, moving one side of his headphones away from his ears, looking down at him.

The bouncer just blinked, then looked down at his clipboard. “Okay–you n ya crew jus’ go around back. Es whur they let the artists in,” he pointed to a door on the side of the building that the other three followed.

“Aye, bein’ friends wit a rapper got it’s perks, huh?” Lamar chuckled, throwing an arm over Jeremiah’s shoulder as they headed inside of the building.

“It do,” Dreya agreed, dapping Lamar up. Jeremiah just paid them no mind as they were led to his small dressing room.

After waiting around for a while, Jeremiah was given instructions on what to do. They had rearranged the lineup since one of the performers didn’t show up, and they asked him if he could go on early. “But–Ion know if I got et many songs? To perform?” Jeremiah asked the promoter.

“Miah…” Lamar waved him over. “What about the song you just recorded?” he asked after overhearing him talking.

Jeremiah shook his head. “Ian ready,”

“Yes you are–you know all the words. Stop tryna always be perfect, Jeremiah,” Dreya told him, grabbing his arm. “Just save it fa last, n see if the otha nigga show up,”

Sighing, Jeremiah nodded his head. “Okay. I trust y’all,” he told them, then went back over to the promoter. “Aight. I’m coo–more payment?”

The shorter man nodded, “Yes–double if the other performer doesn’t show up. You got ten minutes, Woody,” he told him.

The ten minutes felt more like ten second for Jeremiah. Before he went on, he grabbed the custom microphone that Micah gifted him. “Et bitch is clean,” Lamar told him. “When you get that??” he asked as they started to head backstage. Jeremiah convinced him to go this time.

“Micah got it fa me,” Jeremiah answered without thinking.

Dreya and Lamar both looked at one another, “Et bitch look expensive…” Dreya added on.

“Don’t it,” Jeremiah shook his head. “Ion like him gettin’ me all ‘ese fancy thangs–make me feel like I owe a nigga, lowkey,” he chuckled while Dreya and Lamar just looked at him in confusion.

“Are–” Lamar was about to speak, but Dreya put a hand over his mouth. She shook her head, pulling out her phone, to the notes app, and then typing up a message. She then passed him her phone.

‘Whatever u thinking, unthink it. You know we gotta let Jeremiah come to us.”

Lamar looked up and nodded. They knew how their friend was.

Jeremiah wasn’t good at being questioned or bombarded with things that surround him being super vulnerable, or things that fucked up his norm.

It was from his past trauma and his autism.

He would often get angry and defensive, so they just learned to allow Jeremiah to feel all his feelings, and he would eventually them.

Lamar just sighed. He didn’t want to think that Jeremiah was gay, but he also has been knowing Jeremiah for many years.

They just dropped the subject, following behind him to the back of the stage.

It was a small one–probably around two hundred people in the building.

“Y’ALL, NOW, THE NEXT GUEST IS SOMEONE THAT’S BLOWIN’ UP IN THE CITY RIGHT NOW–GIVE IT UP FA WOODY–KEEENNT!” The MC yelled out.

Jeremiah then ran out onto the stage, hearing the crowd grow even louder. He took the microphone from the MC, making sure his customized one was hooked up.

Every time Jeremiah went on stage, he felt a bit of freight, but when he heard the crowd chanting his name, all he could do was smile. “Y’ALL READYYYYYY?” he yelled into the microphone, hearing the crowd roar even louder.

“WOODY–FREESTYLE! WOO–DY FREE-STYLE! WOO-DY FREESTYLE!” the crowd chanted the title of one of his most popular songs.

“Oh, es what y’all wanna hur?” Jeremiah asked, pointing his microphone to the crowd as the MC hurried and switched his microphones after his gifted one was connected.

“YESSSSS!” the crowd screamed, and he even saw some people bang on the wood of the stage below him.

He looked back, eyeing Dreya and Lamar also going along with the crowd, only feeling a smile on his face. “AIGHT, DJ–QUE UP DA MUFUCKIN” TRACK!” Jeremiah yelled.

It was an old-school type of beat, which gained him popularity by mixing old-school elements with his newer style lyrics.

“Aye, y’all ready? Y’all ready?” he repeated as the beat dropped. “Sing it wit me!”

“MY NAME WOODY–LAST NAME KENT! I BE WIT A NIGGA NAMED BUZZ, HE A BITCH!” the crowd sang his opening line, in reference to Toy Story, making Jeremiah chuckle at the lyrics.

“Why y’all like es stupid ass song?” he spoke into the microphone as the crowd continued to sing. He just pointed his microphone towards them.

“NIGGA STOLE MY CASH–SO, I TOOK HIS BITCH!

NOW SHE PREGNANT WIT MY JUNIOR–FUCK… SHIT!”

Jeremiah then pointed his microphone back to himself as he started rapping.

“My name–” he pointed his microphone to the crowd.

“WOODY!” they yelled, then he put the microphone back to himself.

“Last name?”

“KENT!” they screamed in unison.

Jeremiah smiled as he put his microphone back to his lips, “I gotta lotta buzz, like a bee–I’m the shit,” he rapped.

“Up norf shawty say she luh da accent.

“She told me, ‘Do whateva, daddy. I give you my consent,” he winked towards the crowd, thinking of a specific time when the person that weighed heavy on his mind told him that he could do whatever he wanted during sex.

“So I slurped da pussy,”

“Woody Succulent”

“I hit it from da back,” Jeremiah pointed the microphone to the crowd.

“BABY TAKE ET DICK!” they screamed the lyrics, making him laugh.

“Da pussy look real fat,” Jeremiah continued.

“Word ta Keyshia Cole,” Lamar spoke the adlib into the microphone.

“Woody Heaven sent–bitch! EVERYBODY SANG IT WIT ME!” he jumped up and down.

“MY NAME WOODY.

ION GOTTA ANDY

BUT I GOTTA .40 IN MY POCKET NAMED RANDY

FUCK WIT KENT YOU WIT SLEEPIN’ WIT DA FISH LIKE SANDY

MY BRODY GOT HIS TOOLS ON HIM–CALL HIM HANDY MANNY!”

The performance continued with the crowd hardly letting Jeremiah get a word in. “Aye, my time is up, y’all,” Jeremiah sighed as he breathed deeply from performing. It was almost more exhausting than basketball. “I wanted ta perform es new song I recorded,” he spoke and the audience only booed. “Y’alldon’tt do me like et–look, I’m havin’ a performance on New Yurs–Imma post about it on my Instagram. I’m performin’ the new song thur at my nigga Dreya party–be thur or be a square n hur it first when it release ta streamin’,” Jeremiah smiled as the crowd roared and clapped for him.

He just looked out into the crowd, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw Michael Jr in the crowd… next to him, Kelia.

They didn’t look suspicious–just, standing next to each other, but where was Mica?.

Jeremiah thought it was a little weird for Micah’s brother to be hanging out alone with his girlfriend.

“Aight, give it up one mo time fa Woody Kent!” the MC ran out on stage. “Our next performer…” he continued which told Jeremiah, Lamar, and Dreya, it was time to exit the stage.

When Jeremiah left the stage, he only felt overwhelmed with euphoria. “Aye, you killed et bitch,” Lamar dapped him up, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Thank you, bro,” Jeremiah smiled.

“Aye, Woody Freestyle rey be huge, my nigga,” Dreya nodded. “I’m rey put es video on TikTok–nigga’s rey go viral,” she chuckled as she edited the video quickly.

“You think so, sis?” he asked, but before she could answer, he asked another question. “Y’all niggas see Michael Jr n Kelia in the crowd?” he asked as they headed to the crowd–it was still a party, and the three wanted to enjoy the other performances while getting fucked up.

“Kelia Micah bitch, right?” Lamar asked, and Jeremiah nodded, “You lyin’.” Lamar chuckled, slappingDreya’sa shoulder. “Pretty boy life ain’t so perfect–his brotha fuckin’ on his bitch? Es pregnant? Damnnnn,”

“Don’t be a gossipin’ ass nigga, Mar–they ain’t even look sus… but why you atta function witcho brotha bitch?” Jeremiah asked as the three approached the bar with their IDs ready to go.

Dreya just sighed and shook his head, “I mean… you close ta the nigga now–yo new bestie. You rey tell him?”

“Close is crazy–bestie is even crazier, but… nah, they was chillin’–Ion know rich people family dynamics. Shit could be normal fa them. Ian tryna poke my head inta allet…” Jeremiah shook his head.

“Well…” Dreya shook her head, turning towards the bar to order them a round of shots.

Lamar just chuckled, “Speak of the devil–pit bull pup senior, headin’ fa you wit some groupie hoes behind him,” he spoke, referring to Michael Jr.

Jeremiah whipped his head towards him, seeing Michael Jr in fact heading his way with a big smile on his face. “Wassup, Jeremiah–or should a nigga say, Woody–last name Kent,” he reached his hand out to dap Jeremiah up. “Aye, et shit is a fuckin’ hit, bro,” he told Jeremiah.

Nodding, Jeremiah dapped him back up. “I appreciate it, Jr–whatchu doin’ hur?” he asked, nosily.

“Me n a luh shawty I been kickin’ it wit came hur,” Michael Jr spoke which made Jeremiah’s eyes almost widen, but he had to act like he didn’t see Kelia on stage. “…My brotha BM hur too–jus’ offered ta get ha out da house, ya know… Micah be busy as hell,” he spoke a bit quickly.

“Oh… really. Ian know,” Jeremiah told him. “

“Yeah, n speakin’ of busy–our one V one comin’ up soon,” he patted Jeremiah on the shoulder.

Jeremiah raised a brow, “Our one V one?” he asked. “Me n Micah ain’t even had ours yet…” he chuckled.

“C’mon, Miah,” Michael Jr laughed. “Me n you bof know Micah ain’t rey win et–You da betta playa,” he told him with a smile.

Maybe in high school, Michael Jr’s comment woulda made Jeremiah genuinely laugh, but in this moment, he only felt sad, bad for Micah–He almost wanted to lose on purpose, although he thought Micah was about the same skill level as him, maybe a little less, but still on top.

He felt bad because this was his brother–Even if, from an objective standpoint, he thought Micah had no chance, why wouldn’t he train him? Why was he telling Jeremiah this information? Why wasn’t he rooting for his family?

Those were questions that surged through Jeremiah’s mind at the moment, but he wouldn’t stick his head in family business, so he just gave Michael Jr a smile. “Right…” he dapped him up. “I mean–Ion plan on losin’ ours neitha–by the way,” he told him, looking him into his eyes.

Michael Jr just smiled, “You need a couple mo yurs, luh bro.”

“WOODY KENTTTTTT!” a woman screamed behind Michael Jr, cutting off Jeremiah from getting the last word.

“Well, you got fans ta attend to…” Michael Jr smiled at him. “I’a see you laytuh, Woody,”

Jeremiah nodded again, feeling his body being hugged.

He looked down, seeing it was Alana, Kelia’s friend he met at a party he and Micah went to. “Alana?” he asked. “You ain’t tell me you were rey be hur?”

“Finally, you done talkin’ ta pit senior–take es shot, nigga,” Lamar chimed in.

“You wanna shot, luh mama?” Jeremiah asked her with a smile.

She just looked up at him with her lips between her teeth, nodding. “Of course… Woody,”

•••

“Ooo, fuck,” Alana moaned with her face pressed into the single bathroom mirror while Jeremiah quickly gave her backshots. “Oh, god! Oh God! Oh, God—you feel so good, baby,”

“I do?” Jeremiah breathed, keeping one hand on her waist, watching as he fucked her, feeling his dick throbbing from the way she gripped and how wet she was around him—even though the condom. “Pussy feel even betta, ma,” he whispered in her ear, smacking his hips against her ass repeatedly.

Alana bit down on her lip, feeling herself only get wetter and wetter with each aggressive stroke Jeremiah delivered her. “Keep fuckin’ me like that, baby,” she moaned out, feeling her legs shaking as Jeremiah brushed against her spot. “Right there,” she panted.

Jeremiah only put his palm on her forehead, holding her head as he started fucking her even faster; the two heard clapping noises and moans throughout the bathroom. “Fuck!” she screamed.

His eyes rolled back a bit from the pleasure he was feeling—he hadn’t had full sex besides head since he and Micah.

He was sexually frustrated, and Alana came at the right time.

Jeremiah didn’t know what he was waiting for. He could’ve easily solved that problem a while ago, but he just stuck with James giving him head from time to time and the other few girls.

“I love you,” she moaned, making Jeremiah laugh.

“I betchu do wit es good ass dick I’m givin’, huh?” Jeremiah bit down on his lip, smacking her ass as he kept a firm grip on her head and continued giving her backshots.

“Ye-yes, yes, yes,” Alana repeatedly moaned.

Jeremiah then felt his phone ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering it as he still fucked her, but he put his hand over her mouth. “Wassup?”

“I’m rey go—iss gettin’ lame in hur,” Dreya told him.

“Aight, I’m almost done,” he told Dreya, hanging up, then fully focusing on getting his nut. “Damn, gurl,” he breathed, feeling the vibrations from Alana moans through his hand.

He felt himself near, giving her a few more strokes until he filled up the condom which led Alana to cumming too. “Damn,” he breathed, pulling out and letting her go. “You defly got a nigga right,” he slapped her ass, cleaning himself up.

“You def got me right,” Alana spoke.

Jeremiah just smiled, “I’m rey head out tho—hit me up?” he asked.

Alana nodded, walking over to him to try and kiss him on the lips, but he turned his head, and it landed on his cheek.

Alana just blinked and took a step back, but she still smiled. “I’ll text you,” she told him, watching as he nodded and left the bathroom.

After taking about fifty photos with supporters, Jeremiah made it outside, heading to his car, seeing Dreya and Lamar passing a blunt back and forth.

He just walked up to them, joining and taking the blunt from Lamar once he was finished. “You done witcha hoe activities?” Lamar teased, making Jeremih and Dreya laugh.

“I kno’ yo bull-daggin’ ass ain’t laughin’,” Jeremiah spat at Dreya, making her crack up.

“Nigga, you can’t call me et—es wrongggg,” Dreya laughed.

“Man, fuck et—es carpet munchin’ bitch was jus’ walkin’ out the bafroom wit a bitch too!” Jeremiah continued. “I’m not hurin’ nun of et,” he dramatically made an X motion with his arms, laughing.

“You so extra,” Dreya shook her head, making Jeremiah wave her off and smack his lip.

He then went to grab his headphones from his car, for he could only handle that much noise in dosages—and, his performance was different because it was his music.

Jeremiah heard his phone ding, thinking it was Alana. He checked it, prepared to be annoyed. He didn’t imagine she would hit him that soon, but he ended up with a smile on his face as he hit the joint, then held it to pass it. He barely was paying attention as he was texting Micah.

My luh Boo

> u eva get them tickets?

fa you n yo side bitch? <

> jeremiah please…

😂😂😂 <

i gotchu fa the tix… wyd?<

“Fuck you smilin’ n textin’?” Dreya asked, looking over his shoulder. “Micah?”

“Damn, niggas can’t jus’ be coo’ n happy?” Jeremiah smacked his lips.

“Y’all niggas gay as fuck,” Lamar chuckled, and Dreya cut her eyes at him, making him raise his hands in defense, and Jeremiah pause in his actions.

“You wish, so I could fuck yo iguana lookin’ ass,” Jeremiah fired back, deflecting from the topic at hand.

He then heard his FaceTime ringtone blared in his hand, seeing that it was also… Micah.

Dreya reached over, answering it. “What the fuck, Drey?” Jeremiah smacked his lips.

“Jeremiah… Andreya?” Micah rolled his eyes when he saw her through the screen. “I know Ian call a mufuckin’ lesbian truck driva,” he roasted her.

Dreya only laughed—everyone else too.

“Aye, et was good, white woman,” she told him before passing the phone back to Jeremiah.

“Whatchu callin’ fa?” Jeremiah asked which made Micah raise a brow and tilt his head to the side.

“You soundin’ like es a prolum,” Micah blinked.

Jeremiah just rolled his eyes, “You know Ian mean it like et. Whatchu want, Micah?”

Micah just sighed, “My fren beggin’ fa these tickets—niggas is really a coo’ rapper I guess fa bitches ta be beggin’ fa tickets,” he shook his head in fake disbelief.

In fact, Micah probably listened to at least one of his songs a day. When he was in the gym when he was doing homework, or when he and his teammates were chilling.

They were all fans, but Micah couldn’t help but be one of his biggest even if it wasn’t known—to either of them.

“Boy, you so cap—Ian neva met a nigga mo’ cap like he don’t be bumpin’ my shit,” Jeremiah teased, unconsciously licking over his lips as he looked at Micah through the phone.

Micah, of course, felt the energy and his face started to turn a light shade of pink. “Anyways—a nigga can hook me up?”

“Aintchu rich?” Lamar butted in.

“Mind yo business, Randall,” Micah spat at Lamar, referring to the time he called him the lizard from Monster’s Inc.

Lamar’s high ass could only cackle at Micah’s joke. “Why we hate es nigga again? He coo,” he whispered after putting his arms around Jeremiah and Dreya.

“I gotchu, Micah,” Jeremiah told him.

“Why don’t he jus’ bring the bitch ta my New Yur’s party—you performin’,” Dreya suggested.

“Can y’all stop callin’ ha a bitch?” Micah smacked his lips.

Dreya blinked, “My bad—bring the hoe ta the party,”

Micah just stared at her, “…I guess…” he hesitantly agreed.

“Yay! Bring Baby Mama, too,” Dreya raised her arms, and Micah shook his head.

“No way. Sometimes I need fun ta myself,” he nodded, and Jeremiah nodded too. “Oh, I also wanted ta ask when you comin’ back ta the dorms?” Micah asked Jeremiah.

“Why?”

“I jus’ wanna get thur fa you cuz you kno’ how goofy my parents can be–n wit es baby, they really trippin’ n want my reputation ta be squeaky mufuckin’ clean. I don’t wanna make it awkward fa me or you like last time,” Micah nodded, referring to when they first moved in.

Jeremiah thought about his answer and shrugged, “Wheneva Coach want us back,” he told him.

“Valid–coo’. Imma move in befa et then,” Micah nodded. “Well, es all I wanted. Have a good night y’all,” Micah waved.

“Aww, da puppy–so schweet,” Lamar trolled.

“Miah, make sure you feed Lamar his insects!” Micah spoke in a teacher’s voice. “It’s a healthy part of lizard’s diet, now!” he roasted back, making Jeremiah, Dreya, and Lamar crack up laughing–Lamar dapping Jeremiah up.

“Aye, et nigga funny as a bitch,” Lamar shook his head.

“Thank you. Thank you. I’m goin’ on tour next yur,” Micah teased. “Aight, fareal. Bye, y’all,” Micah told them, then hung up.

After he hung up, Jeremiah put his phone back in his pocket. “What we rey do?”

“COD at my place?” Dreya suggested.

Jeremiah and Lamar held their hands out to dap her at the same time. “Bet,” they also spoke at the same time.

“Jinx, nigga–you owe me,” Lamar chuckled as he go into his car.

“Whateva,” Jeremiah waved him off as he and Dreyawento into their cars as well.

•••

new year’s day

“AHHHH!” Meilie screamed in Micah’s ear as he parked his car outside of the small building where Dreya was hosting her New Year’s party at.

“Meilie—”

“I’M SEEIN’ WOODY KENT! AHHHHH,” she dramatically screamed.

“You really hafta jus’ ignore the behaviuh, dawlin,” Kari, Meilie’s friend spoke up. “She’s very uncouth,” he chuckled, crossing his legs, for he wore a short skirt.

“Says da bitch dressed like a super ponk-wit et short ass skirt. Who man you tryna fuck on?” Meilie spat back, pointing at him, making him laugh.

Kari just rolled his eyes, waving her off.

“You two ladies done or?” Micah looked between them both from the front seat.

“Whateva you say, daddy,” Kari batted his eyes at Micah. Micah just furrowed his eyes, looking Kari up and down.

He was one of them gay boys that barely liked to wear clothes, and had a body that looked like he was supposed to be a woman, minus the titties–is how Micah would describe it.

Micah just deeply sighed. Bruh… am I really gay? Like what the fuck? This nigga look hella good. The nigga got on a mini-skirt, he thick as shit, this little ass girly top, and the makeup–bruhhh.

“Stop salivatin’ ova Kari n let’s go see my man,” Meilie teased Micah, making him smack his lips while Kari only giggled in the backseat, blushing a bit from Micah’s eyes all over him.

This hoe just say ‘her’ man? Micah thought as he turned off the car. If anything, he’s my… “Nope!” Micah said aloud, exiting his thoughts, waving his finger around.

“Fuck is yo problem?” Meilie chuckled, as she hooked her arms with both Micah and Kari, with her in between the two men that stood above six feet. Well, Kari was six-foot-even, to be precise.

“Nun, less go innes mufucka,” Micah wiped his face off as they entered the building.

It wasn’t a huge venue, but there were a lot of people already in the space. “Damn, Dreya got motion like es?” he looked around, dapping up some people that he knew or who knew him.

“Aye, SPIKE!” a voice yelled. Micah looked over to see it was Lamar heading towards him. “Yeah you, Spikey–you know from Tom n Jerry–a bulldog…” he chuckled, causing Micah to roll his eyes as Lamar cracked up laughing, putting a shot in his free hand.

Lamar then looked at the people next to him, “Well, wassup pretty ladi–Oh…” he paused when he saw Kari.

Lamar tilted his head to the side, looking at Kari from head to toe. “Huh,” he said, continuing to examine him. “Hmm… boy?” he asked.

Kari just chuckled, holding his French-tipped manicured hand out for Lamar to take. “Yes… a boy–dick n balls. My name Kari tho, handsome,” he smiled at Lamar.

Lamar hesitantly took his hand as he continued to just look him up and down. The fuck? He thought, then quickly turned away and left.

“Et was weird…” Meilie chuckled.

“As fuck,” Micah sighed, but he knew he was the last person to call a nigga out for some confusing gay thoughts.

“Aye, my favorite white gurl inna buildin!” Micah then heard Dreya’s voice next, however, this time, behind him stood Jeremiah with… a slight frown on his face…

Micah didn’t even have a comeback this time because he was wondering what Jeremiah was upset about.

“Uh huh, hey Drey–es is my friends Meilie and Kari,” Micah smiled, pointing to each of them.

Meilie’s eyes could only be focused on one person and not the person she came to see, but instead, her eyes were glued onto Dreya. “Hey,” she smiled at her, biting down on her lip–to which Dreya noticed. Then she looked over at Jeremiah, damn near screaming. “WOODY KEEENNT!” she let go of Kari and Micah finally, so she could run up and hug up.

“W-Wassup, shawty…” Jeremiah awkwardly patted her back, looking up at Micah.

He was irritated. Since when do Micah hang around gay niggas… especially ones that look like… this…

Like, is he fucking this nigga? After telling me that… bruh.

This nigga… Pretty as fuck–I’d hit, but I’d also smack the shit outta him too. He not Malia or whatever the fuck, so I won’t go to jail.

“Wassup ta you too, Kari,” Jeremiah nodded at him.

“So everybody get a mufuckin’ greetin’ except me?” Micah folded his arms.

Dreya just made the yikes face, then grabbed Meilie and Kari’s hands, “Y’all two gorgeous people wanna drink or sum? Welcome ta my party n shit,” she spoke as they walked away.

“Wassup, Micah,” Jeremiah nodded toward him, making Micah furrow his brows.

“Da fuck is yo issue?” he asked.

“What makes you thank I got one?” Jeremiah asked, now folding his arms too.

Micah scoffed, “Don’t piss me off, Jeremiah–You know how you actin’ funny, like niggas don’t be all ova me.” he said… then regretted the last part, but Jeremiah had agitated him.

“All ova you, huh?” Jeremiah now bit down on his lip, looking Micah up and down. He’d already had a shot in his system. “You right about et one,” he held up one finger. “I’d be more than et if you let me,” he nodded.

Micah just stood there, speechless. I knew I shouldn’t have said that shit. He mentally cursed himself. “Whateva the fuck you talkin’ about,”

“WASSUP, NIGGA!” Jeremiah felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to see it was James.

“Wassup, James,” he smiled, then looked up to see Micah with a confused look on his face, but then he saw Jordan, Chase, and Taylor sneaking up behind him with a finger over their lips, signaling to Jeremiah to not tell.

“Fa da second time tanight, niggas ain’t rey speak?” Micah waved to James before he was attacked into a group hug by the other three. “What the fuck?” he chuckled, looking around. “Oh, you bitches,” Micah laughed as they let him go.

He then dapped them all up, and Jeremiah did the same. “How you niggas–besides Taylor, know about es? You brought ’em hur, Micah?” Jeremiah asked with a small smile.

Micah made eye contact with Jeremiah, nodding, trying his hardest not to react to his smile. “Hell, yeah–we should fuck you up fa not tellin’ us, Woody Kent,” Chase smacked his lips.

As Micah was about to speak again, James butt in, “Let’s go take a shot–in honor of mufuckin’ WOOODY KEENT!” he cupped his hand, shouting through the building, hearing some cheers.

Of course, Micah followed them in the back, watching James put his hand around Jeremiah’s shoulder, and Jeremiah smiled and laughed at whatever conversion they were having.

He just shook his head, “Nah,” he said low.

Micah knew in his heart that James wasn’t gay–He knew the feeling in his chest at the moment was jealousy, and James’ new closeness with Jeremiah made him jealous.

He just took a breath, nodding and shaking off his thoughts. “Let’s do two rounds–fuck it,” Micah threw an arm over Jordan and Taylor.

“HELL YEAH!” Taylor yelled. “Es what I like ta hur–let’s turn the fuck up!” he put an arm in the air, hearing some claps in agreeance in the background.

•••

A while later, Jeremiah found himself in one of the back rooms with his headphones on, practicing his new song that he was releasing and performing for the first time tonight.

“I miss you,” Jeremiah felt arms wrap around his waist, hearing James’s voice. “I miss yo dick in my throat too.”

“You nasty,” Jeremiah chuckled. “N bold as fuck, like we ain’t hur wit hella niggas.”

“I locked the door behind me,” James turned Jeremiah around. “Why you ain’t hit a nigga up fareal ova break?” he asked, looking up at him. “You been wit Micah tho?”

“Fuck is witchu n es Micah shit—I thought I said leave et alone? You jealous or sum—ain’t et yo fren?” Jeremiah told him. He didn’t want James sticking himself in their business.

He mostly just wanted to protect Micah from anything messy as well as himself from being exposed, but of course, he still wanted to be able to use James’ throat whenever he wanted.

James gave him some of the best head he’s ever gotten.

“Yeah, I hurd you, but it seem like yo mind always on him—”

“You rey piss me off,” Jeremiah cut him off about to walk out of the room, but James grabbed his wrist.

“Wait—Ian tryna piss you off, Jeremiah,” James told him.

“So fuck you keep chattin’ fa?” Jeremiah asked, staring down into his eyes.

James just looked up at him, “Fuck you—you ain’t rey keep talkin’ ta me like Imma bitch, Jeremiah.”

“N I also ain’t rey keep chattin’, so you gon’ put es dick in yo mouf, or we gon’ go enjoy es party?” Jeremiah pointed to the door with his thumb.

•••

“Ooo, mmph—fuck,” Jeremiah moaned out as he held both sides of James’ head, thrusting in and out of his throat at a medium pace. “You treat a nigga dick so right,” he breathed.

James only hummed in response as he only focused on breathing when only the tip of Jeremiah’s dick was in his mouth.

Jeremiah’s eyes rolled back as he felt his dick being hugged by James’ cheeks when he hollowed them out, creating a tighter suction around him. “Fuck, nigga. I’m rey nut,” he breathed, gripping ahold of James’ hair.

He stopped the movements of his hips, allowing James to go back to work–which James didn’t hesitate for one second to do as he gripped the base of Jeremiah’s dick, focusing on half of it.

James then started to quickly bob his head back and forth on Jeremiah’s, moaning a bit when he felt his dick throb in his mouth.

Jeremiah was only silent in pleasure with his head tossed back and his eyes closed shut.

“Shit,” he grunted low as he was about to cum. “You almost got me thur.”

“Fuck is the door locked fa, Miah!” the two jumped when they heard Dreya’s voice.

Jeremiah pushed James off of him accidentally. “My bad,” he whispered to him. “Jus’ stay quiet,” he nodded towards James who nodded back.

Neither of them wanted to be caught.

“Uh–you know how I get, Drey–I be needin’ my moment. Give me a couple minutes,” Jeremiah yelled back through the door.

“Well–hurry up–you rey go on in like thirty, aight?” she yelled.

“I wouldn’t miss it, my lady!” Jeremiah chuckled.

“Fuck you,” Dreya shouted.

“I knew you always wanted to,” Jeremiah trolled, not hearing a comeback, meaning she had walked away.

Jeremiah then turned to James. “Let me go first,” he told him. “It look less sus…” he nodded.

James just looked up at him, sighing and nodding, feeling his chest tighten.

He don’t like me. He thought. But I like him a… lot.

“I hur you–go head,” James pointed towards the door, and Jeremiah patted him on the shoulder before leaving first.

After he was gone, James left the room, heading back into the building, and straight to the mini-bar they had set up.

Once he ordered a couple of shots, he sat down, feeling a hand on his shoulder. “Wassup, nigga,” Micah greeted him, grabbing one of his shots as he sat down.

Just the nigga I didn’t want to see. James thought. But… he’s my friend… and I did like him too.

“Wassup, Micah,” he smiled back, extending his hand out to dap him up.

Micah smiled at James widely, for he knew everything was all in his head. Maybe it was just his jealousy causing him to see things differently.

“How are you? I feel like we ain’t chopped it up inna min–et might be my bad cuz a whole lotta shit been happenin’ ta a nigga,” Micah told him, nodding.

James only was stuck for a moment, remembering why he wanted Micah in the first place. He’s so fucking fine. He couldn’t help but think.

“I-I’m good. I jus’ been chillin’ n shit,” James told him.

“Mhm, I see you n Miah got close–how you become coo’ wit a nigga enemy?” Micah joked, making James’ chest get tight for a bit, but he laughed at the end.

“Mannnn–I can’t lie, da nigga coo’,” James nodded, and Micah nodded.

“Don’t tell him I sed es, but the nigga is coo,” Micah nodded. “I might hafta rethink our beef n shit,” Micah chuckled as he faced forward, eyeing Jeremiah in the crowd, unconsciously biting down on his lip as he watched him interact with the crowd and take pictures.

He did frown when a girl started twerking on him. “I be back,” Micah spat back–irritated. “I haven’t spoke ta my frens I came hur wit in a minute.”

James also felt irritation running through him. He knew the nature of their relationship–it was easy to see, and he hated it.

He had feelings for both of them, although Jeremiah was mostly on his mind at the moment.

Micah headed to find Meilie, on his way, almost spitting out the drink he grabbed from the punch table when he saw Kari and Lamar in a corner, chopping it up… quite closely. Lamar had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at Kari, but respectfully kept his distance.

“They cute, huh?” Meilie got on her tiptoes to whisper in Micah’s ear.

Micah turned around, chuckling “Niggas is kinda cute,” Micah shrugged. “But,” he turned around, putting his hands innocently on Meilie’s waist. “I been lookin’ fa you,” he smiled.

“Have you?” she blinked up at him with a smile, then grabbed his hand, pulling him to the middle of the floor. “Yo baby mama ‘a be mad at a gay bitch dancin’ on you?” she asked.

Micah shrugged, “Why would she be mad if she neva know?” he smiled.

“You ain’t shit,” Meilie chuckled as the music changed, and she turned around, bending over in front of Micah, showing off her thong that peeked from her low-rise stretch pants.

Micah only bit down on his lip, shaking his head as he watched Meilie start to dance on him.

A few minutes later, Meilie had her eyes on someone else in the crowd, “Sorry, I’m gonna go be gay now,” she kissed Micah on the cheek, then waltzed her way over to Dreya who was currently alone.

Micah just laughed, feeling his arm being pulled in a different direction.

He was tired of getting pulled on. “Who da fuck pullin’ on me?” he smacked his lips as he was dragged into the nearby bathroom.

“You fuckin’ et bitch?” Jeremiah asked him with low eyes as he sandwiched Micah between himself and the door. Micah just furrowed his brows. “Or you fuckin’ et otha f*g you brought witchu?” he asked.

“Really, Jeremiah, back the fuck up,” Micah pushed him back a bit.

Jeremiah just smacked his lips, “So niggas fuckin’ f*ggots, but you sed you can’t fuck wit me?” he slightly slurred. He got drunker than intended, but seeing Micah with the other two and being all of them just irritated the hell out of him. Especially, Kari.

“Stop, bruh? Fuck is yo problem? You jealous or sum?” Micah scowled at him.

“I am, I wantchu–you know et, Micah,” Jeremiah told him without thinking.

His drunk mind was definitely speaking his sober thought.

Micah only felt his face heat up. “What?”

“I–” Jeremiah got closer again. “Want–” he put his hands around Micah’s waist, pressing him against the door, making Micah look into his eyes and bite down on his lip as his heartrace increased. “You.”

Jeremiah then tried to go in for a kiss, but this time, Micah turned his face, causing the kiss to land on his cheek.

“Stop,” Micah said low. “I-I’m engaged,” he told Jeremiah, trying his best to resist.

Jeremiah furrowed his brows, then scoffed. He backed off of Micah, “Bet dat,” he nodded. “Excuse me, I gotta performance,” he told Micah, pushing him to the side.

Micah just felt his heart being squeezed as he watched Jeremiah walk past him.

He was speechless.

He thought about grabbing him, pulling him back into the bathroom, and fucking him right there, but he didn’t.

I’m engaged. I have a baby on the way. I gotta do right… I been doing wrong too long…

I can’t be with him as much as I… As much as I want to.

I want you too, Miah.

So bad…

To be continued…

•••

Thoughts on the chapter? Predictions?

Favorite part?

•••

Lmaoo link to me rappin jeremiah song in the comments…

•••

kari jones | meilie’s best friend aka her ‘gayboy twin’