Chapter 10

SAME DAY

“Why the hell do we have ta leave?” Meilie asked as Micah dragged the two through the front door of the building.

The New Year’s party was still ongoing, and Woody Kent was about to perform soon, but all Micah wanted to do was leave, and get away from everything that had to do with him at the moment.

Micah was actually trying his best not to cry.

“Wait…” Jeremiah came back into the bathroom, “You sed you what?” he asked in disbelief. “Engaged?” he asked, looking up into Micah’s eyes.

Micah nodded, “I am… n I gotta child onna way, Jeremiah… You kno’ es ain’t right,” he shook his head.

Jeremiah just sighed, facepalming himself. “Engaged… wit a baby–yeah, okay,” he nodded, then proceeded to leave again, slamming the door behind him.

“We rey miss the performance,” Meilie complained.

“N I wanna talk ta my nigga es not my nigga, but will be my nigga,” Kari spoke delusionally about Lamar, batting his eyelashes.

“Look,” Micah turned around. “Y’all can stay hur, but Imma jus’ wait in my cah. I know how bad you wanna see him, Mei,” he told her, letting them both go.

Meilie softened up when she saw the expression on Micah’s face. It was one where you could tell the person was on the brink of being a waterfall, by the eyes, but the damn had yet to break. She just shook her head. “Nah, less go–whatchu wanna do?” she asked him.

She already knew that Micah’s mood change had something to do with Jeremiah, but she knew that he was stubborn. She would ask him about it when he was more sober… and when they were alone to themselves.

Micah just smiled, “Thank you,” he nodded, feeling his phone ring in his pocket. He answered, “Hello?”

“I-I think something’s wrong with the b-baby,” Micah heard Kelia’s voice, and then she started bursting out crying through the phone which made Micah’s anxiety instantly shoot through the roof.

His concern suddenly shifted to his pregnant girlfriend. “Huh? Somethin’ wrong wit the baby?” he asked.

“Yes, Micah,” Kelia cried. “Please, meet me at the hospital. My parents called an ambulance. I need you right now, Micah,” she told him.

Micah bit down on his lip as fear started to run through his veins. What if something is really wrong with the baby? He thought. What if the baby dies?

Despite his hesitancy of being a father, Micah would be heartbroken if anything had happened to his baby.

“I’m on my way,” he told her. “I love you, bye,” Micah spoke quickly before hanging up the phone.

“Wuss wrong?” Meilie asked him, putting a hand on his arm as she looked up at the taller man in concern.

“We gotta go ta the hospital,” Micah sighed, and the other two nodded. Meilie then got into the driver’s seat–she wasn’t as drunk, but she also wasn’t a stranger to driving a little tipsy.

“Nortons?” she asked.

“U of L,” he answered back, then Meilie put the car in drive and started heading to the hospital.

•••

The three arrived at the hospital about forty to fifty minutes later. They were across town, and Meilie did her best to get them to the hospital as quickly as possible while hoping that nothing was wrong with Kelia or her and Micah’s baby.

“Is a Kelia Monroe hur?” Micah asked after rushing up to the receptionist’s desk.

“One second,” the older woman responded before focusing her attention on the computer, quickly clicking her nails against the keyboard keys as she searched for Micah’s answer.

After a short moment, she turned back to Micah, looking up at him. “Yes–she was just transferred from the emergency unit–she’s up on the third floor–room three-oh-six.”

“Thank you,” Micah told her, then led the other two to the elevator.

Micah was tense as he put his hands in his pockets, hoping not to receive any bad news.

“Everythang gon’ be good, Mikey poo,” Meilie held onto Micah’s arm, standing on her tippy-toes and kissing his cheek.

Micah just smirked and nodded. “You right–thank you, Mei–and thank you too, Kari fa bein’ hur fa a nigga,” Micah smiled at him, causing Kari to put a finger to his chin and blush.

“You fine as fuck, boy,” Kari waved him off, making Micah laugh a bit as the elevator reached the third floor.

Once the doors fully opened, it was like they almost stepped into a horror movie, for the entire mood changed.

“Jus’ stay right hur fa a second,” Micah told Meilie and Kari. They both nodded and sat on the bench outside of Kelia’s room.

He turned the knob, walking inside, seeing Kelia’s eyes open with her mother sitting on the edge of her bed while her father sat in a chair next to the bed with the familiar scowl on his face.

“Baby,” Micah called out to her. “So, is everything okay?” he asked, looking around the room.

“The hell you been?” Kameron stood up from his chair, his frown deepening when he saw Micah–it usually did, but this time, it was worse.

“Daddy, please. Micah was just hanging out,” Kelia looked towards her father with pleading eyes, attempting to reach towards him, but her mother stopped her.

“Rest, girl,” she told her.

Kameron just scoffed. “You was hangin’ out when your fiance is pregnant?” he raised his voice, ignoring his daughter’s pleas, stepping a little closer to Micah who just clenched his jaw and moved his eyes from him to his fiance.

So my life has to stop because she’s pregnant? He thought.

And she’s always at y’alls fucking house! Y’all would never let me stay there after we got back together, so why the fuck is me not being at her hip a fucking issue?

That’s what Micah wanted to say, but none of that left his lips. He remained quiet and kept awkward eye contact with her father, refusing to give in to his anger.

Kelia tried to sit up again, causing her to groan. “You okay, baby?” Micah asked, rushing to her side, by the bed, and Kelia’s mother only deeply sighed.

Micah was genuinely concerned for her and the baby, and so he tried his hardest to ignore the awful, unwelcoming energy he was receiving from her parents.

Micah felt the glares from both of them, but he ignored them. He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and then gently touched her lips. “I’m good—and please, Dad,” Kelia shook her head, facing towards her father. “You’re just going to cause me even more stress, okay?” she told him, then looked back at Micah.

“So what’s wrong?” Micah asked, looking into her eyes.

“I’ve just been a little stressed from school,” Kelia told him. “I’m not trying to fall behind even though I’m pregnant—we’re so close. You know?”

Micah nodded. “I get it, but at the end of the day,” he put his hand on her stomach, rubbing it. “You n the baby health comes first. You get what I’m sayin’?” he spoke in a stern tone.

“No—That’s where you stop talking,” Kelia’s mother, Melia told Micah, pulling his shoulder back. “You won’t encourage my daughter to lack in her studies—Yes, she will lessen her stresses, but school and health come first. Especially when you aren’t guaranteed anything as of yet.”

Micah only felt his entire body shake. He just closed his eyes, refocusing his energy and trying to ignore it.

“Mom, please,” Kelia told her. “He’s just concerned about me, okay?”

“If he was concerned about you, he would have been hur as soon as you arrived!” Kameron stood back up, yelling.

“Anddd, he’d be able to already take care of you–if he had the skill, he’d would’ve went pro like his brother did in his junior year–soon as he was eligible,” her mother added to the blow.

Micah’s night couldn’t get any worse. He felt like his life force was slowly draining every day…

Kelia just sighed as Micah stood up and stared at Kelia, trying to ignore them. “Micah, just go,” she nodded.

“Are you good?” he asked her.

She nodded, “Just go. I’m okay.”

Micah just kept his fist clenched as he walked towards the door, shaking his head. He just felt his eyes burning.

After the situation with Jeremiah, now this, Micah was feeling overwhelmed. His eyes burned as tears threatened to fall from them as he left through the door, quietly and gently closing it shut, taking a deep breath once he was out as he started to sob.

Meilie’s eyes went wide as she looked over to her friend, and they both immediately stood to their feet to wrap their arms around Micah. “Micah… baby…” she rubbed his back as Kari started leading them to the elevator.

Meilie didn’t ask any questions, she and Kari both heard the screams from inside of the room. She kept her fist clenched. Kari even whispered to her asking her to take her mother while Kari fought Kelia’s dad.

“You gon’ be good, boo,” Meilie told him as they continued to console him, watching as the elevator doors shut close as they proceeded to the ground floor.

“I’ll drive again, okay?” Meilie told Micah, and he nodded, getting into the passenger’s seat, tossing Meilie the keys once she was inside. “You wanna go home, or you wanna stay wit me n Kari tanight?” she asked as she put the car into drive and pulled off.

“Yeah,” Micah said in an exasperated tone. “Yeah. I-Ion wanna go home tanight,” he sniffled a bit as he laid his head against the window.

•••

“I’m engaged.”

“I’m engaged.”

“I’m engaged.”

Jeremiah kept hearing Micah repeat the words over and over again in his mind. His chest felt tight, and it was almost hard to breathe.

“Why do I feel like es?” he asked himself, grabbing his chest.

He felt like he almost wanted to cry. Jeremiah never felt like that before over someone being in a relationship. He never felt like this before period.

Why did Micah’s words hurt so much to him? He couldn’t figure out the foreign feeling.

“Jeremiah, you good?” Lamar grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him a bit. “Wuss wrong?”

Jeremiah clenched his jaw, “Ion wanna perform no more,” he shook his head, looking up at Lamar.

“Huh?” he asked. “Why? What’s wrong, Jeremiah?” Lamar asked again.

“I jus’ wanna go the fuck home,” Jeremih balled his fist up at his sides, shaking a bit.

Lamar just sighed and nodded, “Okay, Imma tell Drey, n Imma drive you home, aight?” he told Jeremiah, and Jeremiah quickly nodded, leaving the building through the back door.

It wasn’t that he was mad at Micah. He was jealous, sure—He was just overwhelmed. His feelings were all over the place, and he couldn’t understand any of them.

They were foreign and took over his mind.

He hurried to get into his car, putting on his headphones and listening to music on full blast to calm his mind.

Lamar came out soon with Dreya by his side, “Miah!” she opened up the side of his door which made him jump a bit, but then he looked up at Dreya. “You okay?”

Jeremiah nodded, “I jus’ needa go home.”

Dreya sighed, looking down at her friend, but she knew he would eventually confide in her.

He genuinely didn’t understand what the issue was himself. He needed time to allow his brain to process. “Okay,” Dreya nodded, holding her arms out.

Jeremiah smiled, standing up and squeezing her tight, “I’m sorry—I ruined yo party,” he apologized as he held onto her shoulders, looking down at her.

“You didn’t ruin a damn thang, aight. I’a throw anotha one specifically fa yo new song, deal?” Dreya held out her hand to dap him up.

“Thank you, Drey. I luh you,” Jeremiah told her.

“Bye, Drey—I’a be back later,” Lamar told her, dapping her up before going to the driver’s side of Jeremiah’s car. The two then pulled off, and that concluded the first day of the new year…

•••

early january, 2020

THE SECOND SEMESTER STARTS…

HOMECOMING SEASON RESUMES…

It was return day for the athletes. The official day that Coach had required the basketball team to be back on campus and in their dorms.

Jeremiah had been avoiding this day as long as he could.

It was later in the day—almost night. The LU basketball team had practice in the morning, and many of them were having late-night practice to impress Coach in the morning.

Besides, Homecoming was coming up, and they needed to be at their best.

Jeremiah and Micah also had their one V one—then the one with Michael Jr…

Micah had been practicing his ass off the past week and a half.

Needless to say, the upcoming weeks were going to be very stressful.

Jeremiah stood at the door of his dorm room, staring at the numbers next to it. He sighed, shaking his head.

He took out his keys from his pocket, unlocking his door. It was a bit dark in the entire dorm, and there was a subtle smell of… steak in the air.

Micah must’ve cooked. Jeremiah thought as he looked around, seeing their space looking pretty much the same as the last time he was there.

“He must not be hur,” Jeremiah sighed to himself, flicking on a couple of lights. “Good.”

“Damn, niggas don’t wanna see me et bad?” Micah gave a low and saddened chuckle after exiting his room, overhearing Jeremiah’s words which only made his heart hurt.

Jeremiah only clenched his jaw, sighing and facepalming himself. Fuck. He mentally cursed himself for saying that out loud.

If anything, all he wanted was to see Micah—but seeing him made his brain confused and his heart hurt.

“Nah, I do,” Jeremiah shook his head. “But iss no point inta gettin’ innet convasation,” he told him, walking past him and heading into his room, closing the door behind him.

Micah just stood there, watching with a melancholic heart, but a blank expression.

It’s better this way…

•••

later that day

“Welcome back, fellas!” Coach smiled at all his athletes, walking back and forth in a line as the boys stood up by the bleachers in their practice gear. “New semester! Homecomin’ ’round the corner hur! We gotta lot of things comin’, n I need y’all ta be the best—as usual. AM I UNDERSTOOD?”

“YES, COACH!” the team shouted in unison.

“Alright!” Coach damn near growled in anticipation. “Let’s start wit some laps–let’s head upstairs ta the otha gym,” he clapped his hands and the team started scurrying.

They ran upstairs with Jeremiah and Micah taking the lead on the indoor track as usual. They were the fastest.

This time, unlike the other recent times, there was a bit of tension between them, unlike any other time.

With this time, the energy felt somber and a bit resentful.

Nothing playful about the way they acted toward each other.

“Micah, you lookin’ slow!” James teased as he caught up to him, getting a genuine laugh from Micah as he looked over to him, of course, accidentally bumping into the side of Jeremiah.

“Focus on whatchu doin’, please,” Jeremiah told him quietly, moving him over as they got ran around while they regrouped to get back on track with all the other players.

Micah felt another small stab in his heart, hearing the tone that Jeremiah spoke to him in. It was much more cold and uncaring than before.

He knew that they couldn’t be together, but does that mean that Jeremiah had to treat him coldly? But he wouldn’t express that. Ian no bitch. He thought to himself.

“My bad, bruh–relax,” Micah gave him a small chuckle, turning to face the track. He just heard Jeremiah give a dry and unhumored chuckle behind him which only made him frown more, also seeing James approach him to check on them.

“Y’all coo’?” he asked, “C’mon–whatchu two niggas lolly gaggin’ fa? We got Homecomin’,” James told them, both with a bit of jealousy and genuinely wanting to win Homecoming.

It was possible he could be drafted too, and he wanted that win–hell, all of them did. It was their senior year, and they had to make it count, or… nothing.

Basketball was the end for some of the boys.

“Yeah, let’s get back–we don’t got any time ta spur,” Micah told James, patting him on his back.

The two then started jogging again to catch up with Jeremiah going a bit slower behind them. James looked back at Jeremiah, seeing a blank and cold expression; Jeremiah just looked between the two, his eyes mostly focused on Micah and the small, strange interaction they had just now.

Why is it like this? He thought to himself. He was starting to regret the day that they crossed the boundaries that they could never come back from.

It was much simpler then.

After Coach made the team run laps for about thirty minutes, they all took a much-needed water break with the athletic assistants passing out bottles while they sat on the chairs located around the school’s gym. “Thank you,” Jeremiah greeted one of the assistants.

Taylor came and sat down next to him. “How are you, Miah? How was ya break?” he asked, holding his hand out for Jeremiah to dap him up.

Jeremiah looked over at him, “It was coo’,” he nodded and smiled. “I had fun, until–” he paused, quickly moving his eyes towards Micah’s direction, then back to Taylor.

Taylor raised a brow, “Micah?” he asked, folding his arms. “Fuck is up witchall, anyways–I feel like you niggas been actin’ weird all yur. One moment, y’all coo’ as fuck—damn nur besties, which made a nigga feel a luh way, but y’all roommates. But then, it’s like y’all can’t stand ta be around each other,” Taylor explained.

With his knee bouncing up and down, Jeremiah thought about whether he wanted to ignore his question or not, but Taylor wasn’t the person he was frustrated with, so he took a deep breath and talked to his friend. “Ion know ta be honest, Tay–iss hella wurd, and I kinda don’t wanna explain nun of it at the moment. It’s not cuz Ion fuck witchu, it’s jus’ cuz… I–Ion even know how to–to even explain it. Ion understand the situation myself,” Jeremiah told him.

“Iss deep like et?” Taylor asked with a confused expression.

Jeremiah sighed, “Unfortunately,” he nodded.

“Y’all gon’ be coo’?”

Jeremiah nodded, “At the end of the day, I always got nothin’ but love and respect for Micah–shit jus’ tense as hell right now.”

Taylor smiled, putting an arm around Jeremiah, “Well… es all I needed ta hur.”

Chuckling Jeremiah put an arm back around him, “Sweaty ass nigga,” he chuckled. “But, how you been?” he asked him, “How was yo break?”

The two then proceeded to have a conversation as Micah stood across the room, watching them unconsciously. “Well, you might as well suck his dick too, Tay,” Micah smacked his lips under his breath as he saw them with their arms around each other.

•••

Practice proceeded, then ended with a couple of games of five versus five, just to warm them back up from being on winter break.

Jeremiah booked a late-night studio session. He didn’t want to waste time going back to his dorms, so he decided to shower in the locker room.

He grabbed his items, stripping himself down to his towel and shower shoes as some of the other players did the same, but most of them left for the night.

For a moment, he sat on the bench, scrolling through social media, checking a post from his Twitter of a video of him rapping his song Woody Freestyle from Christmas break.

He scrolled through the comments, seeing mostly positive, but then seeing a thread of negative ones. “He actin’ like he tough when he just a lil college boy.” he read to himself aloud.

Jeremiah just scoffed to himself, “You niggas wouldn’t know a thing,” he laughed, thinking about how just instead of in college, right now, he could be in jail or dead from gangbanging.

He was closely affiliated from his upbringing, as well as living in foster care, and being in the streets a bit which even caused a bit of problems the first few years his father was raising him, after he was released from prison.

But Jeremiah was always good at basketball and rapping. It eventually led him to leave that life for good, and he never got the opportunity to be stuck in a gang, doing their bidding, risking his life, selling drugs, or in jail.

He doesn’t judge the lifestyle though–he was almost there.

“Anyways,” Jeremiah chuckled and sighed as he stood up again. “My bad–” he bumped into someone, seeing that it was Micah. “You doin’ es shit on purpose now?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He knew Micah could be petty, and he really wasn’t in the mood.

“Nigga, my locker right thur,” Micah rolled his eyes, pointing to the locker directly behind him.

“Oh, my bad,” Jeremiah chuckled a bit, moving out of the way, seeing Micah’s face a bit red as he tried his best to keep his eyes off of Jeremiah’s half-naked body.

“Yeah, yo bad,” Micah smacked his lips.

Jeremiah scoffed, “Fuck is yo issue wit me?” he grabbed Micah’s wrist.

“You da issue, nigga–now, leave me be,” Micah told him, and Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to say something back, but he didn’t.

“Okay,” he told him, turning around, then headed into the shower to quickly clean himself.

After he was done, Jeremiah left without speaking to anyone–he was irritated.

Everyone peeped at his behavior by now, so they were shocked.

Jeremiah got into his car, putting the directions of Taylor Made Music Shop into his phone, and starting up his car.

As he searched through his phone, his phone rang. He quickly answered it, “Wassup?”

“Jeremiah. It’s me. I’m out,”

Jeremiah stood completely still as if there was a gun pointed at the back of his head.

He didn’t breathe, he didn’t speak, he didn’t utter a word.

His foster father was on the phone, and this was his second time contacting him since he’s gotten out of jail. He must have a motive.

Jeremiah knew his intentions were no good, but even with all the anger that surged through him, he only remained in the little boy state the man put him in.

He only had memories of being a boy, standing completely still like he was now, being yelled at, preparing himself mentally to be hit.

Without saying anything, Jeremiah just hung up the phone, releasing the long breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding.

His phone rang again. “Stop,” he whispered, shaking his head. He hung it up, but he called again.

Jeremiah hung up, hearing his phone ring again, “Stop.”

He hung up… it rang again. “STOP! FUCKIN’! CALLIN’! ME!” he screamed through the phone, feeling his heart speed up quickly as he hung up.

It rang again, and Jeremiah just quickly exited opened his car door, stepped out of it for a second, and launched his phone across the parking lot.

He got back inside, putting on his headphones and squeezing the wheel too tightly as his eyes burned and he let out a scream in pain. “I wanna kill et nigga, on god,” he shook his head, huffing.

Jeremiah squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to calm himself down. Remembering what he learned in therapy.

He held onto the wheel, letting his tears fall as he took repeated deep breaths.

Once his heart was beating a bit regularly, he looked back up.

Jeremiah started up his car and started heading downtown, not even knowing where he was going, for he broke his phone, so he didn’t have a GPS.

After searching through Downtown Louisville, he finally found the studio–although, he was forty-five minutes late.

“Sorry, Mr Malik. I’m late fa my session, can I extend it?” he asked once he made it to the front desk.

Malik just looked up at him, raising a brow. “Fuck wrong witchu?” he asked, pointing to his eyes.

Jeremiah just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

Sighing, Malik disregarded his question, “Jus’ come on–yes, you can extend yo session, on the house fa the young emo nigga,” he chuckled, making Jeremiah smirk a bit.

Once the two made it into the studio, Malik sat the the engineer’s table, facing Jeremiah who first sat on the couch. “Imma show you some beats I been workin’ on, see which one you like,” he told Jeremiah who just nodded. “And aye,” he pointed to him. “Ion know wuss goin’ on, but… channel et energy inta es song–whateva energy it is. You feel me, Jeremiah?” he asked, looking into his eyes sternly.

Jeremiah nodded. “I hur you,” he spoke. He looked up to Malik as a musician, and Malik always gave him good advice.

The two then looked through a few beats with Jeremiah picking out a couple.

He went into the booth for the first one, and Malik started clowning him from the lyrics he recited from his phone. It was an old song he wrote. “Nah.”

Malik stopped the music, pressing the button, so Jeremiah could hear him through the microphone. “I can’t lie–es is a luh lame. You make way betta shit than es. You not listenin’ ta what I’m tellin’ you, Jeremiah,” Malik told him, and Jeremiah just sighed, feeling a bit down. “Don’t frown, nigga. Perk up! I’m hur ta help, aight–now tell me, how the fuck you feelin’?”

Jeremiah stayed silent for a second, then all the things from the past couple of weeks started flowing into his mind. “I’m mad.”

“How mad?”

“As fuck!” Jeremiah spoke into the microphone.

“Good–Now, what’s sum that made you mad?” Malik asked.

Jeremiah sighed. He didn’t really want to be all emotional on a track about his foster father… or Micah… but he did remember that tweet threat of people hating on him earlier.

It reminded him of all the haters he collected on the way of being successful. Especially, ones from his old hood.

“Well, a hatin’ ass nigga try n say I’m jus’ a ball playa, like Ian grew dirtier than most of these cappin’ ass nigga. I jus’ chose betta, but sometimes, I be wantin’ ta be old Jeremiah and beat the shit outta niggas,” he rambled.

Malik just smirked. He didn’t say anything else as he chose a whole other beat he created. It was a Chicago drill-inspired beat, that had a lot of bass, and plenty of seconds for Jeremiah to talk his shit.

“Well… tell ’em bitches youn jus’ play ball,” Malik told him, then put on the beat.

Jeremiah smiled, slowly nodding his head. He listened to it for a second, “Aight, start it ova fa me,” he chuckled. “I’m rey freestyle in es mufucka–since niggas don’t thank I can rap fareal, fareal.”

“Okay, do yo shit, Big Woody!” Malik shouted, then restarted the beat over.

“Niggas keep askin’ me if I rap rap… Well, lemme show ’em…

Yeah. Yeah

Iss Woody!

(N don’t forget da mufuckin’ Kent neitha…)” he did his intro, crossing his arms as he bobbed his head to the beat.

“Bitch Ion just play ball—

I make calls.

Leave a nigga dead in a ditch.

He took a great fall.” he rapped to the beat, and Malik just stood up, dancing around the room as Jeremiah rapped.

“Take a nigga soul wit my pistol,

turned him to a doll.

Now I’m onna road, wit my bro,

bitch, I risked it all.

Bitch, I did it all

Woody Kent so criminal.

Smooth Criminal.” he referenced Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal.

“Ion do subliminals.” Jeremiah waved his hand around, shaking his head, and taking a breath before he continued, switching to a different flow.

“But you do.

Nigga talking shit,

he disappeared like some voodoo.

Like some hoodoo.

I used ta pop a xan fa-I-went-to-schoo’.

Nigga talking shit but ain’t got bands like-I-do.

Accidentally sneezed onna pussy

I said a-choo.

A-choo.

I was cold from the ice on my molar.

Slit a nigga throat his body split like he bipolar.

She tryna play me like Imma console controller.

Bitch, I’m crazy—I’ll kill you n say I did it your honor…” he freestyled.

“Oh…” Malik said at his last line. “Uhhh…”

Jeremiah just laughed in the booth.

“Too much?

Oh well, anyways–

Iss Woody mufuckin’ Kent annnnnd…” he stopped. “Then run the chorus back, you feel me?” he spoke in his regular voice, and Malik only smiled as he came into the booth, dapping Jeremiah up aggressively.

“Aye, boy–es a hit! You need ta drop et bitch immediately!” Malik told him.

Jeremiah looked down at him. “You think so? Lemme hur it first,” he chuckled, taking off his headphones.

“Nigga, when have I eva steered you wrong?” Malik told him, plopping down into the chair before playing a rough, unmixed version of what Jeremiah just recorded.

Smiling, Jeremiah shrugged. “Okay—let’s drop et bitch,” he nodded.

•••

After leaving the studio, Jeremiah drove back to his dorm—without a phone.

He forgot all about that to be honest. “Fuck, Dreya rey cuss me out,” Jeremiah smacked his lips as he pulled into his driveway.

Jeremiah turned his car off, heading up to his dorm.

Once he made it, he frowned, confused as to why he was hearing multiple voices. Maybe Kelia is here. He thought.

He took out his keys, about to open the door, “Whur da fuck you been at?”

Jeremiah whipped his head, seeing Micah walking down the hallway with visibly wet eyes. “Got mufuckas in my shit, hollin’ ’bout you-you fuckin’ went missin’ n shit, you not answerin’, n somethin’ is wrong.”

He pushed past Jeremiah, stepping in front of him, and Jeremiah didn’t budge, causing Micah to be slightly pressed against the door as he pulled out his keys. “Why you cryin’ tho?” Jeremiah asked in his ear.

“You know why, Jeremiah. You not stupid,” Micah told him, plus, the fact that Jeremiah has been on edge for a while now. “But es ain’t bout et right now–answa ta yo family why you been M.I.A. fa hours.”

Micah then opened the door, seeing Dreya, Lamar, and Jeremy sitting on their couch. Micah then walked in fully, placing the bag of drinks and snacks on the table.

He actually waited until he went to go get the drinks to shed a couple of tears in fear of Jeremiah’s whereabouts… and hoping he was okay and that their last interaction didn’t have to be the way that it was.

We better than that. That’s what Micah thought.

“Whur da fuck you been et?” Dreya asked.

“Son–” Jeremy stood up.

“Since when niggas don’t answer they fuckin’ phone?” Lamar got close to Jeremiah, pulling him inside. “Huh? You not no stupid nigga, Miah.”

“I know I’m not stupid, bitch–back up,” Jeremiah smacked his lips. “You dumbass niggas besides my daddy eva thought a nigga just… lost his phone. I undastand y’all worried–I did some shit inna past that may have been worryin’, but I’m also a grown ass man. A six-foot-four, man. Ian get kidnapped.” Jeremiah chuckled.

Jeremy just started laughing, “You right son–we was tweakin’,” he ran up to him, pulling him into a hug.

“Golly–it’s been not even a full day, parents,” Jeremiah scowled at Lamar and Dreya.

“Mannnn, I was rey beat Micah ass jus’ because,” Lamar shook his head, plopping on the couch.

“Who you was rey beat?” Micah raised the volume of his voice, bending down to get in Lamar’s face.

Lamar just laughed, mushing Micah’s face, and then the two started wrestling around the living room.

Jeremiah just sighed, “You can go home now, Daddy,” he told his father. “You want me ta drive you home?” he asked.

Jeremiah shook his head, “Nah, son. I’m drivin’ my new Lexus,” he cackled, pulling Jeremiah in for another hug. He then kissed his cheek. “Okay, Imma leave y’all youngins to it.”

Jeremy then gave everyone a hug, then left the dorm. “Well, I guess I should head out too since you good–fuck was you doin’?” Dreya asked Jeremiah as the other two finally stopped fighting and Micah grabbed them both bottles of water.

Jeremiah just whipped out his phone. He pulled up Apple Music and then put the three in a group chat, sending them a link to the song he just recorded. “This whur I was at,” he smiled. “Nigga is rey be Weezy,”

•••

a few days later

“How I look?” Jeremiah asked Taylor and Jordan as they gathered in Jordan’s dorm, preparing for the ‘gala’ tonight.

It was an annual event for the basketball players. This was one of the most important events of the year. There were sponsors, recruiters, and more opportunities for them, and it was up to them to seize the moment.

“Shid, a nigga lookin’ Al Green sharp, my dawg,” Taylor dapped Jeremiah up, making him laugh.

“Aye—we all look good—shit, why we single?” Jordan put his hands around both Jeremiah and Taylor as the three of them looked into the mirror with their suits on.

Jeremiah pulled out his new phone, snapping a couple of pictures of the three, tagging them on Instagram stories.

Once they were ready, they headed out of the dorms, all three of them piling into Jordan’s car, to head towards the venue.

“A nigga gotta put on my new favorite song,” Jordan chuckled, turning up the volume, blasting Jeremiah’s new song that as soon as he posted a snippet on TikTok and Instagram, he started going viral.

“BITCH! ION JUS’ PLAY BALL!” Jordan and Taylor yelled, and Jordan turned the volume all the way up, with the bass booming through the car.

“I MAKE CALLS! LEAVE A NIGGA DEAD INNA DITCH,” Taylor repeated, then looked to Jordan.

“HE TOOK A GREAT FALL!” Jordan chuckled, daping Taylor up a few times as Jeremiah was in the background recording them with a big smile on his face.

He then turned the camera towards him, showing off his new lineup with his freshly retwisted locs. “Aye,” he reached through the front seats, turning down the music, so he could talk. “Iss Woody mufuckin’ Kent,” he spoke in the camera, smiling wide so he could show off the diamond grills he bought himself, then flexing the iced-out watch he wore. “As you can see, niggas is lovin’ the freestyle–keep runnin’ it up on all streamin’ platforms, n help me name the song!” he told his followers. “And, turn in ta the one V one es weekend wit me n Micah. If I win–shit, when I win, I’m hostin’ a free concert, gettin’ some funds ta donate ta the local city shelta! You can donate when you walk through the door–or jus’ come out ta see the W double O, D, Y,” he finished, putting his phone away, turning the song back on full blast, and yelling it aloud with his friends as they made their way to the gala.

Once they arrived, they parked in the reserved parking garage, grabbing a ticket on their way inside.

The gala was to begin at 8 PM.

Micah was already inside the building. He had just walked inside with Kelia by his side with her hand gently on her stomach. She was a little over five months and starting to really show.

The two had decided–well, their parents mostly, had decided that tonight was the perfect night to announce their engagement.

Michael Sr suggested that he do it then. It would look good in front of the sponsors and recruiters.

They don’t just look for skill, but appearance too.

“Stay away from that roommate of yours tonight. You don’t need to see each other until the match,” Michael Sr stated as he fixed his son’s tie before he headed out of the door.

Micah just rolled his eyes, grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the servers that walked around. “You hungry, Lia?” he asked as she clinged onto his arm.

Kelia looked up at him and shook her head, “Not at the moment. “But I do want to sit the hell down,” she told him a bit winded.

Chuckling, Micah nodded as he sipped from his glasses, guiding her to the room with the tables set up and a small stage, decorated for the event.

All the tables had name cards, so Micah searched for the table with his name on it.

Once he found it, he looked at the seat next to him, stating that it was reserved for Micah’s guest.

Everyone was permitted one guest.

“Okay, baby, sit down,” he pulled out the chair for Kelia, then helped her sit down.

“Thank you, baby,” she smiled at him.

“You welcome, n I know you hungry. Imma search fa some food, n greet a couple of niggas, you coo’?” Micah told her, bending down to quickly peck her lips.

Kelia just smiled, nodding. “Yes. I got my phone. I’ll scroll TikTok or FaceTime Alana,” she told him. “Go ahead, baby,” she shooed him away.

“Aight,” Micah nodded, turning around, but first, he glanced at the other names, getting a peek at one. “James,” he smiled, happy that one of his good friends was next to him.

Before he could see the other name, he was approached by a recruiter that he already knew. It was the same one that recruited his brother five years ago. “Micah Parks!’ the man by the name of Arnold greeted him. “And hello to you too, Miss Kelia if I’m correct?” he reached his hand out to her.

She nodded, “You are,” she chuckled, shaking his hand.

Arnold laughed, “Nice to meet you again, beautiful, and congratulations to you two on the bun in the oven.”

“Thank you,” Micah and Kelia spoke at the same time.

“Well, I’m gonna steal your boyfriend here for a second,” Arnold told her in jest.

Kelia only laughed, “Keep ’em!” she joked, causing Micah to crack a smile.

Time like this is where I don’t mind our little life…

“Aight, I be back soon, baby,” Micah told her finally before being led away.

“So, let’s talk,” Arnold told him. “I heard about that match you have with Kentwood this weekend. That’s pretty big–it’s been making its way to the public. You two are a hell of a duo,” he told Micah.

I can’t get rid of this nigga if I tried… Micah thought, shaking his head.

“Yeah–I feel like it’s gonna be good,” Micah nodded.

“Mhm–I’ll tell you this Micah–win that match. Homecoming is important, but win that match, then at least get close to beating your brother–just the new that the Parks brothers are having a head-to-head is enough to get you recruited, but if you win…” Arnold told him.

Micah just nodded at everything he said as he led them to the table full of food. “I hur all of et. I been trainin’ hella hard.”

“Yeah… you could be bigger than your brother, Micah, but that Kentwood–he’s good, n he’s organic… you don’t have that advantage. We are in a time where his authenticity–you know he didn’t come from a family like you. It looks good,” Arnold nodded.

Of course, I was told that Jeremiah is better than me still.

Nothing new…

“I would pick him over you as of now. I feel like I got the best Parks player… but you beat him,” Arnold pointed towards Jeremiah who had just walked into the room with Alana on his hip.

She waved across the room to Kelia who saw her and waved back.

Micah’s attention was almost completely shifted from Arnold when he saw him. “Then what?” Micah asked.

“Then you’re the star that you’ve always dreamed of being. Then you proven to your father that you belong,” Arnold patted Micah on his shoulder and then walked away, so he could talk to Jeremiah.

Micah was stuck for a second. He wanted to process the rest of Arnold’s words, but all he could do was stare at the way Alana clung to Jeremiah.

She smiled wide as day, and Micah knew that look.

He fucked that thirsty ass bitch. Micah thought, feeling his chest become tight.

Micah just turned around to face the dinner table, grabbing a glass of champagne, downing it, then grabbing a couple of plates for him and his fiance.

After fixing their plates and grabbing himself another glass of champagne, Micah did his best to balance and manage everything as he walked back to their table.

He only frowned as he approached it, seeing Alana right next to Kelia and next to her… Jeremiah.

Of fucking course. Of course, he’d be placed here, and why wouldn’t he bring the thot that he’s been fucking. Micah thought.

I feel like Coach be trolling. Jeremiah thought as he watched Kelia help Micah set down everything. Micah then sat down, sliding Kelia her plate, and then focusing on his.

“Damn, niggas can’t get hellos?” James spoke up, looking at Micah and Jeremiah.

“My bad, my nigga,” Micah stood up, reaching across the table to dap James up. “Wassup ta everybody,” he gave a general greeting, avoiding making direct eye contact or speech with Jeremiah.

“Wassup, James,” Jeremiah smiled at him. He was the only person at the table without a guest. Jeremiah felt a bit bad. “As everyone probably already know, this is Alana,” he introduced her. “My date fa the night.”

Micah couldn’t help but let out an unintentional chuckle,

“Wuss funny?” Jeremiah asked.

“Nothin’—nice ta see you again, Alana,” Micah greeted her, smiling at her, causing her to blush a bit.

She did it every time she saw Micah.

Across from him, Jeremiah almost felt the urge to flip the table.

I see where we stand for real. He thought, thinking how everyone at the table had gotten a greeting except for him.

James sat in the middle of the two sides of the table. This was very awkward for him. Especially, since he knew their relationship went deeper than the surface. He didn’t know how deep—he hoped not too deep though.

He didn’t know what to do or say besides staying out of it.

It didn’t erase the memories he had.

“I be back,” Jeremiah scoffed with a chuckle, then stood up, almost instantly being grabbed up by a sponsor this time who put a water bottle in his face.

“The hell is wrong with you two, again?” Keia scoffed. “This has been going on since we were in middle school. When are you two going to grow up?” she scolded Micah.

James just shook his head. Clueless ass girl. I feel for her a bit.

“Sooo, why you ain’t come with a date?” Alana asked him with a slight lustful grin.

“Well,” James started, feeling his phone vibrate. “One second,” he told her, pulling out his phone.

Jeremiah 😑

> i need a nut wby?

James chewed the inside of his mouth, for a second thinking on if he should go or not… but he never made it seem like he would give me a nut back…

That made him think that maybe Jeremiah was starting to develop something for him.

where u @ <

Once Jeremiah told him he was in the nearest single-person bathroom, James put away his phone. “My bad, shawty–we’a talk in a minute. I be back also…” James announced to the table as he stood up.

Micah raised a brow, “Whur you goin’?”

“Ta da bathroom,” James smirked, then turned around and left.

The fuck was that? Micah asked himself.

“Lana–catch me up, girl,” Kelia turned to her friend. “How did you and Jeremiah start fucking around?” she giggled, making Alana giggle, and Micah only felt his irritation go up.

“Gurl… we just exchanged numbers at a party, n kinda hit it off from there. And girl…” Alana attempted to whisper. “The sex–”

“Aye,” Micah stood up quickly. “Imma letchall have y’alls girl talk n shit. Imma find some of the boys,” he put on his best fake smile, although jealousy and anger surged through him.

Micah stormed off a bit. He grabbed his chest, feeling his eyes slightly burn, but he wouldn’t break. Not now. Not here. “Nah. Fuck him n et thirsty ass bitch,” he spoke to himself.

He then felt a pair of hands on him as he walked through the halls, “Micah–just the man we were looking for,” an Asian man approached him. He had two full sleeves, and he then held his hand out for Micah to take. “Hello, my name is Andrew–I run a local tattoo shop here in Louisville, and I was wondering if I could tattoo you for free. I see you have a lot already, and if you could just help promote our work a bit. Especially, since I also have artists that are pros on working on darker skin tones which I think sets me apart from most of these…” he got closer as he did his pitch to Micah. “White washed,” he whispered with a chuckle. “…shops,” he finished.

Micah didn’t think much about it. His mind was elsewhere. “Okay–bet,” he quickly agreed, shaking Andrew’s hand. “DM me on IG,” he told him, then continued to proceed through.

Close by in the single-person bathroom, James had just been pulled through the door, with it being closed shut behind him.

He got pressed against the door by Jeremiah who looked at him with hungry eyes. James was caught off guard when Jeremiah quickly kissed him, “We gotta be quick, aight?” he told him, and James nodded.

Jeremiah then unbuckled his pants, “Take yo shit off,” he told him.

“Okay,” James nodded, suddenly feeling shy. Jeremiah bit his lip, noticing his shyness. He thought it was a bit cute—and it kind of reminded him of someone else.

James unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. “Turn around,” Jeremiah instructed him, and James did as told. “Lean against the wall, and arch it fa me—jus’ a luh,” he finished his words with a hard smack and grab to James’ ass, causing him to jump and let out an unintentional pant.

“You rey fuck me?” James asked, raising a brow. “While yo hoe out thur too?” he said pettily.

A very amused chuckle left Jeremiah’s lips as he smacked James’ ass even harder. “The jealous shit get my dick even harda by the way,” he said in James’ ear, putting his hand down his briefs, taking hold of his dick, beginning to slowly stroke it. Well, except for one person you be jealous over. That pisses me off actually.

“Shit,” James groaned low, moving his hips back onto Jeremiah.

“You wanna fuck real bad, huh?” Jeremiah asked, pulling his dick out, then grabbing the waistband of Jame’s briefs from behind, pulling them down to expose his ass.

“I mean… Ian rey decline,” James told him, biting down on his lip.

Jeremiah smirked, “I’ll give it ta you soon,” he kissed James’ shoulder, then pulled back to grab and spread open Jame’s ass, spitting on it.

He grabbed his dick, rubbing the tip along his hole while he stroked them both. “Fuck, Jeremiah,” James moaned, thrusting a bit into his hand.

“Ian like no otha nigga you mighta been wit neitha,” Jeremiah told him in his ear, letting his dick go to push James’ legs together.

He then let his saliva fall from his lips to his dick as he shoved it between James’ cheeks, making sure to rub over his hole before pushing his dick through.

Jeremiah then put his hands on James’ hips. Slowly thrusting his dick between his tightly squeezed thighs and up against his dick too.

James just continued to stroke himself, feeling pleasure each time Jeremiah slid his tip against his hole up to his balls. That whole area was an erogenous zone for him. “Fuck, nigga,” he moaned as Jeremiah let go of his hips, wrapping an arm around James’s neck, then taking hold of his dick.

“Don’t move your legs at all—you got that?” Jeremiah whispered in his ear, and James just nodded, crossing his feet, so his legs could be squeezed even tighter.

Jeremiah then let his saliva fall once more before he started slowly thrusting between James’ legs, slowly speeding up his pace while also pumping James’ at

the same time. “Fuck, your hand n yo dick feel good on me,” James told him, and Jeremiah just smirked.

“My dick gon feel betta in you,” Jeremiah told him, increasing the pace of his hand and thrusts.

“I bet,” James groaned out, feeling close. He hadn’t been touched like this in a while, plus, he was very surprised that Jeremiah also wanted to please him. “I’m close as fuck,” he panted which made Jeremiah speed up the pace of his hand while he only continued to thrust between James’ highs at a medium pace.

Jeremiah only bit down on his lip, letting go of James’ neck to smack his ass, bringing James closer to his orgasm. “Smack et shit again,” he told him, and Jeremiah only followed his instructions this time, focusing his hand on James’ tip, curling it around.

James felt his dick continuously throbbing. His tip started to ooze, for he couldn’t control his nut, and he came all over Jeremiah’s hand.

He breathed deeply as he came down from his orgasm. James turned around, grabbing Jeremiah’s hand, and bringing it to his mouth as he looked Jeremiah into the eyes while he licked and sucked his cum off of his hand.

A big smile just rested on Jeremiah’s face. “Freaky ass nigga,” he nodded, watching James get down on his knees. “Mm, you gon take cur of et fa me? He asked, grabbing both sides of James’ head, looking at him closing his eyes, and sticking his tongue out, so Jeremiah could have his way.

“Don’t I always,” James gave him a small smile before closing his eyes, and opening his mouth.

“You right,” Jeremiah nodded. “Put et dick in yo mouf fa me,” he told him, watching James, grab the base of his dick, putting it on his tongue while Jeremiah began to gradually stroking into his mouth.

James made sure to keep his mouth wet and his cheeks suctioned tight against Jeremiah’s dick, humming when Jeremiah hit the back of his throat.

He gagged a bit, which only made Jeremiah’s dick wetter, then he fully opened his throat for Jeremiah to use.

“Mmmhmm–you get even betta,” Jeremiah nodded, then started heavily breathing as he shoved his full length into James’ mouth and throat. “Shit,” he panted, and his eyes fell shut.

He bit down hard on his lip to stifle his noises, still considering they were at a formal event. Jeremiah just let his heavy breathing be paired with the wet, choking sounds of Jeremiah’s dick sliding in and out of James’ throat.

“I’m rey nut already,” he breathed, for he was already worked up from the friction James’ thighs gave him. “Oooo,” Jeremiah hissed, gripping James’ hair and quickly thrusting into his mouth, feeling his dick throbbing.

Jeremiah just let out high-pitched pants as he got closer, only being seduced more by the sounds they were making. “Fuck, baby,” Jeremiah huffed, pulling back quickly, letting his tip rest on James’ tongue as he started to cum.

James just sucked him through his nut, making sure to swallow every last drop. He then pulled back and stood up.

“Shit, Chase callin’ me,” James, putting his finger to his lip. “H-Hello?” he answered, his voice sounding hoarse. “Okay–w-Imma be thur inna second. You know Ian rey miss Micah announcement,” he told Chase.

Jeremiah just furrowed his brows at James’ words as he got himself together. “Imma go first es time,” James told him with a bit more confidence this go around.

Jeremiah only nodded, “Go head,” he pointed to the door. “I needa fix myself up a luh more,” he told him, and James only stared at Jeremiah, shaking his head.

“Them grillz gon’ get the life sucked outchu again,” James told him, bodly.

A smirk spread across Jeremiah’s face, “Go listen ta yo fren announcement,” he told James, watching him shake his head again, then exiting the bathroom.

Jeremiah waited a couple of moments before leaving, immediately getting annoyed and overstimulated by the sounds of a million hands clapping with cheers and screams.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, doing his best to tune it out.

It felt like he was going in slow motion as he entered the gala hall, walking towards his seat.

Out of his peripheral, he saw Micah and Kelia hand in hand walking up the stairs of the stage.

Micah took the microphone as Jeremiah sat down in his seat. “Hey, everybody,” Micah awkwardly chuckled into the microphone, bringing it close to his mouth.

“Hey!” the crowd shouted back.

“Look, Ion really got a long announcement–but… I do want ta formally announce,” Micah grabbed Kelia’s hand, lifting it into the air, showing off her ring. “We gettin’ married.”

Almost everyone in the room stood up, Jeremiah could only roll his eyes, looking towards Alana. “Es shit gettin’ borin’, ma,” he spoke in her ear because of all the screaming and clapping.

I’m really just irritated and overstimulated.

Alana looked up to him. “What do you mean? My fren gettin’ engaged!” she pointed to the stage.

Jeremiah just sighed, clapping a bit for Micah.

He just looked up onto the stage. Micah could easily spot him in the crowd.

Their eyes caught each others for a moment, and for a moment, Micah swore he saw Jeremiah’s eyes glisten at the news, but when he looked away and looked back, Jeremiah had a small smile on his face, gently clapping for him, mouthing, “Congratulations,”

•••

later that night

“Et went better than expected,” Micah smiled as he looked over to his fiance in his passenger seat with her hand rubbing her belly.

Kelia nodded in agreement, “Yeah. Everyone seems happy for us,” she smiled at him. “It’s not as scary as you thought, huh, Micah?” she told him.

Micah stayed silent at that question, “You hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, but you don’t need to buy me anything. I already have so many leftovers from you ordering me food delivery,” she chuckled a bit.

Smiling as he continued to head towards her house, Micah nodded. “Aight. N Imma start lookin’ fa places soon–I hope you know Ion like us bein’ apart when you like es,” he shook his head. “Yo parents–”

“I know, Micah,” Kelia grabbed his free hand that wasn’t on the wheel. “They’re… harsh and overprotective. They want the best for me, and so, if that means livin’ home until grad, then,” she shrugged.

“I respect et,” Micah told her. “They do treat you like a fuckin’ princess,” he shook his head. “Spoiled ass,” he told her.

“And you’re not?” she chuckled.

“Ion think so,” Micah shrugged. “Even tho I grew up good, you see how my parents are, they real real harsh, so I still had ta work fa everything. It wasn’t no handout–especially when Michael Jr is yo big brother,” he concluded, making Kelia tense up a bit at the mention of Michael Jr.

“Yeah…” she got quiet.

Micah found it a bit strange, but he figured she just didn’t have anything left to say.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived at her house. Micah helped her out of the car, into the house, and into her room—luckily without any hassle.

“Don’t worry, they went out tonight,” Kelia kissed his lips, feeling him slip his tongue inside as they kissed for a moment.

“Lemme eatcho pussy,” Micah spoke on her lips.

Kelia shook her head. “They will be back soon, and if you eat me, I want some dick.”

Micah bit his lip. He was so sexually frustrated. “Aight,” he pecked her lips a few more times. “Imma jus’ beat my dick at home.”

“You’re so childish,” Kelia giggled.

“I’m human,” Micah shrugged, standing up. “Aight, baby. Bye, luh you.”

“Love you too,” she blew him a kiss, grabbing a book, laying it on her belly, reading it as Micah left her room, then her home.

Micah made it back to Downtown Louisville, to his school and his dorm in record time.

He was really horny. Micah was feening to beat his dick.

Once he arrived, he parked, rushing up the stairs instead just to get some extra cardio.

He made it to his door, grabbing the lanyard from around his neck, entering the key into his door, and turning it.

Micah opened the door for all of a few seconds, “Fuck, Miah,” he heard Alana moan as he saw Jeremiah fucking her from the back with her face pressed into their couch.

Jeremiah glanced over at him for a second, watching as he slammed the door close.

“Is es bitch serious?” Micah scoffed, feeling a sudden wave of anger.

“Micah!” Jeremiah called out to him, pulling out of her. “Sorry, ma. We gon’ have ta finish anotha time. I thought he was wit Lia,” he told her, putting on his pants.

“Me too,” Alana groaned, standing up and heading to Jermeiah’s bathroom to clean herself up.

Jeremiah went to their kitchen sink to quickly wash his hands before he left the room, running down the hallway, “Micah!” he called out.

“Bitch, stop talkin’ ta me. How many times I’m rey come home ta yo dirty dick ass fuckin’ dirty bitches on my shit!” Micah almost yelled.

“Yo shit?” Jeremiah asked. “You barely even in et mufucka.”

“Who’s a dirty bitch?” Alana yelled from the hallway.

Fuck. Jeremiah thought.

“Can you go back inside?” Jeremiah asked her.

“Bitch, stop talkin’ ta me, too, fa I tell yo bestie how you wanted ta fuck me. Thot!” Micah spat at her.

Alana just looked at him with wide eyes, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me bitch. N I dur you walk back in my shit–go home, community pussy,” he shooed her, and Jeremiah almost wanted to laugh, but he kept it in, feeling his dick get hard again.

He loved it when Micah got like that.

Honestly, most things Micah did turned him on.

Once she left, Jeremiah refocused on Micah. “I’m sorry fa et.”

“Ion give a fuck. Leave me be,” Micah pushed past him, ignoring him.

Jeremiah nodded, thinking of how Micah would usually crack. It’s really like that…

•••

Over the next couple of days, Micah and Jeremiah hardly made any personal contact.

They were both busy training to go against each other.

Micah also juggling school, his relationship, his career, new sponsorships, and focusing on getting recruited.

Meanwhile, Jeremiah’s new song was gaining views more and more each day.

It had over three hundred thousand total plays already across streaming, and the amount was only increasing exponentially.

He now needed a manager, one for his music and his basketball career.

He had a few teams, trying to recruit him–especially the one that Michael Jr belonged to.

Jeremiah was becoming a big deal.

“So… you think you can beat him?” Taylor asked Jeremiah as he practiced against him for one-on-one practice before their match.

Jeremiah nodded. “No cocky shit, who betta than me on the team?” he asked Taylor.

“Me,” he scoffed.

Jeremiah smiled, “You prolly the only nigga who is–nigga already guaranteed ta go pro,” he told Taylor.

“Nah. You gon’ win tho’. I love Micah, but his head been all ova the place this yur–he coulda been the best–outta all of us, but it jus’ seem like he don’t want it as bad as we do,” Taylor spoke honestly, patting Jeremiah shoulder while they sat on the bench to drink some water.

Jeremiah nodded, “Yeah,” he sighed.

From everything he knew, Jeremiah didn’t really feel as if it was a win-lose situation. Just more lose-lose.

Especially if he won, Micah would just prove everyone right, and Jeremiah knew how talented and driven Micah was. He just had a lot on his plate.

But… Jeremiah also had his own life to think about, and he and Micah were together.

They once again found themselves as rivals.

It was a place they both didn’t like to be in, but it felt like they had to be.

After practice, Jeremiah found Micah in the small gym, shooting over and over again.

He does want it. Jeremiah thought.

A small smile was brought to his face, seeing that.

Honestly, if Micah won, he wouldn’t mind it.

But he wasn’t just going to hand a win over.

“Good luck,” he said low before exiting the gym.

•••

ONE V ONE DAY

It was a hectic Saturday. The skies were a perfect blue, the temperature was fifty-five degrees, and the Louisville University campus was still busy.

The time neared 5 PM, and the students, people around the city, friends, family–everyone gathered to attend the one V one.

They were piling into the school with a few of the basketball players standing in the hallways to guide everyone to the big gym.

It was supposed to be held in the small gym, but a last-minute change was made when Taylor and Chase arrived at the main building to help, seeing that it was already packed.

“Aye, iss Jordan ‘back wit anotha video, mane!” Jordan yelled into his GoPro camera, holding his microphone that was connected.

He also had a few of the video students behind him, helping to film and livestream the whole event.

“You can pay through witcho card or cash,” James smiled. He stood near the front door with their other teammate, Corey, collecting cash and swiping people’s cards for the event.

Since it ended up being so big, they decided to charge five dollars per person–free for kids.

“Aight, now follow me–” Jordan continued, walking through the halls. “We got Tay n Chase helpin’ the people,” Jordan stopped Taylor, putting the camera in his face.

“Wassup, y’all,” Taylor waved into the camera.

“Aight, y’all. We rey go check on the two y’all be cravin’ ta see,” Jordan smiled, heading towards the room that Jeremiah was in.

“BITCH, ION JUS” PLAY BALL!” Jordan recited his lyrics as he busted into the room, catching Jeremiah off guard who was relaxing his mind before the game.

He had his headphones on, listening to the new song he might’ve been performing tonight if he won.

When I win. He thought.

“Wassup, Jay,” Jeremiah chuckled, dapping him up and looking into the camera. “Of course, we filmin’ es shit,” he laughed.

“Of course, Jeremiah Kentwood,” Jordan spoke into the microphone, sitting down next to Jeremiah, setting his camera down to face them. “AKA–Woody Kent. Speakin’ of–BITCH, ION JUS’ PLAY BALL–I MAKE CALLS,” he passed the microphone to Jeremiah.

“Take a nigga bitch. She want my dick. She wanna suck-my-balls,” Jeremiah freestyled, remixing his lyrics which only made everyone in the room start cracking up laughing, including the video students.

Jordan dapped him up. “Exactly. Now, can I ask you some pregame questions all the people want to know?”

Jeremiah nodded.

“Aight, bet… first one, are you intimidated by your opponent at all–Micah does come from a talented family. I mean look at his brother,” Jordan asked, reading questions from his phone that they had students send in.

“Well,” Jeremiah smirked. “Not really,” he chuckled. “Micah good, but I’m betta. Next question,” he answered quickly. He didn’t feel like they were in a space to really be going at each other without it feeling like they really hated each other.

“Coo–If you win, do you have any furs of beatin’ Michael Jr?” Jordan asked, pointing the microphone towards Jeremiah.

Jeremiah smirked, “I think Micah gotta betta chance at beatin’ me,” he spoke honestly.

Jeremiah genuinely thought Micah was better than Michael Jr.

Michael Jr just had better opportunities, and now, he has more experience.

If Micah truly wanted to play basketball. If it was his passion, he’d be beyond what Michael Jr could ever be.

That’s how Jeremiah felt.

“Ooo, shit. My bad, but it’s gettin’ spicy,” Jordan nodded. “Well, one more question,” he held up one finger. “Someone said, ‘I’ve noticed the good energy between you n Micah this yur–y’all finally puttin’ y’all petty beef ta the side. Will es match reignite the beef?’ They wilin’,” Jordan chuckled, pointing the microphone towards Jeremiah again.

Jeremiah took a deep breath. “It neva was beef. A nigga was always envious of the kid–clurly. Iss Woody mufuckin’ Kent!” Jeremiah laughed, again keeping his answer simple and surface level.

“Mufuckas is grimy,” Micah shook his head as he sat in a random classroom. He was viewing the live stream of the game.

He felt like he was being vulnerable when he told Jeremiah that he was a bit jealous of him because of everything he had going on in his life, and it felt like he was now using his words against him. To really hurt him.

Micah scoffed. “Bet dat,”

“Okay, well–I gotta head on ova ta the enemy in question,” Jordan teased, standing up.

He exited the room, leaving Jeremiah to himself as he headed to Micah’s whereabouts.

“Aye–next, up, MICAH!” Jordan barged into the room.

Micah was now accompanied by his fiance. “And Kelia, what a pleasant surprise,” Jordan added as he entered the room with the cameramen.

“Wassup. Wassup, Micah waved to all the cameras, making sure to smile at each one.

“Hey, Jordan,” Kelia greeted him with a wave as she kept her hand on her stomach.

“I can come in and ask y’all some questions?” Jordan asked.

“Us?” Kelia tilted her head to the side in confusion.

Jordan nodded, going over to pull a chair up in between them, directing the video students to have one camera on both, then the other switching back and forth between the two. “Of course, you the futcha bride of a star,” Jordan moved his hand back and forth between them.

“First question fa Micah, are you intimidated by your opponent?” Jordan asked him, pointing the microphone towards him.

“Intimidation requires being frightened—Jeremih has never in life freighted me,” Micah smirked. “I know I intimidate him tho’—caught niggas peekin’ in while I was trainin’ the otha day,” Micah told with a nod.

Jordan’s mouth dropped open, “Oh, shit—my bad—you fareal, Micah?” he asked, bringing the microphone towards him to speak, then back to Micah.

Micah nodded once more, “Why would I lie? N all I can say is, a nigga who ain’t worried ain’t studyin’ a nigga moves—”

“Micah—less cussin’,” Jordan whispered.

“My bad. A man who ain’t scared,” Micah emphasized. “Ain’t watchin’ my moves—unless… oh, right—y’all favorite rappa—Woody Kent so criminal!” he mocked his lyrics. “Tell him ta gon’ head n make a diss record afta he lose. Rappin’ is rey be his only go to,” Micah continued.

On the other side of the building, Jeremiah only furrowed his brows with a scowl as he listened to Micah’s words.

“Is iss nigga fareal?” Jeremiah asked himself, feeling himself becoming upset.

He assumed that they wouldn’t go there.

Micah wouldn’t have if he didn’t feel like Jeremiah exposed him first.

“Next question, JayJay,” Micah chuckled.

“Well,” Jordan shook his head, looking back into the camera. “Y’all hurd et? Es rey be good!” he spoke into the microphone. “Aight, the next one is fa the both of y’all—the people want to know when n whur are y’all gettin’ married, n Jordan wants ta know is he invited?” he aggressively nodded his head, pointing the microphone towards Kelia this time.

Kelia just smiled, looking over to Micah. “Umm—we haven’t decided yet… on the location,” she started, looking into the camera. “I want to go out of the country, but I know that’s not in most of our guest budgets, so we’re going to settle for something here. However, as far as date, we have one set,” she looked over at Micah again. “You say it, baby,” she told him.

Jordan pointed the microphone back towards Micah, “It’s gon’ be soon—May 20th, right before the baby comes—right after graduation, n yes, Jay, you invited—matta fact, the whole basketball team invited,” Micah told him, and Jordan clapped, standing up dramatically, then sitting back down.

“Thank you, brotha,” Jordan dapped him up. “Last statement, thur is a bit of speculation that you are already guaranteed ta go pro because of your connection—your brother, father etcetera… Are you jus’ bein’ recruited because you’re a nepo baby?” Jordan asked, reading off his last question for Micah.

Micah chuckled a bit. “Es funny,” he nodded. “N nepotism—it’s somethin’ I never shied away from. I always acknowledged my family, but less be clur—if I go pro, iss cuz I’m one of the best if now the best ball playa Louisville gotta offa right now—n et goes fa everybody.”

Jordan’s mouth dropped again, he pointed the microphone to himself, “Including big bro?”

Micah grabbed the microphone himself, not caring if Michael Jr was going to feel away about his statement, “Includin’ Michael Jr,” he didn’t acknowledge him as his brother for the moment.

It’s not like he ever really felt like one anyway.

“Oh, shit!” Jordan stood up quickly, running around the room. “It’s hot, y’all! Aye, iss all in love tho! Let’s go ahead n leave our two athletes alone—the game starts in about fifteen minutes. Be thur—or be pissy watchin’ at home on yo computa,” Jordan told them, then said bye to Micah and left the room.

Kelia stood up, going over to sit on Micah’s lap. She caressed his face, pecking his lips a few times, “Relax, baby. You been training. Let what happen, happen. You are still one of the best players in college basketball right now–you’ll still find opportunity,” she nodded, kissing him again.

Micah just smiled, rubbing her thighs and back. “Thank you, n thank you fa bein’ hur,” he smiled.

“MICAAAHHHHHH!” he heard his name being called. He looked up, seeing Meilie bust through the door. “I was lookin’ all ova es bitch fa you–Oh, hey, fiance. I been beggin’ Micah ta introduce us,” she told Kelia, sitting next to them.

Kelia just furrowed her brows. She already felt a panic start to rise in her.

Meilie was just Micah’s type, and she had trauma from the first time he cheated. “Don’t worry, I like coochie, mama,” Meilie assure her.

Kelia’s face turned into a small smile, “She not lyin–she was jus’ damn nur fuckin’ Dreya when we went ta ha New Yurs party–n she drove me ta the hospital et night, since I was so fucked up, n I had ta come see you,” Micah explained. “Sorry, Ian told you about ha yet, but you know how you can get, baby,” he grabbed her hand, kissing it.

Kelia looked back at Meilia. She smiled, holding her hand out. “Nice to meet you–what’s your name?”

“Meilie,” she smiled, shaking Kelia’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Meilie,” Kelia greeted her.

“So, whatchu doin’ hur, Mei–youn even like sports,” Micah shook his head.

Meilie smacked her lips, “Well, of course, I had ta come see my new bestie–plus… Jeremiah throwin’ a concert n releasin’ a new song tanight if he win. Not sayin’ I want you ta lose at all,” Meilie shook her head. “I’m just sayin’, issa win–WIN!” she cheered, standing up and jumping up and down. “Cuz if you win, we gettin’ FUCKED UP!” she told him. “If es okay wit mama?” she looked towards Kelia. “Hell, you can still come wit us,” she shrugged. “I’ll getchu some mocktails, gurl. Come throw et ass–you ain’t bedridden yet,” she grabbed Kelia’s wrists, standing her to her feet and dancing with her,

Micah just watched them and smiled, watching as Kelia laughed with Meilie.

He felt happy, but he couldn’t help but get stuck on Meilie’s words.

Was she really here for me? He asked himself.

“Micah, I’m heading out now. Alana wants me to sit by her during the game. I’m gonna put her courtside. I’m also hungry,” Kelia told him, walking up to Micah and leaning down to kiss him. “One more for good luck,” she kissed him again. “You’re gonna win. Don’t worry.”

Micah nodded, “Bye, baby. I’ll see you later–when we fucked up wit Mei,” he chuckled and Meilie stood there with her hands on her hip, nodding in agreement.

“Bye, Kelia. It was nice seein’ you,” Meilie waved.

“You too!” Kelia told her back, then fully left.

Meilie then turned to Micah. “Micah–what’s the prolum?” she asked, sitting in the chair that Jordan sat in. “I pissed you off that I’m hur fa boffa y’all?” she asked, noticing the energy switch after she spoke.

Micah sighed. Crazy ass girl. Why women always noticing shit?

“I jus’ feel like you really jus’ hur fa him–youn like basketball, Mei,” he told her. “N et makes me feel bad cuz if feel like youn thank Imma win–like… e-everybody else,” Micah’s voice cracked.

Meilie only sighed, feeling awful. She grabbed both of his hands. “Micah, listen to me,” she got close and looked him in his eyes. “You are my friend,” she told him. “If you went hur, I wouldn’t even be hur–yes, I’m a big fan, but Ion know Jeremiah, who doesn’t even like me because he thinks we’re fuckin’–“

“What?” Micah was caught off guard.

“Micah, please don’t act surprised. “I’m so not stupid, but anyways, I already love you, Mikey pooh–n it’s hurtin’ my feelins that you would even think et when I willingly left jus’ ta make sure you was good when I had an opportunity ta seem him already,” she told him honestly.

Micah sighed, nodding, “You right,” he facepalmed himself. “Iss shit is jus’…” he sighed again. “I’m so stressed out,” he breathed.

Meilie grabbed his hands again, “You got this,” she told him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Of course,” Kelia walked back into the room, shaking her head. She had forgotten her jacket with her wallet. “Right when I leave the room, Micah?” she asked.

Micah stood up, “Baby, please–et was not whatchu thank?”

“I swur, Kelia. I’m really gay. It was just a kiss on the cheek. Very innocent. I think of Micah like a brother,” Meilie tried to explain.

Kelia just scoffed, “Fuck you both,” she told them, snatching her jacket. “Talk to me when you win,” she bumped into Micah purposely before exiting the room.

Micah just blinked, staring at the door as it slammed shut.

He wanted to cry.

Go home. Be alone in his room and maybe with a bottle next to his nightstand.

“Micah, I’m sorry,” Meilie told him.

“Iss all good,” Micah told her, nodding.

“I’ll talk ta her if you want,” Meilie offered.

Micah shook his head no, “Nah. I got it. Right now I jus’ gotta focus on winnin’ es game,”

•••

THE MATCH IS STARTING

“WELCOME!” Taylor spoke into the microphone. “Welcome ta the one versus one match with Jeremiaahhh—Kentwood. AKA WOODY KENT!” Taylor introduced Jeremiah who ran onto the court in his jersey with the double zeros.

“WASSUP, Y’ALL?” Jeremiah screamed, cuffing his hands as he ran to the middle of the court. He stopped, dapping Taylor up, then adjusting his earplugs which stifled some of the loud noises.

The crowd only roared back, and a section in the bleacher started chanting Jeremiah’s new song.

“BITCH, ION JUST PLAY BALL. I MAKE CALLS. LEAVE A NIGGA DEAD IN A DITCH. HE TOOK A GREAT FALL. TAKE A NIGGA SOUL WIT MY PISTOL, TURNED HIM TO A DOLL. NOW I’M ON THE ROAD, WIT MY BRO–BITCH, I RISKED IT ALL!” they yelled and Jeremiah bopped his head, grabbing the microphone, but not taking it from Taylor’s hand.

“Bitch, I didn’t fall–Woody Kent a mirac–le. New chemical–Imma boutta win at it all–

Imma ball–Free concert, down the hall,” Jeremiah jokingly remixed and promoted his concert.

The crowd only went even crazier. “I LOVE YOU, WOODY KENT!”

“I love you too, ma. Make sure you be front row at the concert, so I can see you say it ta me next time,” Jeremiah smiled, then Taylor pulled back the microphone.

“Aye, y’all give it up fa Jeremiah one mo time–Now,” he pointed to the right side of the court. “COMIN’ TA THE COURT–THE ALMIGHTY, MICAH–PAAAARRRKKKKSSSSS!” Taylor yelled, and the crowd went crazy again as Micah ran out onto the court.

Micah grabbed the microphone fully from Taylor. “Y’all ready ta see a funeral?” Micah asked, pointing the microphone to the crowd.

The crowd only went crazy, and Jeremiah just chuckled.

He was riled up now.

“Es all I got,” Micah nodded.

He attempted to put his best confidence on, although his mind was spinning.

Everything was once again–too much.

Taylor then spent a couple of minutes trying to calm the crowd, so they could get started.

“Aight, we gon’ start wit a coin toss, heads go first. Micah, whatchu got?” Taylor asked him.

“Heads,” he told Taylor, and Taylor nodded. He then had Jeremiah hold the microphone. The two face one another with Taylor standing between them. He pulled out a gold coin, flipping it into the air with his thumb, catching it mid-air, and slamming it onto the back of his hand.

“It’s…” Taylor lifted his hand, “HEADS!” he called out, and Micah smirked at Jeremiah who just shrugged. “Aight, boys. Y’all ready?” he asked, and the two nodded. “Y’all know the ruled. Be fair–call out ya own fouls. First ta twenty-one.”

Taylor then threw the ball toward Jeremiah, who was starting on defense. He then threw the ball away from his scoring net, watching as Micah traveled to catch it, turning around quickly, they only had five seconds, before he bent his knees, jumping into the air and making the first point in the game.

“Micah one,” Taylor announced as the ball bounced back onto the floor, but Jeremiah caught the ball, being that Micah was too slow to come and catch it before it hit the floor again. “Ball in Kentwoods hands now.”

“Fuck,” Micah groaned to himself. He was on the defense now, traveling and guarding Jeremiah as he tried to score a basket, but Micah jumped up, blocking the ball, preventing it from going into the net.

The crowd just roared and cheered for Micah.

He breathed heavily as they got into their next position. Micah was feeling a bit of confidence.

The ball was in his court now. He had the opportunity to get a good lead on Jeremiah before Jeremiah went to being in an offensive role.

After years of playing with him, Micah knew Jeremiah’s offense was probably already pro-level.

Jeremiah stood at the free throw line and Micah was at halfcourt. Jeremiah passed him the ball, then Micah grabbed it and immediately started traveling down the court, shaking Jeremiah in the process, who did his best to guard him, but Micah had been practicing, and it showed because he jumped into the air and scored a dunk on Jeremiah, bringing his score to four.

“Parks two–Kentwood zero,” Taylor announced into the microphone.

Micah was too caught up in the moment, and his ball got stolen once again from him by Jeremiah who traveled to the other side of the court, shooting it just above the free throw line, gaining him two quick points himself.

“Kentwood one–Parks two,” Taylor announced. “His ball,” he told him, and then Micah grabbed the ball.

The two lined up at the baseline–Micah was back on defense. He threw the ball towards the middle of the court, and they both followed after it with Jeremiah grabbing it again, dribbling it down the court, towards his opposition’s goal, jumping up and shooting it, scoring him another point. “Two fa Woody!” he shouted with a chuckle, making Taylor laugh too as he ran to go catch the ball before Micah could, turning around and shaking him, dribbling back towards his goal a few steps before turning around and scoring again.

“Three Kentood–Two Parks,” Taylor shouted in between their play.

Micah grabbed the ball tossing it to Jeremiah who traveled down around the free throw line, then up towards the goal attempting to shake Micah again, but Micah caught on this time, and as he threw Micah caught the ball, running down towards Jeremiah’s goal and dunking again.

“Et nigga’s a show-off,” Jeremiah scoffed to himself.

The crowd only roared from the exciting game.

“THREE PARKS–THREE KENTWOOD!” Taylor yelled into the microphone. “AYE, Y’ALL ES REY BE A GOOD ONE FASHO!” he laughed.

The game went on, back and forth for a while with the two making intense plays.

It was close.

“KENTWOOD–TEN. PARKS–13!” Taylor yelled as Micah scored his second point in a row.

Micah was confident at this point.

He ain’t watch me enough. Micah thought as he locked eyes with Jeremiah–the ball in his hand. Jeremiah gave Micah a small smirk.

“Good job,” he winked at Micah, making Micah get thrown off a bit, but he regained himself.

He traveled down the court, doing his best to maneuver around Jeremiah and get to his goal.

Jeremiah was taller than him, and he quickly adapted, so his defense was better than it was at the start of the game.

Micah attempted to go around him again, accidentally bumping into him hard. “FOUL!” Jeremiah yelled, causing Micah to groan.

“Fuck,” Micah cursed to himself, facepalming himself.

“TIMEOUT!” Taylor made the T with his hands. “Go drink some water or sum—Everyone reconvenes in ten minutes!” he yelled into the microphone.

Micah ran over to the courtside. “Baby,” he called out to Kelia, who had Alana on one side and Meilie on the other? “Huh?”

“I talked ta her,” Meilie shrugged.

Kelia nodded, “She explained to me she’s just hella touchy-feely, and I explained to her that you used to be not shit freshman year, and she agreed to be less touchy with you to make me more comfortable,” she explained.

“N what else I sed, Lia?” Meilie asked her.

Kelia just started laughing and shaking her head, “I don’t know if I should repeat that to Micah.”

Micah raised a brow. “Fuck you say ta my fiance, nigga?”

“She said ‘Wait! Keilia! I’m really gay. If anything, I’d fuck you b-before Micah,” Kelia stuttered as she recalled her words.

“Oh, hell nah,” Micah smacked his lips, going up to Meilie, standing in front of her.

“Don’t hit me–AH!” Meilie fake screamed. “I was jus’ playin… fareal…” she gave Micah a fake smile.

Micah just playfully mushed her forehead and laughed, making her laugh too.

“Here you go, Micah,” he was handed a water bottle by one of the athletic trainers.

“Thank you,” he breathed heavily, taking a few gulps of his water.

“Five minutes,” Taylor yelled into the microphone.

Micah looked over to the court, seeing Jeremiah headed his way with a smile on his face.

An unconscious smile spread across his own face, and Micah felt his heart race a bit, but his smile dropped when he realized Jeremiah was looking past him at Alana.

“Wassup, LANA!” Jeremiah yelled, not wanting to go over there with Micah, his fiance, and a woman who was supposedly just his friend.

Micah scoffed, “I’m rey used the bathroom, real quick,” he told the ladies, then ran off.

Once he came back, the game resumed.

“Aye,” Jordan started recording again. He walked through the bleachers asking people questions.

“Who you got?” he put the microphone in Chase’s face, who was sitting courtside.

Chase smiled into the camera, ” I gooottt… him,” he pointed towards Jeremiah.

“Really? Micah has been taking the lead all game,” Jordan asked.

“Yeah, but Miah playin’ a smart game–you’ll see,” Chase nodded.

“Valid–” Jordan nodded, then moved down to another one of their teammates, Nathan. “Who you think rey win, white boy?” he trolled him.

Nathan just laughed, “Micah for sure,” he nodded. “He’s edging Jeremiah–pause,” he laughed, dapping Jordan up who was laughing. “But you can tell with his plays. He’s smart this game, and I don’t believe Jeremiah is going to be able to catch up enough before Micah gets twenty-one–he’s going for the exact score,” Nathan analyzed.

Jordan nodded. He himself felt like it could go either way. “Well, y’all hurd it from the people who work closest wit the two–back ta the game,” he pointed to the court.

The game continued to go on for a while more with the score being eighteen to sixteen–Micah with eighteen and Jeremiah with sixteen.

Jeremiah was on the offensive this time.

They were standing face to face again. Micah threw the ball down the court, and Jeremiah rushed to grab it, but was unsuccessful, and Micah caught he ball, swiftly turning around and traveling to Jeremiah’s goal, shooting from inside the free throw line.

Jeremiah was starting to get frustrated, but he shook it off.

“Micah’s ball,” Taylor called, and they faced off at the baseline again. Jeremiah threw him the ball, and then Micah caught it, dribbling it.

He made a split decision, turning around with the ball which Jeremiah raised a brow at. He then moved left quickly, turning back around, crossing the ball through his leg, then shooting over Jeremiah and into the hoop.

“And es nineteen fa Micah!” Taylor shouted, hearing the crowd screaming.

They screamed even louder when Jeremiah stole the ball from midair. The two then got into a standstill with Jeremiah constantly traveling across the court and making his first dunk of the game.

“AND ES SEVENTEEN FA JEREMIAH!” Taylor shouted. “His ball!”

The ball was passed to him again, for it was his play. They stood at the free-throw line. Jeremiah dribbled for a few seconds, then crossed Micah again, gaining another point when he shot the ball, pushing it gently into the air as he was by the net, tipping it in.

“EIGHTEEN FA KENTWOOD!” Taylor smiled, jumping up and down. “It’s gettin’ close y’all,” he spoke close into the microphone, making his voice deeper.

Micah felt his heart start pounding. He wiped the side of his face off with his jersey, putting his hands on his knees as he completely focused on Jeremiah, following his every movement.

He followed him, guarding him as Jeremiah kept his offense up, pushing closer and closer to the net.

This was Micah’s plan. Once he allowed them to get close, Micah jumped up at the same time as Jeremiah, smacking the ball to the ground.

“N ES ANOTHA POINT FA MICAH PARRRKKSS!” Taylor yelled out. “THE SCORE IS TWENTY TO NINETEEN. ISS GAME POINT FA MICAH, N THE BALL IS IN HIS COURT!”

The crowd only went even crazier. Micah at this point had a smile on his face. He looked over to his friends, and his fiance–he then looked back at Jeremiah who still had a cold, unwavering expression on his face.

He looked at Micah as if he was just an obstacle in his path… and Micah did the same.

It made Micah and Jeremiah’s chest tight, but it was the cards they were dealt with.

The game resumed with Jeremiah gaining a couple more points–tying up their scores, but he lost the ball, so it was in Micah’s hands again.

“Fuck–I’m rey combust. Who’s gon’ win?” Jordan asked, looking into the cameras.

Jeremiah and Micah had their final faceoff at the baseline, by Jeremiah’s net.

He tossed Micah the ball, and then Micah quickly began moving on his feet–he quickly moved towards his goal, then used his tactic from earlier, keeping his back towards Jermiah as he moved, so Jermiah couldn’t guess his movements.

Micah acted as if he was getting close to Jeremiah’s net before he juked him, traveling towards his goal again, then attempting to shoot just inside the outside of the free-throw line.

“Go in. Go in. Go in…” he repeated to himself.

“Catch es mufuckin’ ball, Miah,” Jeremiah told himself as he jumped into the air. His heart beat through his chest. He closed his eyes for a second, smiling when he felt his hand come in contact with the ball.

Jeremiah heard the roars of the crowd. They were going crazy, but he tuned them all out.

There’s only one option. He thought to himself. Micah was too close to his net. Micah would get the ball back and win, so…

Jeremiah jumped into the air and put the most power behind a shot he’s ever done.

The ball went flying through the air.

Micah just stood there, not expecting Jeremiah to throw the ball from across the court–a full-court shot.

His eyes traveled with the ball–and while he was distracted, Jeremiah ran past him, grabbing his ball from the air and dunking for a final time.

“AND THAT GAME–POINT! THE WINNER OF THE ONE VERSUS ONE IS… JEREMIAH KENTWOOOOD AKA WOODY–FUCKIN’–KEEENNTTTT!” Taylor yelled, and the people almost burst Jermeiah’s eardrums for how loud they were.

Taylor came up to him, picking him up and dapping him up. “Congrats, my nigga!” he dapped him up, then looked towards Micah who just stood frozen for a second.

He looked back towards Jeremiah who had his name being chanted and was being swarmed by people. Taylor then looked towards Micah’s way again, seeing as he was gone.

“SO, WOODY–HOW THE FUCK YOU FEELIN’?” Jordan asked, putting the microphone close to Jeremiah as he had his arms around Taylor and Lama—Dreya and his other teammates also near.

Jeremiah only stayed silent for a moment. His eyes got wet, and he turned away from the camera. “Iss aight, bro,” Lamar assured him.

Jeremiah wiped his eyes with the ends of Lamar’s hoodie, then focused back on the camera. “Man–” he smiled.

“Bitch, I did it all–Woody so original. Smoove criminal–like a thief I take the ball–

Then I WON IT ALL–WOODY REY PLAY PRO BALL!” Jeremiah yelled, jumping up and down.

Meanwhile, Micah stood outside of the building. He already knew he was about to be swarmed, and he just wanted to be left alone.

“Micah!” Meilie called after him. “Whur you goin’? You ain’t comin’ ta the concert?” she asked.

“Fuck et nigga, n fuck et concert, n fuck every fuckin’ thing!” Micah yelled with tears falling from his eyes.

He continuously tried to wipe them, and Meilie only wrapped her arms around Micah again. “I-I-I failed again. Mei. I fuckin’ failed,” he cried.

Meilie only felt her eyes get wet as she held him tight. “I failed again–I’m not good enough. I never will be,” he shook his head. “He’s always gon’ be betta than me,” Micah sniffled.

She could only stand there. For the first time, Meilie didn’t know what to say.

Micah had so much trauma that just her words wouldn’t stop him from feeling this way, so she did what she knew she could do–hold him.

•••

Micah

ik shit between us a lil weird,
but I still want you 2 come to my concert.
Ion want us to be a place where
we rlly not liking each other.
Come out n have fun wit a nigga.
We alway have fun regarless. <

Jeremiah had been looking at his messages with Micah, staring at them for the last hour.

He was not backstage of the auditorium in his school.

Jeremiah convinced them to let him host his concert there. It being a charity event help to convince them.

“Aye–es is a good ass day,” Dreya told Jeremiah, breaking his attention from his phone. “Wuss wrong? Why you been starin’ down yo phone?” she asked.

Shaking his head, Jeremiah stood up and sighed. “Hell, nah–I’m ready ta finally perform es track. My daddy rey be in the crowd. He my biggest supporter. My frens in the crowd–my brotha,” he grabbed Lamar, “N my sista,” he grabbed Dreya, pulling them in for a hug. “They by my side. What more can I ask fa?”

Him to be here. “But he not comin’,” Jeremiah accidentally said low.

“Who?” Lamar raised a brow.

Jeremiah shook his head. “You not talkin’ ’bout et crazy ass nigga–et foster daddy?” Lamar asked.

“Nah, I was jus’ thinkin’ shit–don’t ovathink it,” Jeremiah told them.

“Aight, Miah–we boutta bring you on,” Chase barged inside.

He was put in charge of the concert. Chase was the best organizer out of the group, so Jeremiah knew who would be in charge.

Jeremiah nodded, smiling when he heard Chase start to introduce him.

“GIVE IT UP FOR THE ONE AND ONLY–WOODY KENT!” Chase yelled out, and Jeremiah ran out on stage with Lamar and Dreya behind him.

He only heard cheers which made him temporarily stop thinking of Micah.

Jeremiah was worried about him though.

“Aye, Ian even rey waste y’all time. I’m onna good note. I jus’ wanna keep celebration’ all night! LU ARE Y’ALL READY?” Jeremiah yelled as he moved across the stage.

“YESSSSSS!” they yelled in unison.

“Que up my music!”

After performing his new freestyle, Jeremiah decided to finally perform his new song. “Y’all be waitin’ a minute fa es one,” he spoke into the microphone.

He straightened it up, listening as the music got slower. “I jus’ wanna slow it down a luh bit–es new track, it really hits home fa me. It explains really–who the fuck I am… n I hope y’all fuck wit it…”

“When I was alone. Nowhur ta call a’ home,” Jeremiah started, shocking his audience when he started to almost sing. His southern accent and tone, giving almost giving a country vibe to the chorus.

“My Daddy in pen–I thought I neva see him again–I lost too many fuckin friends…” he sang. “Put y’all mufuckin’ lighters inna air,” he spoke into the microphone.

“When I was alone. Nowhur ta call a home.”

“My Daddy in pen–I thought I neva see him again–I lost too many fuckin friends. I thought my pain would neva end.”

“But my Daddy told me, he was comin’ back. I ain’t believe him, and I told him et,”

“Cuz a nigga been told too many lies.

Done seen too many niggas fuckin die.

I got so tired of fuckin’ crine…

I got so tired of fuckin’ crine…” he continued. “Shout out Jeremy inna buildin’. I love you foreva, daddy,” he sniffled a bit.

“So I had ta turn up on niggas. I had ta Show ’em how I do it.” he switched his flow, starting to rap more.

“I had ta watch and learn from niggas. Cuz they fake and bull shit.

“I had ta earn… respect from my nigga…

Cuz they was thur… from the beginning…

Yeah—they was there… from the beginning,” Jeremiah pointed to Lamar and Dreya on stage, the looked towards the crowd, hoping he would be able to point Micah out too since he was also there from the beginning.

But, he wasn’t…

“They watched how Woody Kent became… That Nigga, That Nigga.

“They watched how Woody Kent became… That Nigga, that nigga.”

When I was alone. Nowhur ta call a home.

My Daddy in pen–I thought I neva see him again–I lost too many fuckin friends…

When I was alone. Nowhere ta call a home.

My Daddy in pen–I thought I neva see him again–I lost too many fuckin friends–I thought my pain would neva end.

Now a nigga makin’ dividends,

These niggas fake, and they pretend,

Bought Micah steak, just cuz I can,

Cuz a nigga got bands on top of bands.

They mad, they bitches really fans,

Wanna suck my dick inside a Benz,

Then put dat dick inside ha ribs,

She wanna my baby, mini Kent.” he finished quickly rapping his second verse, showing off how good his breath control was.

“Cuz I’m that Nigga… Don’t you forget it…

I take yo bitch, she suck my dick, then I forget it…

Now ha nigga mad–He wanna kill me,

But he forgot, I’m Woody Kent.

Bitch, I’m that nigga!

Et mean I got niggas in da back… pullin triggas.

(Yeah)

Bitch, I’m et nigga.

(Yeah)…” Jeremiah finished, only to be met with loud screams and yelling.

“Y’all fuck wit it?” Jeremiah asked. “Well, Imma puttin’ es hoe on streamin’ tomorrow–fa me winnin’ es match and releasin’ two fuckin’ hits!” he said, and again the audience went wild.

•••

later that night

After the concert, Jeremiah headed back towards his dorm building.

It was nearing two in the morning, and he wanted nothing more than to just lie down and sleep.

A match and performing? Jeremiah would never do that again.

His body was exhausted, but at least he managed to raise a significant amount of money for the local shelter he wanted to give it to.

Jeremiah sluggishly headed up to his dorm.

He was surprised when he entered the dorms and everything was starting to be packed up.

Well, not his stuff, but it looked like Micah’s.

He entered fully, noticing that Micah had his door open with him frantically throwing his stuff into boxes.

“Micah,” Jeremiah called out to him with no answer. “Micah!” he said a little louder, standing in the threshold of his door. “MICAH–”

“What the fuck do you want?” Micah looked up at him with a glare.

Jeremiah was already on edge from Micah’s energy. “You ain’t come ta the concert, n why-why you packin’?” he asked.

“Why the fuck would I come ta a nigga concert who jus’ embarrassed me in front of thousands of people?” Micah asked him, blinking. “Answer me et, Jeremiah?” he asked. “You be tryna fuck wit me?” he asked.

“What are you talkin’ about, Micah? N how I embarrass you?”

Micah just scoffed, chuckling a bit as a few tears rolled down his face. “Ever since I moved in es mufucka witchu,” he nodded, looking up at Jeremiah with wet eyes. “Ever since–my life has been–fucked up, n it seem like yours is perfect,” he smiled, laughing through his tears.

Jeremiah was only confused even more, “Whatchu tryna say?” he asked.

“I’m sayin’… Micah paused, looking away for a moment, then looking back into Jermeiah’s eyes with his piercing green ones, “I fuckin’ hatechu.”

to be continued…

•••

Thoughts on the chapter? Predictions?

Favorite part?

•••

link to all of jeremiah’s songs that i recorded in my bio & in the comments

tell me what y’all think. my boy rey go big or what? And help me name his freestyle put it in the comments

•••

im also making a solo discord soon—books, anime, games, art—yall gon be my called my fujo warriors(the anime gorls get it) and obv im the head fujoshi