Chapter 14
SAME DAY, SAME TIME
Jumping up from Micah’s bed, Meilie ran over to the closet, yanking it open, and releasing a blood-curdling scream, seeing Micah hanging from his belt.
His eyes were closed, and he was even paler than usual as his limp body gently swayed.
Meilie felt like she was in a horror movie.
“Micah!” she yelled, grabbing the stool that was kicked over, and standing on it, quickly trying to undo it. She was frantic, and she didn’t even consider the fact that once she released him he would drop to the floor. “I’m sorry. Micah,” she cried, getting off the stool, and taking the belt from around his neck.
She put her ear to his chest, biting down on her lip hard, trying to hear if he had a heartbeat. She sighed in relief when she heard a faint one, but he wasn’t breathing.
Meilie ran and grabbed her phone from the bathroom, dialing 911, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance at-” She quickly went to her messages to get his address.
“Okay, miss, what’s the issue?”
“My-my friend tried ta h-hang himself. He has a faint heartbeat, but he-he’s not breathin’, n Ion know what ta do,” Meilie cried.
“Miss, calm down, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” the phone operator spoke, then started detailing the instructions on how to perform CPR.
Meilie did as told, putting her two hands on his sternum, attempting to push down a few times, then blowing in his mouth. She put her ear to his chest again, not hearing a change.
She started panicking, shaking, and becoming frantic.
“Miss!” the operator called out.
Meilie just panicked and hung up. She then went to grab Micah’s phone. She thought about a person who would Micah would feel comfortable around and that could help. She clicked the button on the side twice, so Siri would come up. “Call, Jeremiah,” she said into the microphone.
The phone dialed, and she put it to the side while attempting CPR on him again.
A few moments later, Jeremiah answered, “Micah?” he asked confused.
“NO IT’S M-MEILIE!” she breathed as she continued doing her best to pump his chest. “MICAH AIN’T BREATHIN’, N I NEED YO HELP. I-I’m not strong enough. He’s still not breathin’,” she cried.
Jeremiah only blinked. He was in the library, studying. “WHAT!” he yelled out, accidentally. “I’m on my way,” he ran out of the library, not even saying bye to Jordan who was with him. “Meilie, I need you ta listen ta me,” he told her as he ran outside, jogging to his car. “Wait, first whur y-y’all at?” he asked.
“His house. Jus’ please. I’m not strong enough–” Meilie cried.
“Yes you are,” Jeremiah told her. “Listen,” he spoke as he ran to the parking lot and jumped into his car. “You do not stop compressin’ his chest. Ion give a fuck if you hur a rib break.”
“What?” Meilie cried, not understanding. She didn’t want to hurt Micah any more than he already was.
“Meilie!” Jeremiah called her name. “You use all the fuckin’ strength you have in yo body, n you pump his chest as hard as you can until you hur him start breavin’ or the ambulance get thur. You hur me?” he spoke sternly.
Meilie nodded on the other side of the phone, pressing down even harder on his chest, pumping up and down, then closing his nose so that she could breathe into his mouth.
She listened to his chest, not hearing him breathing yet.
She started to feel panic, for his heartbeat grew weaker. “I can’t do it, Jeremiah,” Meilie cried. “He still not–”
“MEILIE!” Jeremiah yelled. “Do what the fuck I jus’ said. Nut UP! Who need help” Him or you?” he told her, and although it was harsh, it made her shake her head and focus on helping Micah.
She put her hands on his chest again, pushing down as hard as she could, pumping his chest over and over. “You got it,” Jeremiah told her, although fear and worry ran through his mind. He didn’t know what was going on, but he could only imagine.
A million things were running through his brain as he focused on driving, heading to Micah’s house. “Keep goin’, Meilie,” he encouraged her.
“I’m tryin’,” she sniffled. “C’mon, Micah, please,” Meilie huffed as she continuously pumped his chest; her arms felt tired, but she refused to stop.
“You got it. Imma be thur soon,” Jeremiah told her.
Meilie nodded, taking her hands off his chest and blowing air into his mouth again.
She went back to pumping his chest, continuing to do that for about ten minutes straight before she heard the blaring sounds of the ambulance.
Meilie screamed, so they could find her and she could keep giving Micah CPR. “I’M IN HUR!” she let out a ragged scream, for her voice was starting to leave her.
She looked back at Micah’s pale face. “He’s already light as fuck… c’mon, Micah, you lookin’ real cracka jack,” she chuckled through her tears, hearing footsteps race into the room.
Meilie moved to the side, watching in a blur as the EMTs worked hard to get Micah back to breathing again.
“The abmbulance thur?” Jeremiah, who was still on Micah’s phone, asked.
Meilie jumped, looking down at his phone and grabbing it, “Yes,” she sniffled. “They got him breathin’, Jeremiah,” she sighed in relief.
Jeremiah sighed in relief. “Okay… well, I’m not really needed no more.”
“No,” Meilie cut him off. “I need you right now. I know youn fuck wit me like et, but…”
“It’s not that,”
“I know what it is, n I’m gay as shit. Ion want the nigga,” Meilie told him.
“What?”
“You hur me. But es not important right now. Can you bring me ta the hospital? I can’t drive right now. Not at all,” Meilie asked him. “N I can’t look at Micah no more ’til he awake,” she shook her head.
Jeremiah sighed, “Okay… I’m still on my way,”
He arrived ten minutes later, seeing Meilie sitting on the steps of Micah’s house by herself with her hands cradling her face.
Jeremiah parked, but left his car on, stepping out of it to go get her.
He squatted in front of her, peeling her hands back, seeing the distraught woman in front of him.
“What happened?” Jeremiah asked, holding her hands.
Meilie only teared up again, recalling it, “Micah—he-he… he tried ta hang himself,” she emphasizes. “Not even pop some pills, a quick shotty ta the head, no—this nigga chose one of the most brutal, painful way to die,” she nodded. “I’m triggered as a nigga, seein’ a nigga hang, but as Micah’s fren,” she shook her head, wiping her eyes quickly. “Damn.”
Jeremiah only felt his heart breaking as she spoke. “He did what?” Jeremiah asked in disbelief. He stood up, “Mmm, mmm,” he shook his head, starting to feel overwhelmed himself. “No, no, no,” he shook his head rapidly.
“Don’t start panickin’—rememba whatchu told me?” Meilie sniffled.
“But why?” Jeremiah asked, feeling his eyes gloss.
“I feel like we bof know why, Jeremiah,” Meilie sighed. “But… we couldn’t intervene,” she shook her head. “Luckily, we was hur ta catch him when he fell tho.”
Jeremiah sighed, “I needa moment fa I drive.”
“You wan’ smoke?” Meilie asked, and Jeremiah nodded.
They got into his car, lighting up a blunt that Meilie had pre-rolled earlier in her purse.
Jeremiah took a few hits to calm his mind, then he turned on his car.
The two drove to the hospital in silence. It was an eerie feeling.
Meilie just couldn’t help but think how easily that if not for her or Jeremiah, who Micah could rely on during his tough times.
She shook her head, hitting the blunt as she listened to the low music playing in the background.
The two pulled up to the hospital. Jeremiah parked in the front, “Okay, keep me updated, please—lemme give you my numba—” he started.
“Fuck you talkin’ about? You not goin’ up ‘er wit me?” Meilie asked confused.
“Um,” Jeremiah hesitated. “I jus’… is et a good idea? We not really on… good terms.”
“Who give a fuck about that right now, Jeremiah?” Meilie grabbed his face. “You know we all he got right now. You know that. You the only nigga in my mind that popped up that I could think of that truly has the best interest for him,” she nodded.
Jeremiah only looked away sadly; his face was still in her hands. He took a deep breath, “I feel like… I’m jus’ sorta responsible—” he confessed.
“No!” Meilie cut him off again. “You are not responsible fa es. The mufuckas responsible are the bitches who call themselves his parents that raised him with no autonomy. So don’tchu dur. Not when I hur Micah tell me how happy you make him,” Meilie told him. “So let’s go, aight. Let Micah be around people who love him truly when he wakes up.”
For a moment, Jeremiah said nothing. He considered still saying no, but… Micah needs people who love him.
And I do love him…
“Okay,” Jeremiah nodded. “Okay,” he sighed, putting the car in drive and heading towards the parking garage.
Once he parked, the two got out of the car, and rushed into the hospital.
“We’re hur fa, Micah Parks,” Meilie spoke at the front desk.
•••
a while later
Micah woke up suddenly, taking a deep breath. He felt deja vu from the last visit to the hospital.
There were dried tears that stained his face as he looked around the room. He took deep breaths, feeling his throat, touching the bruise that the belt left behind.
“Oh, you’re awake,” the nurse came inside.
Micah just looked at her as she began to speak. He barely heard a word. It just sounded like mindless babbling.
“There’s two people here for you,” were the words he heard when his mind started paying attention.
“Ion wanna see nobody,” Micah told her.
“Are you sure… they looked pretty concerned,” the nurses asked him again.
Micah raised a brow. “Who is it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but let me call down and get their names, okay?” she told Micah, who just nodded.
Once she left, Micah got underneath the covers and started crying.
His feelings were all over the place. It was like Micah’s brain was scrambled, and all he could do was cry.
It almost felt like he was a baby again, unable to do anything to communicate but cry…
Moments later, the nurse came back inside. “The two people here are Meilie and Jeremiah,” Micah’s eyes went wide, and he popped up from the bed.
“Jeremiah?” he asked, shocked.
She nodded, “Yes, do you recognize them. One was a lighter-skinned girl with short hair—the other tall, with tattoos, and dreads,” she described them.
Micah only stared, feeling his chest tighten.
He nodded, “Yeah,” he said low. “Let them in. Nobody else,” he shook his head. “Nobody.”
His nurse only nodded, leaving the room again after asking Micah what he would like to eat.
“MICAH!” Meilie came barging inside. She ran to his bedside, wrapping her arms around him as tears started to pour out of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Mei,” he rubbed the back of her head, kissing her forehead. “Stop cryin’, I’m still hur,” he smiled, although he wasn’t sure if he was happy to still be breathing. “You saved me, didn’t you? H-How you even get in my house, crazy bitch,” he laughed, making her chuckle a bit through her tears.
“You already know et,” she sniffled.
Then Micah felt the other side of his hospital bed move. He looked to the left of him, facing Jeremiah, who only had tears in his eyes.
Micah only blinked, and tears started to form back up into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah,” he sniffled as tears started to pour down his face.
Jeremiah didn’t say anything, he just wrapped an arm around him and Meilie, squeezing them tightly as Micah sobbed and sobbed… and sobbed, until his voice started to fade.
Meilie and Jeremiah just hugged him through it, never leaving his side.
They just held him.
After about an hour, Meilie left for a moment, so she could get some clothes for Micah, let Junie into their dorm because she lost her key, and pick the three of them up some food.
That left Jeremiah who was now sitting in a chair by the window, on his phone, listening to music and writing.
Micah had napped after all his crying, waking up, feeling drained. He wiped his eyes, looking over at Jeremiah.
He just stared at him.
Intensely.
Watching the way he slightly poked his lips out when he was in deep thought, or how when he’d get a burst of happiness he’d smile and tap his feet.
A small smile formed on Micah’s lips. Fine ass.
“C’mur,” he said low, but Jeremiah didn’t react for he couldn’t hear with his headphones on.
Micah just smacked his lips, facing forward, toward the TV, with his arms crossed.
Hoe ass nigga gone come and see me, but not paying attention to me?
Right after he looked away, Jeremiah popped his head up, seeing that Micah was finally awake.
He took off his headphones, standing up, sitting right next to him.
Micah side-eyed him, “Now niggas wan’ realize I’m up,” he spoke with a slightly hoarse voice, looking back at the TV.
Jeremiah just smiled, putting his arm around Micah. “Niggas beefin’ wit a nigga on they deathbed,” he shook his head, making Micah crack up laughing.
“Aye, et was fucked up,” Micah told him, then got quiet, sighing.
He thought about their interaction… about everything they’ve been through this year, “I’m sorry, Miah. Fa everything,” he told him, looking towards him. “I been constantly treatin’ you like shit, n youn deserve et. I jus’—”
“Micah,” Jeremiah hugged him. “Youn gotta apologize ta me. Not right now. The only thang I want from you at this moment is ta know that you are not alone,” Jeremiah told him. “I know it may have felt that way, and thur’s niggas who should be in yo corner that’s not, but you have people tho,” he nodded. “Me, Meilie, Jordan, Chase, Taylor, James, Coach…” he told him. “We all love you, Micah, n unfortunately, some hurtful ass words and actions didn’t make me stop lovin’ you,” he told him honestly.
Micah just sighed, putting his forehead on Jeremiah’s. He looked into his eyes as Jeremiah gently wrapped his arms around him. “Ion blame you. Ion thank you selfish or nun of et bullshit they try n say. I know how you feel. I been thur, n I know you feel lonely, butchu not alone, Micah. I don’t cur what we goin’ thru, you neva gon’ lose me,” Jeremiah shook his head. “I could neva hatechu in a million yurs. My heart won’t allow it.”
Jeremiah didn’t even know where these words were coming from, but he knew Micah needed to hear them. It was like his usual troubles of expressing himself was overcame by his feelings for Micah.
Micah only felt his heart throbbing as Jeremiah spoke. He looked back up into his eyes as their faces were close to one another. “Jus’ one?” he asked Jeremiah, looking down at his lips.
Jeremiah nodded, gently leaning in to peck Micah’s lips, feeling Micah start sucking on his, wrapping his arms around Jeremiah’s shoulders.
He does love me, huh? Micah thought to himself.
I was so shitty to him, and he’s still here. That mean he loves the fuck outta me…
“Mmm,” Micah hummed, feeling Jeremiah stick his tongue in his mouth. “I love you, too,” Micah spoke on his lips before kissing him again, sucking on his tongue while Jeremiah repositioned them so that they were laying down on their sides as they kissed.
They then pulled back, and Micah just kept his arms wrapped around Jeremiah.
Jeremiah kicked off his slides, putting his legs fully into the bed, grabbing Micah’s leg and putting it on top of his, gently holding his thigh.
“How long they keepin’ you in hur?” Jeremiah asked as Micah snuggled into the crook of Jeremiah’s neck, moving the arm on the bottom to the middle of them, putting his hand on Jermeiah’s chest while still keeping his other arm over his shoulder.
“Ion know,” Micah shrugged. “You gon’ stay hur wimme?” he asked, raising a brow.
Jeremiah nodded, grabbing his cheeks and turning his head, so he could kiss his lips again, then his nose, “Howeva long you want me hur,” he explained. “I’m jus’ glad you still hur wit me, Micah,” Jeremiah told him, sniffling a bit.
Micah sighed, “I wish I could be glad too, Miah.”
Jeremiah didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent.
They two just stayed cuddled up until the door opened. It was Meilie. “Hey, y’all—don’t freak, Micah, he knows I know,” she said aloud.
Micah just sighed, chuckling a bit. He looked towards Jeremiah. “Youn cur?”
“I mean… not at this moment. My only concern is you, but do I want niggas in our business? Not really at all,” Jeremiah answered.
Nodding, Micah sat up fully, smiling when he saw the Popeyes bag in her hand.
“Bring that ass hur, gurl. I’m hongry as shit,” he chuckled.
“Before you eat,” a nurse walked inside. “So, we want to set you up with an MRI scan. We need to check your brain to see if there could be any damage,” she told him.
Micah only felt nervous hearing that. “Don’t fret too much. Seeing you up, talking, and even hungry gives us a good sign that the damage is none of minimal, okay?”
Micah nodded, “Okay,” he told her.
“Last thing, you have more guests. Some claim to be your family—they do seem to be. They look like you, and they’re demanding to see you, but I told them I had to check with you because you didn’t want any guests,” she told him.
Micah sighed, “We-We can leave,” Jeremiah told him.
“Uhh,” Micah hesitated, looking between Meilie and Jeremiah.
In truth, he wanted to say don’t let them in, but that’s not what he said. “T-they can come.”
“Micah, you sure?” Meilie questioned.
Micah nodded again, “Yeah…” he huffed, now feeling anger surge through him.
Jeremiah and Meilie both went to sit in the chairs close to the windows of the room.
A few moments later, the door was opened, and Michael Sr and Sabrina rushed inside.
It even looked as if his mother was crying. “Micah!” she came to his side.
Micah just stayed silent. He wondered if their words would mean anything to him at this moment.
“Son, why would you do such a thing?” Michael Sr asked.
Micah again, just remained silent.
“Micah!” Sabrina put her hands on his shoulders, looking into his green eyes with hers. “Answer your father,” she told him. “Why?”
“No disrespect, but I thank it should be obvious,” Meilie spoke up.
They both looked over at her with scowls. “Why are you even in here? THIS IS MY SON!” Michael Sr yelled. “Get OUT!” he pointed towards the door.
“She not goin’ nowhur,” Micah spoke up.
Michael Sr and Sabrina both looked back at Micah. “What are you talking about, Micah? I told you, you don’t need to be hanging around people like her!” Michael Sr yelled.
Micah just sighed. He got his confirmation.
Even in his lowest times, they were only concerned with his image—the family’s image.
“Nah. I made a mistake. Y’all need ta leave,” Micah told his parents.
“What?” Sabrina asked in offense.
“I sed y’all need ta leave. Get out my fuckin’ room,” Micah told them without batting an eye.
Michael Sr scoffed, “Who the fuck are you talking to like that, boy!” his father yelled, making Jeremiah’s senses become alert.
Micah just sighed, “If y’all don’t leave, I’ll call security or sum. Ion got time ta deal wit es shit,” he spoke plainly.
Michael Sr got close to him, “Who the hell do you think you are?” he raised his hand about to slap him, but his wrist was gripped by Jeremiah.
“Who hits they kid afta almost killin’ theyself—have some morality, Mr Parks,” Jeremiah told him, looking into his eyes.
Scoffing, Michael Sr then raised his other fist, attempting to punch Jeremiah, but he dodged it, then felt himself being pushed.
He looked over to see that it was Micah, now standing from his bed. “Get the fuck out,” he seethed. “You n yo bitch, get out my room.”
Sabrina just gasped, and Michael Sr’s eyes got wide in disbelief. “FUCK Y’ALL STANDIN’ THUR FA?” he yelled as he started to shake and panic. “GET THE FUCK OUT MY ROOM—I HATECHALL!” he yelled almost storming at his father, but Jeremiah grabbed him from behind.
The two just stood there as Micah cried and yelled, “I fuckin’ hatechall. On the real Michael Sr, I hatechall,” he looked at the two with venom. “Y-Y’all don’t like me. Neva did,” Micah said restrained in Jeremiah’s arms. “Neva!” he jumped forward, trying to break free. “Y’all neva cared fa me, neva loved me, neva fought fa me. I’m MAD!” he screamed. “I’m mad as fuck that I woke up, n I was still alive—that’s how fuckin’ miserable I am. That’s how miserable you make me. I woke up n the only feelin’ I had left for Michael Sr and Sabrina was hate. Y’all only want MJ, y’all got whatchall wanted,” he concluded. “N I mean every word I sed, so get the FUCK out my fuckin’ room.”
Sabrina only kept her mouth covered as a few tears escaped her eyes while Michael Sr had his fist balled up. “You dare talk to me and your mother like this?” he asked with piercing eyes, and Sabrina only let out a dramatic cry.
“Y’all ain’t shit ta me. On God,” Micah bucked in Jeremiah’s arms.
Jeremiah sighed. Meilie only watched in the back ready to defend Micah at any point he needed.
“So you’re just going to move out?” Michael Sr scoffed. “What the fuck are you going to do? We are the reason why you have everything you could’ve ever wanted!” he shouted. “We are the reason you are you.”
Micah just shook his head, “Not anymore,” he told them. “Not no more. Ion need nothin’ from y’all. I got me.”
“YOU DON’T GOT SHIT,” Michael Sr yelled.
Micah shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. Now, if es all, get the fuck out my room!”
“Honey, let’s just go,” Sabrina grabbed her husband’s wrist. “Clearly Micah isn’t in his right mind.”
“Let’s before I finish what he started,” Michael Sr scoffed.
Micah just chuckled, and Jeremiah wanted to speak up, but he didn’t know what to say at the moment.
His heart broke for him. He couldn’t imagine how his blood could speak to him like that.
He couldn’t fathom Jeremy ever speaking him to like that, even just the other day when Jeremiah was mean to him, and he still only wrapped his arms around him and loved him.
“Don’t listen ta et,” Jeremiah told him low in his ear.
“Nah, Jeremiah. I am,” Micah nodded with tears in his eyes, watching them leave his room without saying anything else. “It jus’ tells me Ian wrong fa how I’m feelin.”
Jeremiah looked back at Meilie. They both shared looks with one another.
In that moment, they both were thinking that they wished they could shoulder some of the pain Micah had, but they couldn’t.
They could only be there to support him and remind him that they were in his corner.
After they left, Micah tried his best to not cry.
He stayed silent, feeling Jeremiah let him go. He crawled back into his bed, putting his face on the cover. He then felt himself start breaking down again.
As much as he didn’t want it to, his parents’ words hurt him. A lot.
He then felt as Meilie climbed on top of him, laying her back on top of his. “You gon’ be okay,” she told him, and Micah just sighed, feeling oddly relaxed by the weight on his back.
Meilie didn’t move and eventually the two both fell asleep.
•••
later
It was later that night, Micah was playing the game with Jeremiah after he went to his dorm and brought it.
The nurses had been routinely checking on him, and even put him on vocal rest, since he completely lost his voice after yelling at his parents, and his voice was already damaged from the belt.
That’s why when his brother walked in the door next, Micah ran across the room, charging at him instead of talking.
“J-Jeremiah,” he spoke in a hoarse yell. “Let me the fuck go! Imma beat the fuck out this nigga!”
“Micah, what the fuck is yo problem?” Michael Jr asked in disbelief, but then he thought about Kelia. “Oh, she told you.”
“Le–” Micah’s voice gave out. “Let me go! Let me go, Jeremiah,” Micah wiggled in his arms.
“Micah, he ain’t worth it,” Meilie told him. “You’re supposed ta be on vocal rest, Micah.”
Micah shook his head. “Y-you hate me so much, bro thatchu be fuckin’ my gurl?” he asked, and Jeremiah and Meilie’s mouth dropped open. “Huh?” he asked, his voice still gone.
“Aye, maybe you should just go,” Jeremiah told Michael Jr.
Michael Jr scoffed, “What you his bodyguard?” he spat back. “Y’all niggas look like some f*ags,” he chuckled, then Jeremiah at that point let Micah go, so he could punch Michael Jr himself.
He stumbled back and then regained himself. He then swung back but got pushed hard by Micah.
Micah then started repeatedly trying to punch Michael Jr in the face. “I hatechu!” Micah let out a ragged yell.
Michael Jr got the best of him, turning him on his back next, but then Jeremiah pulled him off of him. “L-Leave!” Micah choked out as they were pulled apart.
A few moments later, in walks Kelia and hospital security from the commotion being overheard. “Is everything alright in here?” the guard asked.
“Micah!” she ran inside the room.
Micah just furrowed his eyebrows, “What the f-” Micah’s voice gave out. “W-Why are you hur? You get the f-fuck out too! Ta-take them bof outta hur, please. I-Ion want no more visitors,” Micah told security with tears in his eyes.
“Micah, please,” Kelia cried, holding her stomach.
Meilie and Jeremiah both sighed.
“Leas jus’ go, Kay,” Michael Jr told her, trying to grab her hand.
“No! Micah, no—I’m not leavin’ you,” Kelia cried.
Micah nodded, “Yes, you are—Ion wanna see you right now. Ion hatechu, but get out,” Micah told her in a very weak and hoarse, already riled up.
Kelia only sobbed harder, “Okay,” she nodded, looking over at Meilie and Jeremiah.
They both felt a bit bad—more Meilie than Jeremiah.
She looked genuinely bad, and Meilie knew Micah cheated first. It didn’t make it right though.
Meilie was going to choose her friend who was in a rough state. She was going to choose her friend who needed her at the moment.
“Well, I’m going to need you two to leave,” the security guard told Michael Jr and Kelia.
Michael Jr just shook his head and left first. Kelia hesitated, not wanting to leave Micah’s side, but when she saw how Micah wouldn’t even look at her at the moment, she just decided to leave.
Once they left, Micah had to hurry and sit down, for he felt like he would pass out again.
Jeremiah sat down next to him, wrapping his arms around him, holding him tightly. “You can let it go, Micah,” he rubbed the side of his arms. “We still hur,” he told him, and Micah felt Meilie grab both of his hands and then like a few other moments in the day, the two comforted him while he wailed and cried.
Both of their hearts broke again, and Meilie knew from the past that just their comfort wouldn’t fix Micah.
•••
the next day
All Micah wanted to do was stay wrapped around Jeremiah’s body all day and night, and Jeremiah lent it to him to use at the time.
It was early afternoon. Micah was sleeping clinging onto Jeremiah with his arms and legs while Jeremiah was snuggled into Micah’s chest.
They had been like that all night, except for when Jeremiah or Micah had to use the bathroom, but as soon as either got back in the bed, Jeremiah put all of Micah’s limbs back onto him after making sure that his IVs were still connected.
Micah never minded it though. He felt like it was needed in the moment.
He woke up to the sound of a nurse coming into his room.
Micah pried himself off of Jeremiah who still tried to cling to him. He looked around, seeing Meilie was gone. She probably went home for the night once they were sleeping.
“Good morning, Micah. How are you feeling today?” she asked, coming close to him and started examining him. “You don’t have to talk, okay, but can you write it down for me?” she asked him, setting down some paper and a pen on his bedside table, wheeling it close to him.
Micah nodded, grabbing the pen.
I’m cool. I feel… okay physically I suppose, but my throat still hurts a bit. Mentally, I’m not sure.
He then handed her the paper.
Once she looked over it, she couldn’t help but make a worried face, but still gave him a smile. “Okay, Micah. Today, we scheduled your MRI. It’ll be in a few hours. Again, we just want to make sure your brain is okay, and a doctor will be in later to take a closer look at your neck, throat, vocal cords, etcetera,” she explained. “Also… she paused, “We made a mental health inquest,” she told him.
Micah raised a brow. “What?” he spoke, coughing afterward, for he hadn’t spoken in a while. He then closed his mouth, grabbing the paper back from the desk.
Miss Nancy… what do you mean mental inquest? Inquest like what?
He handed her the paper.
She read it over, sighing, “Micah… an inquest is basically a warrant. You will be possibly having psychiatric evaluation, maybe even temporary hospitalization.”
“WHAT!” Micah tried to scream, grabbing his throat again.
“Micah!” Nancy breathed. “You have to stop talking, please, and yes. Micah, do you understand the severity? I don’t want to go into details and make you relive, but… especially as a black man–” she paused, taking a breath. “That’s brutal, torturous almost. We just want to make sure you’re mentally healthy as well, and that you don’t feel the need to make any more attempts…” she concluded.
Micah just looked at her, gripping the sheets. He facepalmed himself, sighing and thinking about his life.
He couldn’t even deny what she was saying because in that very moment, all he could think was how he wished he stayed asleep.
“I’m going to check your vitals,” Nancy told him, and Micah just laid back, letting her do whatever she needed.
He sighed, looking over at a sleeping Jeremiah.
Micah connected their hands underneath the cover, and he felt Jeremiah squeeze his.
Maybe I do need to go.
I’m damaged, and I don’t want to be.
•••
Jeremiah stayed with Micah throughout the day as Meilie came and went, getting stuff for them. He stayed when Micah was paranoid about getting an MRI, crying to Jeremiah because he thought what if his brain was damaged? He just tried to take mind off of things, showing Micah new songs he was working on, getting his opinion, or asking Micah about his new art adventures.
Micah was currently writing on his paper since he still couldn’t talk. Jeremiah also wrote on the paper since he was already the type to not talk.
Micah hadn’t told them that he was going away yet.
Yo ass pussy for switching out of art class by the way.
He wrote him, then passed the piece of paper to Jeremiah.
Jeremiah only chuckled when he read it, snatching the pen from Micah’s hand and reaching over him to write on the bedside table.
Well, we wasn’t on the best terms, Micah… I’m not good at art… I only did the class because I wanted to be around you.
He then passed the paper back, seeing as Micah rolled his eyes, but his face got visibly redder.
Jeremiah smiled, grabbing Micah’s chin and giving him a quick peck. “You a lie,” Micah croaked out.
“You ain’t ‘pose ta be talkin’,” Jeremiah scolded him.
Micah only groaned, snatching the paper and pen from him as he started aggressively writing.
He then tossed the paper to him.
Whatever nigga. You still pussy for switching, and don’t kiss me unless I say you can.
Jeremiah laughed loudly again, grabbing the pen.
Okay, Micah. Whatever you say.
Next, Micah felt his phone ringing. He hadn’t really been on it, deciding how talking to more people outside of his nurses, Meilie, and Jeremiah was too much for him at the time.
However, when he saw the name that flashed on the screen, his eyes widened, and he immediately answered.
“H-Hello,” Micah tried to speak.
Jeremiah snatched the phone from his hand. “Excuse me, Micah ain’t pose ta be speakin’ right now.”
“Micah, son… h-how are you? I just wanna tell you how much me n ya granny love you, Micah,” his grandfather spoke to him through the phone that was now on speaker. “T-they said you wasn’t takin’ visitors, n yo daddy called askin’ me if I put shit in yo head I–” he stopped, and Micah only sighed, feeling bad that his situation trickled down to his grandparents.
He then felt an arm around his shoulder, “Write down watchu want me ta say, n what yo goofy ass daddy do don’t got shit ta do witchu,” Jeremiah told him in his ear.
Micah looked at him, quickly and deeply pecking his lips before he grabbed the piece of paper.
“I’m sorry I could be thur more fa you, Micah,” his grandfather continued as Micah felt his heart ache a bit by his words. He sighed, then continued writing.
“Hello, grandpa Parks,” Jeremiah spoke, making Micah chuckle at what Jeremiah called his grandfather since he didn’t know his name. “Umm… Micah can’t talk because of… you know the situation, n his vocal cords are a luh damaged. He’s writin’ right now, n Imma read off what he say–my name is Jeremiah by the way,” Jeremiah told him. “Ion know if you know me, I met Micah in middle school. We went ta the same high school n now we got ta the same colle–” he got cut off by himself, realizing he was beginning to ramble. “Sorry, lemme read what Micah wrote,” he chuckled.
“He said ‘You didn’t do anythang wrong, paw paw. I love you ta death. I kind of cut off your son and his wife, so that’s why he’s probably called you. I can’t explain everythang right now, but I thank you for being there as much as you could, n it was always appreciated. Tell granny I love her too, n I’ll tell the nurses ta let you two in. I’d love to see y’all…’,” Jeremiah finished reading.
Micah looked at the phone waiting for a response from his grandfather. “We on our way, n I–I know es my son, but… I’m proud of you, Micah. It sounds like you finally stood up fa yaself–somethin’ I can’t even do when it comes ta your father… I know they hard on you, n… I love you even more, Micah,” he told him before hanging up.
A small smirk crept up onto Micah’s face. He started to say something, but Jeremiah pressed his lips against Micah’s, “Don’t say nun else you hur me?” Jeremiah whispered on his lips.
Micah only rolled his eyes, grabbing the piece of paper.
I told a nigga that I say when you can kiss me. You don’t listen to shit I say.
And WHO’s DADDY YOU IS? I CAN SAY WHATEVA I WANT!
Micah tossed the paper in his lap.
Jeremiah read it, laughing.
“Well, you right I don’t listen ta shit you say, so Imma kiss you when I want, n two Ion know if you want me ta answa et, Micah,” Jeremiah smirked.
Blushing, Micah mushed Jeremiah’s face.
Jeremiah scoffed, “You gon’ stop putin’ your hands on me.”
“O-Or what?”
“I said stop talkin!” Jeremiah grabbed his wrist pinning him to the bed, getting in between his legs.
Micah only looked up at him, biting his lip.
“You gon’ realize who da big dawg between us one day,” Jeremiah said close to his face.
Micah only started cracking up laughing, choking out a bit.
Niggas is lucky I can’t talk because what the hell is he talking about.
Jeremiah smacked his lips and then attempted to move off of him, but Micah wrapped his arms around Jeremiah, pulling him down so that he was lying on top of him.
He sighed, then turned his head, so that he could breathe. He grabbed his phone going to the notes app.
Micah started typing and then showed Jeremiah the note.
Just stay right here cuz I said so. Wake me up when my paw paw and my granny here.
“You so fuckin’ bossy,” Jeremiah smacked his lips again, but he would do what Micah said anyway.
•••
the next day
Today was Micah’s last day in the hospital, and he still had yet to tell Meilie, Jeremiah, or his grandparents that he was going away.
“When they dischargin’ you, Micah?” Meilie asked as he passed him his wings she picked up from a local restaurant.
She then went over to Jeremiah who was in the chair by the window, bringing him his box of wings.
“Thank you,” Jeremiah smiled up at her.
She blushed a bit, plopping down next to him. “I love you, Woody Kent,” she giggled, making Jeremih laugh and shake his head.
“You want me ta send you some unreleased shit?” Jeremiah asked her.
“Oh my god, yes, please,” she low-key fangirled.
Meilie then grabbed her phone going to her and Micah’s text, seeing that he said they were discharging him today.
“What!” she looked up at him. “Today? Wh-whur you goin’ back ta yo crib? Dorms?” she asked.
Micah sighed. He didn’t really feel like having that conversation, but it was time that he told them the truth.
He grabbed his phone, putting them in a group chat.
Mei ❤️ & Jeremiah
So basically. Imma be in a mental hospital
for a month. They put a mental inquest
on me because of the attempt and how brutal
it was as my nurse described. I didn’t
refuse treatment… I feel like I need it.
I’m fucked up y’all, and I wanna be better. <
one thing that I realized when I woke up is I want to start taking charge of my life in whatever way I can, starting with this… i hope y’all understand. <
After reading the text, the two only stood up and went over to Micah. Meilie hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Of course I do, Micah. I love you, n… I promise when you get out Imma still be hur,” she told him, looking into his eyes.
Micah felt a little emotional by her words but in a good way. It felt bittersweet.
“I been hur, n Imma remain,” Jeremiah told him, looking down at the two. “I’ve already told you a million times.”
Micah looked up at him, feeling his heartthrob. He looked away, feeling overwhelmed by the emotion Jeremiah made him feel.
He was scared of that feeling.
Micah felt at this point that he wasn’t good enough for Jeremiah, in addition to everything else that would prevent them from being together.
Mei ❤️ & Jeremiah
thank yall. I love yall… a lot…<
“We love you too, Micah,” Meilie told him. “You gon’ be okay. I promise. You have so much more life, you so talented, n I hope…” she sighed. “I really hope you take control of your life—nobody is above you. Start puttin’ yourself first, Micah,” she nodded. “You have to.”
Micah nodded, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tightly.
A couple of hours later, Micah’s doctor came in and explained his MRI. He had little damage, just some nerve damage, but luckily Meilie came in time so that blood and oxygen were still going to his brain.
A few more hours later, it was the middle of the afternoon, and they were discharging Micah, and he was about to leave to head to the mental facility for a thirty-day program.
The two both stood in front of the building, watching Micah go away.
Micah tried to dap Jeremiah up before he got into the car that was taking him away.
Jeremiah only raised a brow, but he dapped him back up, feeling Micah pull him into a hug.
He got close to Jeremiah’s ear, “I love you,” he whispered low, pulling back, smiling and waving at the two of them, then getting into the car, closing it shut.
•••
two weeks later
Since Micah had been away, Jeremiah had been focusing on himself, school, and his career even more.
His one V one with Michael Jr got rescheduled because of everything with Micah, that had yet been circulated. Only certain people knew what was going on.
The people that visited him. That’s it.
Micah’s family had been clearly trying to also keep everything under wraps because how would
it looks as if the public knew their ‘precious’ son tried to hang himself in their home.
Fortunately for them, Jeremiah and Meilie only cared about Micah, so they wouldn’t put his business out there.
It was his story to tell, his story to expose…
Currently, Jeremiah is in Atlanta.
He had gotten invited and flew out to guest on a popular radio show as well as perform at a popular nightclub.
Unnamed Freestyle, That Nigga Freestyle, and Woody Freestyle were all still gaining numbers.
People were demanding more from him.
Currently, he had Lamar and Dreya with him in his Uber Black, driving to the station… but this time, he brought two more people.
Meilie and Taylor.
Jeremiah and Meilie had still been keeping in contact with each other—mostly Meilie bothering him.
She would always ask him about music previews, making Jeremiah laugh and think maybe she really was his biggest fan, so he texted her a couple of days ago asking if she wanted to come.
“Ahhh!” Meilie screamed in the backseat.
“Ion know if I like you more excited ’bout es nigga than me…” Dreya spoke in her ear, biting it a bit, sending a chill up Meilie’s spine, making her bite her lip.
She looked over to Dreya who just smiled with her new diamond grills. “Meet me inna nearest bafroom,” Meilie told her, making her laugh.
“Get these gay hoes out da CAH!” Lamar trolled on the other side of Meilie.
“I know—” Dreya started.
“Dreya shut the fuck up,” Lamar hurried to cut her off.
Jeremiah just ignored most of their antics. He couldn’t pay attention anyway since he was hella nervous.
This was his first big interview, and he knew the radio show he was going to usually asked the rappers to freestyle.
It’s not that he wasn’t confident in his abilities, but Jeremiah did battle with performance anxiety sometimes.
His first couple of shows were not as good as his shows now. It’s always the first few for him, but once he gets passed those, he’s usually good.
“Alright, Mr Kentwood, we’re here!” the driver spoke.
He didn’t hear it though, so Lamar tapped him on his shoulder. “Miah,” he called out to him.
Jeremiah looked back at him, moving his headphones to the side. “Huh?” he asked, then Lamar pointed to the driver.
“We’re here, Mr Kentwood,” he nodded towards Jeremiah.
“Oh, my bad,” Jeremiah chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt as everyone also started getting out of the car.
They then all followed Jeremiah as he led them inside to the front desk.
“Aye! It’s Woody Kent!” A person standing by the front desk yelled out. “Just the nigga we was waitin’ fa,” he held his hand out for Jeremiah to dap him up.
Jeremiah just nervously smiled and dapped him back up. “I’m honored ta be hur.”
“Ta be hur,” The man jokingly mocked his accent, making Jeremiah and the crew laugh.
“I know an Atlanta nigga ain’t talkin’,” Jeremiah joked back, making him laugh.
“Aye, you right. Follo’ me doe—we goin’ up. Also, my name Ronnie,” he told Jeremiah.
Jeremiah smiled, “Nice ta meetchu, Ronnie,” he greeted him back, then started following him with his friends behind him.
They made it up to the room, Jeremiah already heard voices from the outside, and his nerves increased a bit.
“You gon’ be aight, my nigga,” Lamar told Jeremiah, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it a bit.
Jeremiah nodded, “Yeah.”
They then walked inside. “Aye, look who I brought!” Ronnie yelled out, and the radio hosts, Kyle and Landon, looked up and they both shouted, “Aye!”
“Y’all, finally,” Kyle spoke into the microphone as Ronnie guided Jeremiah to the round table where Meilie and Dreya sat on one side with Taylor next to him on the other and Lamar in the back a little.
He didn’t like to be in the spotlight much, especially considering what he does for a living.
“We finally got Woody mufuckin’ Kent in the mufuckin’ buildin! GIVE IT UP FA WOODY KENT!” Kyle spoke into the microphone and everyone in the room clapped as they played Woody Kent Freestyle in the background.
“Aye dis mufucka a hit. You hea me?” Landon dapped Kyle up. “My name what? Woody last name Kent!” he sang Jeremiah’s lyrics, making him smile. “Aye, y’all be beggin’ for dis nigga, Woody, so we had to fly our boy out all da way to da ATL,” Landon clapped.
“Facts. We happy to have you hea’. How you feelin’ Big Woody from Kentucky,” Kyle spoke in an even more country accent.
“Y’all niggas hoein’!” Lamar shouted from the back, making Kyle and Landon laugh some more.
“Ain’t they, Mar?” Jeremiah smiled, then looked back at them.
“Aight, aight. We done. Go ahead and introduce yourself, patnuh–look right dea’ at that camera,” Kyle pointed.
Jeremiah smiled, looking in that direction. “Wassup, listeners of Hot 93 hur in the ATL. We brought 502 inna buildin’. My name Jeremiah Kentwood AKA Woody Kent. Like Weezy sed, n don’t forget the mufuckin’,” he chuckled, pulling back from the microphone a bit.
“Congrats on all yo success, my dawg,” Landon congratulated him. “Woody Freestyle goin’ fuckin’ crazy–dat new shit you dropped Unnamed Freestyle go insane–n That Nigga Freestyle… man…” Landon shook his head. “I won’t like to you, blood. I play dat every day,” he chuckled.
Jeremiah only smiled, putting his two hands together in a prayer motion as he nodded his head. “Issa honor.”
“So for we get into da interview, introduce yo crew hea’. Aye, give dese niggas mics too, they look funny,” Kyle added on.
Smiling, Jeremiah turned around, looking at Lamar, “Es one of my main niggas Lamar–been knowin’ es goofy nigga since we were damn nur inna nut sack,” he chuckled, and the camera pointed to Lamar for a second and he gave a small wave.
Jeremiah then looked to the side of him at Dreya, putting his arm around her. “This right hur is my sista, Dreya. Been knowin’ ha fa as long as I been knowin’ es nigga. The three of us was wild. Been thur some crazy shit fareal,” he nodded. “Next ta ha is Meilie, she my friend from college. One of my biggest supportas, n I appreciate it always,” he gave her a smile, and Meilie fake wiped her eyes.
He then turned to the other side of him, putting his arm around Taylor. “Es my nigga Taylor, we play basketball togetha, n he been rockin’ wit a nigga since freshman yur, just a all around good nigga, and great friend,” he spoke genuinely into the microphone, holding gis hand out to dap Taylor up.
“Damn, I almost started crine,” Taylor chuckled.
“MAN,” Lamar stood up, and the camera turned to him. “ISS NIGGA GET FAVORISM CUZ Y’ALL PLAY BALL TOGATHA—HELL NAWL!”
Jeremiah facepalmed himself. “You can’t take ghetto niggas nowhur, on my life,” he laughed, and Kyle and Landon were just amused by their antics.
“Y’all funny. Aye, man, it’s good to see you have so much support around you tho,” Kyle spoke seriously. “Aight, let’s get into it. My first question is, how you feel wit all this damn success you’ve got?” he asked.
“Man,” Landon spoke. “Niggas got numbers!”
“Niggas got numbers like crazy—I think That Nigga Freestyle already at…” he looked at his laptop. “Ova seven hunnit thow!”
“Gah damn!” Landon chuckled, then the camera panned to Jeremiah who just smiled and nervously blushed a bit.
“Ion know,” he shrugged, chuckling, then grabbed the microphone. “I got hella imposter syndrome so… sometimes it jus’ feel like… es what I’m supposed ta be doin’ ratha than seein’ it as hella shit I accomplished,” he answered. “I… Ian grow up the best—aye, if you from the West End of Louisville—”
“Oh, I heard how niggas get down,” Kyle chuckled a bit.
“Man… n you gotta realize… It’s Kentucky,” he spoke. “Niggas ain’t got bread like et, n niggas is poor… As fuck,” he nodded. “Like we inna city whur iss ninety percent white, n everybody poor as shit—when you see white people iss not lawyers n doctors n shit, iss junkies, dope fiends, homeless mufuckas—I mean in the downtown area, allet typa shit, so… I guess I felt like I was jus’ doin’ what I needed ta do ta get out of my situation ratha… I made it,” he finished.
“But you made it tho, my nigga,” Kyle scoffed, looking at his laptop. “Let’s list some Woody Kent and Jeremiah Kentwood—for all my basketball heads, y’all know dis nigga too! Why y’all think we so excited? Jeremiah Kentwood, one of the star playas in college basketball—got the stats to go pro! It say hea’ you made varsity your sophomore year of college, you gained your first million streams on a song the same year, and you even did a mini tour around the East Coast with some other poppin’ artist… My nigga… das success!”
“Fact. Be proud of yourself, Woody,” Landon added on. “Most niggas not doin’ half of dat, and we ain’t even dive deep into all the things you really do doe!”
“Well, thank y’all,” Jeremiah smiled.
Kyle smacked his lips, “I can’t stand a humble ass nigga! Brag on yoself—aye!” he laughed. “Next time I see you, you betta be like Dreya hea’ wit a damn icey ass grill in yo mouth—aye, Dreya show dat bish to the camera,” he pointed to the side of her.
She looked then, smiled, pulling the corner of her lip with her pinky, showing off every diamond that decorated her teeth.
“Sheesh! Y’all young niggas flya denna bih,” Landon chuckled. “Aight,” the camera panned back towards the host. “Since the audience wanted you bad, we asked them to sorta be the host for the day, and we got questions from them dat we gonna ask thru the interview,” he said, looking at his laptop to view the questions.
“Aight,” Landon started. “kendraswrld asked what started your rap career?“
The camera then refocused on Jeremiah who had his hand rubbing his chin as he thought about his answer, “Well, first, thank you kendraswrld, annnddd you could say it started back in middle school, when niggas was freestylin’ at lunch, n niggas was beatin’ on the table with pencils n shit,” he chuckled.
“Facts, we used ta be lit!” Lamar added from the back.
“Man…” Jeremiah smiled. “I started takin’ an interest then, but it got serious in school. You could say I was back with the soundcloud era of niggas but right before then, I was in high school. It was the first time I put out a real song n not jus’ like a luh video freestylin’ ova a beat,” he nodded.
“Aye, them used to be the times in lunch period,” Kyle laughed. “What kinda student was you? I feel like you probably got in trouble a lot.”
“Hell nah,” Jeremiah laughed. “I was a pretty good kid far as schoo’—I’m in the minority, but I like schoo’. I love goin’ ta see my frens, I love playin’ ball n bein’ active, n I love learnin’. I’ve always loved learnin’. My favorite subject is math and science. Imma nerd. I mean… I did have some fights, but like overall, am I one of ’em niggas et jus’ be causin’ ruckus, hell nah,” Jeremiah chuckled.
“Okay, nigga einstine!” Kyle joked, making everyone in the room laugh.
“Aight, next question is from… JustChazzz , and she asked… do you have any dream collaborations? Oos das a good question,” Landon nodded.
“Hell, yeah,” Kyle agreed, then the camera turned back to Jeremiah.
He sighed, “Oo, yes—Uzi, Juice, Weezy of course. I’m a big fan of these underground girls too. I would do a song with Rico Nasty, Bali Baby, n I like et Big Ole Freak song wit that thick-ass girl too. I like mixin’ my shit up. I actually gotta collab comin’ out wit a female artist named Baby Kay, she from the city, n iss song is fa the ladies fasho,” Jeremiah chuckled.
“Okay, young Hugh Hef!” Kyle joked.
“Man,” Landon laughed. “Okay, next question is from __kynnn askin’ Can you walk us through your writin’ process?”
“I love dat one,” Kyle spoke.
Jeremiah sighed, “Well, I really jus’… go inna boof,” he chuckled. “I freestyle a lot of my music,” he answered.
“Do you now?” Landon asked. “You already know what we gonna ask you then,” he smiled.
“I’m already knowin’,” Jeremiah smiled.
“Okay, give us sum then—n Ronnie cue up the beat!”
“Okay bet,” Jeremiah agreed. He was nervous as hell, but he wouldn’t back down from a challenge.
The beat started and Jeremiah started bobbing his head, catching the beat as his head started thinking of lyrics.
“Stick a nigga inna fuckin’chest, I cut his throat.
Ion give a fuck about that vest,” Jeremiah laughed, then went back to rapping.
“Imma demon—a jinn.
Word ta my muslim bro, he just got out the pen.
I sed let’s hit the road, go ta Vegas, and let’s sin.
Put da .40 ta yo kidney—you wit the almighty again.
Yeah, I said again—remember Imma demon—I kill you, bring you back, and fill yo bitch up wit my semen,
N Ion gotta reason
The bitch started creamin’,
So I hit from da front n the back. Miah—Woody tag teamin’.
That coochie.
I like Gucci.
My bitch—she in all Pucci.
N if I wanna take it back, I’m rockin’ Coogi
Iss Woody onna track, not Miah.
Bitch, you thought you knew me
I’m looney–like the fuckin’ toon.
They call me Woody Bugs Bunny–I’m the MC—notchu.
I rock blue,
Ian a crip tho,
I was referring ta the money in my pocket–that got these jewels.
You a fool, n yo bitch know. She suck me every chance she get–she my luh nympho.
I’m gettin’ rich hoe
I need me a mufucka that can hold the money, while I hold my pistol.
I can keep goin’ on es bitch all day. iss really nothin’.” Jeremiah chuckled, and Landon stood up and aggressively dapped Jeremiah up.
“My nigga about to be BIG!” Landon told him, then sat down. “Y’all heard it hea’ first on HOT 93 radio, my nigga Woody Kent got bars, nigga!”
Taylor dapped Jeremiah up, smiling big, then Lamar, Dreya, and Meilie just squealed in excitement, recording on her phone and posting it to her story, so she could flex on her followers.
“Facts, and we got even more questions from your fans, so let’s get into it,” Kyle started, maneuvering the conversation. “iiillya4life asked Which league team are you interested in playing for?”
“Ooo, I love that one too,” Landon nodded.
“Oh, shit–y’all put me on the spot.” Jeremiah chuckled. “Well, I would be happy ta play fa any team,” he smiled.
Landon smacked his lips, “Dis nigga gave a PR answer, ain’t dat a bih,” he shook his head, making both Kyle and Jeremiah crack up.
“_deidraaa asked What are some of your favorite songs right now? By other people I’m assumin’,” Kyle asked, scrolling down on his computer.
“Ooo, right now?” Jeremiah asked. He then started chuckling, “I been listenin’ ta hella RNB… like I love et new Summer Walker album Over It. My shit on ‘er is the one wit Jhene Aiko… You know what’s crazy, I like all genres besides rap, like I been listenin’ ta es group called… Pierce the Veil,” he chuckled. “They are like es… emo, punk rock–typa shit. Ion even know, but they music is loud, n I like dat… I like the lyrics of they songs too. You know I feel like mufuckas, far as niggas,” he pointed to himself. “I feel like we would relate a lot to ‘ese mufuckas lyrics like it talks about a lotta pain, n I be relatin’ ta et shit,” he nodded.
“I’m shocked at the answer, so no rap?” Landon asked.
“Of course, it is, on my daily it’s always Juice, Chief Keef. I really like Sada Baby, n I love detroit, Chicago, n up norf rap right now–Philly, all ’em typa areas,” Jeremiah added.
“Okay… next, REALEASTBARBIE asked Do you have any love interest or someone you got yo eyes on? Yeah, Woody, you gotta lucky lady in yo life?” Kyle asked.
Averting his eyes, Jeremiah smirked, “Ummm, I’m single, but… I do have someone that… is special ta me,” he nodded. “Very special, n I wish them well right now.”
“Oh, shit–she somebody else lady?” Landon asked.
Jeremiah licked his lips, “Sum like et,” he smirked, biting down on his lip and nodding.
•••
After the interview, the crew decided to explore downtown Atlanta.
They were currently at the mall, and Taylor and Jeremiah found themselves in line for some wings by themselves while the others went to other places for food.
The group would meet up when everyone had their food. “So, how you feel, Woody?” Taylor asked beside him, making Jeremiah smirk, “You can hur me wit them on?” he pointed to his headphones.
“Yeah, ain’t no music playin’. I jus’… they jus’ make me feel more at peace,” Jeremiah nodded.
“So how you feel?”
Jeremiah shrugged, “I’m still takin’ it in,” he sighed. “I’m grateful as hell tho,” he smiled.
Taylor just smiled even bigger, putting his arm around Jeremiah and hugging him. “I’m proud of you, Miah… n I’m happy you brought me out hur witchu–finally feelin’ like a nigga fren,” he smacked his lips.
“Don’t do et, Tay,” Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “You know you my nigga.”
“So, why it feel like you always gotta wall up witta nigga. I get otha niggas, but not me,” Taylor told him.
Jeremiah sighed, “I–” he paused. “Ion mean ta have one up iss jus’… thur shit about me that… I hate talkin’ about,” he sighed again.
“Like your autism?” Taylor asked, making Jeremiah raise a brow.
“How the fuck?”
“I can tell the signs, my little sister is autistic. She got a big ass bright pink pair of headphones, jus’ like ’em. She say it makes ha feel betta too, blocks out all the noise,” Taylor explained.
“Well…” Jeremiah started. “Yes… es partly why,” he shrugged. “I jus’… Niggas treat me a idiot afta findin’ out, n I hate that shit, bad, Tay,” he told him.
Taylor sighed, “Jeremiah, I’d neva thank any less of you cuz of et. How could any nigga thank you stupid, considering everythang. Look at all you’ve done,” he told him genuinely. “You the smartest nigga I know, most talented nigga I know, n I genuinely mean et from the heart,” Taylor put his hands over his chest.
Jeremiah looked away, “Stop fa you really make me cry, Taylor,” he blinked a bit, feeling his eyes get a little wet.
“I love you, man,” Taylor smiled, putting his arm over Jeremiah’s shoulder.
“I love you too, Tay,” Jeremiah smiled widely.
•••
a few days later
Meilie mind was leaving her body as gripped the sheets while Dreya was gripping under her knees, pushing them into the bed while she sat on her knees, fucking her.
“Shit, nigga,” Meilie chuckled a bit, then let out a moan, feeling the toy go even deeper inside of her. “Dreya, baby,” she moaned looking up at Dreya as she continued to slowly circle her hips, slowly thrusting the dildo in and out of her.
Outside of the door, Jeremiah walked up to it. He wasn’t paying attention, for he was looking down at his phone as well as his headphones were on full blast as he turned the knob on Dreya’s door.
“Drey—woah…” Jeremiah chuckled, looking away.
“Jeremiah, what the fuck?” Dreya groaned, and Meilie just laughed too, feeling Dreya pull out of her. “Get the fuck out,” she told him, and Jeremiah backed out, closing the door.
“My legs are sore,” she giggled, getting up to clean herself up.
“I mean, y’all coulda continued,” Jeremiah joked.
Dreya scoffed as she went to her bathroom as well to put on some basketball shorts and a wife beater.
“Come in, goofy ass nigga,” Dreya told him as Meilie and her exited her bathroom and sat on the bed. “Whatchu want?” she asked as Jeremiah came in and sat on her couch.
He sighed, looking at Meilie in particular. “I miss Micah,” he confessed.
Meilie smiled, then pouted, “Me too.”
“I was thinkin’… you know, wit everythang he got goin’, I jus’ want him ta come home n feel… special, wanted.”
“And loved,” Meilie added on and Jeremiah nodded. “So what was you thankin’, a party?”
Jeremih nodded again, “Yeah… welcome home party. I would invite us clurly, the basketball team, Coach, his grandparents… my dad,” he told her.
“Junie n Kari probably would want ta come too,” Meilie spoke.
Jeremiah shrugged, “Whoeva—and I wanna perform. Me n es otha artist Baby Kay releasin’ es freak type song.”
“Witcho daddy, Coach, n his grandparents thur?” Dreya butted in.
“So?” Jeremiah shrugged again. “We all grown. We know whyr babies come frum,” he chuckled.
Dreya rolled her eyes, rubbing Meilie’s arm. “You so in love with et nigga.”
Jeremiah just smiled, shrugging one last time.
•••
a few more days later
“Hey, Mr & Mrs Parks!” Meilie waved as she stood in the door of Micah’s grandparent’s home.
Standing next to her was Junie as they held bags of art supplies. Meilie reached out to his grandparents after exchanging numbers at the hospital, just to check on them. They told her that Micah would be living with them for a while after he got released, and Meilie asked if she could paint his room.
Since they owned their house, his grandparents agreed, and Meilie had Junie tag along to help paint the mural.
“Hello, Miss Meilie, n you are?” his grandmother, Nicole asked Junie.
“My name Junie, Mrs Parks,” she greeted her.
Nicole only smiled, “Well, welcome Junie and Meilie,” she moved over so the girls could come inside.
“Nice ta see you again Meilie, n nice ta meetchu Junie,” Michael smiled at them as he went into the kitchen. “You ladies want some ribs?” he asked.
“Ooh, yes sir,” Junie answered, and Meilie agreed. “Ian know Micah grandparents lived inna hood,” Junie chuckled.
“Gurl, shutup,” Meilie sighed as they sat on the couch.
Nicole sighed, “Can I ask you somethin’?” she asked, looking at Meilie.
Meilie nodded instantly, “Of course, Mrs Parks, ask me anythang.”
“Well… what do you think of his girlfren… Kelia?” Nicole asked.
Shocked by the question, Meilie’s mouth dropped open, but then she sighed, “Well… ta be honest… Ion really have many thoughts about her—I think her and Micah have both made mistakes in their relationship, n I think what she—wait, you know about that right?”
“That whore came ova hur crine on my damn couch, sayin’ how she fucked up and had sex with Michael the third!” Nicole snapped.
Junie and Meilie just both looked at one another. “Oh, shit—es is messy,” Junie smacked her lips.
“Yeah… I defly don’t condone et at all… but I don’t hate her,” Meilie spoke honestly. “I jus’ think the best thing is fa her n Micah ta… not be together n be with people that will be good to them,” she nodded.
Nicole sighed as Michael came out carrying a tray of ribs with a tray of sides, setting them down on the table.
“We like ta eat as a family ova hur,” he smiled at the two.
Meilie just smiled as Junie’s mouth started watering from the smell of the ribs.
“I love y’all,” Meilie giggled.
Nicole and Michael just smiled at her. “We love you too, honey,” she told her. “And we’re more glad ta have you in our grandson’s life.”
•••
a week later
Smiling, Micah walked out of his facility, seeing Meilie jumping up and down. “MICAH!” she ran up to him, jumping on her and hugging her.
Micah just squeezed her tightly, carrying her to the other group of people he saw waiting for him. “I missed you,” she kissed his cheek.
“I missed you even more, Mei,” he told her. He kept walking, seeing his grandparents and… Jeremiah. He was kind of surprised to see him, but at the same time, he wasn’t because he knew how Jeremiah felt about him…
It still scared him.
He was slightly okay, but he was still broken, and he thought Jeremiah deserved better than him.
Micah knew he needed way more therapy.
“Wassup, everybody,” Micah smiled wide, putting Meilie down, so he could first hug his grandparents very tightly. “I love y’all so much. Thank you fa bein’ hur fa me,” he sniffled a bit.
“My baby,” his grandmother kissed his cheek. “We fixed up your room fa you,” she told him, patting his back and kissing his cheek.
Micah would be going to stay with them instead of his parents. He already talked to them about it during his weekly phone calls, and they agreed immediately.
“Thank you, so much,” he told them, then pulled back, seeing his grandfather look up at him with a smile and tears in his eyes.
“Welcome back my boy—don’t scare us like et no more, okay?” Michael, his grandfather told him.
He nodded, “Yes, sir,” Micah smirked.
“Aight, talk ta yo fren,” Michael patted his arm.
He looked over to Jeremiah. He walked over to him, seeing the others head towards Meilie’s car. She drove his grandparents there.
“Wassup,” Micah smiled as he greeted him, looking into his eyes.
“Wassup,” Jeremiah stared back, with his lip in between his teeth. “Come hur,” he waved him over with his finger.
Micah just smiled, wrapping his arms around Jeremiah’s torso, squeezing him even tighter, almost feeling emotional by their contact.
Jeremiah put his hands gently on Micah’s back, holding him more gently. “I missed you,” he spoke in his ear.
“I missed you too,” Micah said back.
He wanted so badly to kiss him, but… he couldn’t.
Micah pulled back, feeling Jeremiah put his forehead on against his. “How you been?” Micah asked.
“I’ve been good,” Jeremiah smiled, making Micah’s face heat up. “Even betta now,” he nodded.
Micah smiled, “You fine as fuck, boy.”
“Wh-what?” Jeremiah chuckled.
Micah shook his head, heading towards his car that he already recognized. “Nun,” he chuckled, hopping inside.
“Who said you comin’ wit me?” Jeremiah raised a brow, getting into the driver’s seat.
“I can do what the fuck I wanna,” Micah told him, leaning his seat back and putting his seatbelt on.
Jeremiah just reached over and kissed Micah on the cheek, making him whip his head towards Jeremiah who was still close to him with his hand on the wheel. “Why you kissin’ on me?”
“Cuz you look pretty,” Jeremiah responded with no hesitation.
Micah sighed and shook his head as Fuck it… I tried my best… He thought to himself before he grabbed Jeremiah’s face and connected their lips together.
“Thank you,” Micah spoke on his lips before licking over them, sucking one into his mouth.
Jeremiah only kept his eyes slightly open, shocked by his behavior. He kissed him back, starting to put his hand over Micah’s neck, but he stopped. “It’s okay,” Micah told him, putting Jeremiah’s hand there himself.
“Mmm,” Jeremiah hummed in Micah’s mouth, closing his eyes completely when Micah shoved his tongue in his mouth. He added light pressure to his neck, causing a small moan to escape Micah’s lips.
“Hmmm,” Micah hummed too, making Jeremiah bite and pull his bottom lip.
“I’a fuck you in es cah, Micah. Whatchu tryna do?” he asked in between kisses, moving his hand to Micah’s thigh, touching his growing erection and giving it a squeeze that only made Micah gasp a bit.
He pulled back, just staring at Jeremiah with a smile, “Nun,” he told him, moving Jeremiah’s hand from off of his thigh. “Aight, less go,” he shook his head, biting down on his lip to stop the smile that Jeremiah was giving him.
•••
Jeremiah arrived at Micah’s grandparents’ house just after Meilie pulled up. He parked the car in their driveway, got out of the car, and went to the other side to open Micah’s door.
“You do too much,” Micah smacked his lips, getting out of the car.
Jeremiah just chuckled, “Dam, niggas can’t be friendly?”
“Friendly dis dick, nigga,” Micah spat back.
“Essa bet,” Jeremiah nodded, and Micah didn’t have anything left to say. He just shook his head, biting down on his lip, thinking about the time Jeremiah gave him head.
The two headed to the front door, walking inside after his grandparents and Meilie. “Welcome home, Micah,” Nicole told him, smiling.
Meilie grabbed Micah’s hand, jumping up and down excitedly. “It seem like Mei wants ta for you ta jus’ see your room,” Michael chuckled.
Jeremiah only smiled, seeing Micah smile.
It was going perfectly. That’s all everyone wanted is for Micah to come home to something positive.
They knew it was stuff that they couldn’t protect him from, and that his parents wouldn’t just back away, nor would him not acknowledging his fiance and brother would make the problem just disappear… but at least…
At least for now, they could put a smile on his face and help him not go to that place again that made him decide to take his own life.
“Okay,” Micah chuckled. “I’m starvin’ too, paw paw,” he nodded.
“Oh, you know Imma cook fa you, son,” Michael told him as everyone started heading to his room that was down the hall a couple doors over from his grandparents.
“Jeremiah, cover Micah’s eyes please!” Meilie instructed him.
Jeremiah just sighed and did what she said, “Wait…” Micah chuckled in confusion, feeling Jeremiah cover his eyes. “The fuck–sorry, granny n pawpaw.”
Michael only laughed, “Iss okay, son–we all sailors in hur.”
“Okay, bring him innnnn,” Meilie told Jeremiah, who told Micah to start walking forward.
Jeremiah looked around the room, shocked, for it was his first time seeing it too.
On one wall, there was a beautiful surrealist mural of Micah flying on an eagle with a basketball in his hand, soaring through a blue sky to a giant basketball rim.
Then, in one corner, there was a desk, set up with art supplies and some of his pieces that he made in class. They got put in the oven that you bake the clay in, and Meilie brought them to his home.
There was a vase a roses sitting on the desk, his jersey hanging up on the wall with a miniature basketball rim on the door.
Meilie tried to decorate it with things he liked without being able to go to his old home.
“Okay, open!” Meilie told Jeremiah who then let go of his eyes.
Micah blinked, letting his eyes adjust, then looked around the room. “Shit…” he looked around. “Damn, you did et?” he pointed to the wall, walking close. “Mei, fuck, es is so fuckin’–” he turned around, looking down at her, then wrapped her in his arms, almost giving her a bear hug.
“Well, me n Junie painted it,” Meilie said, wrapping her arms around him.
Micah just smiled, looking around his room.
Although it was small, it looked amazing, and he knew it would probably feel that way too.
“Wow… I’m speechless honestly,” Micah sighed.
“Whatchu wanna eat, Micah?” Michael asked, stepping into the room.
Micah looked over to him, shrugging. “Whateva you feed me,” he nodded.
Michael just laughed, “Okay, me n your granny are gonna head to the store.”
“Okay,” Micah smiled as he still clung onto Meilie, watching his grandparents leave the room.
After they left, the three of them sat down on Micah’s bed with him in the middle. “Why y’all give a fuck about me so much?” he asked, looking between them both.
“Why shouldn’t we?” Jeremiah raised a brow.
“I’m askin’ the same thang,” Meilie agreed.
Micah sighed, “Ion know… I feel like Ion deserve it.”
“Well, stop, Micah,” she told him. “You deserve ta be loves, ta be treated kind, you deserve…” she held her hand out gesturing to his room. “All es… n more n whateva you want, you deserve,” she told him.
“It’s hard ta know et when yo whole life, you–” he stopped, feeling Jeremiah put an arm around him.
“We know, and I know fasho that it’s hard acceptin’ love when you ain’t neva got it at home,” Meilie told him.
“I know a luh what iss like too,” Jeremiah nodded, rubbing Micah’s arm. “But… et don’t mean you don’t deserve it jus’ because otha niggas who was supposed ta make you feel love failed to,” he told Micah.
Micah just took in all their words. He tried to process them, and he knew it would take time before he actually believed them.
•••
later that night
Micah, Meilie, and Jeremiah spent almost the rest of the day together.
Micah told everyone that he wanted a couple of days to himself and that he didn’t want anyone to know he was home yet, and they all agreed.
Luckily for Meilie and Jermeiah, the party they had planned for him was in a week.
Meilie went home first, for she had to go to work in the morning, and his grandparents had already retired for the night.
That left Jeremiah and Micah who sat on the living room couch.
Jeremiah had stood up, checking his phone, seeing it was late, “Aight, I think Imma head out too,” he told him.
Micah looked up at him, “Wait… Miah…” he stood up, grabbing his wrist. “Stay wimme, jus’ fa tanight,” he looked him in the eyes.
Licking his lips, Jeremiah looked away, “You know I’m weak ta them eyes,” he smirked, looking back at him. He nodded, “Okay.”
A small smile spread across Micah’s face as he then led them to his new room.
Once they were in there, he started stripping his clothes, catching Jeremiah off guard. “Micah!” he whisper-yelled. “You tryna fuck in yo grandparents crib–less go back ta the dorm!” he told him.
Micah just turned around, laughing, “Who sed I wanted ta do et, freaky fuck,” he scoffed. “Ion got no clothes hur, n Ian sleepin’ in et shit,” he smiled. “Neitha are you gettin’ on my sheets wit et shit on, so strip.”
Jeremiah shook his head, “You trouble,” he told him as he started unbuckling his pants, seeing Micah sit down on his bed, watching Jeremiah’s eyes move. “Hell nah,” he started feeling a bit shy, and so he turned around.
He continued taking off his clothes off. “Now, niggas is pussy,” Micah chuckled.
“Who?!” Jeremiah swiftly turned around.
“You!” Micah pointed at him, “Pussy!”
Jeremiah rolled his eyes, “Man, please. I’a get ass neked.”
“So do it, pussy,” Micah taunted him.
Jeremiah scoffed, taking off his underwear, then his shirt. He bit down on his lip when he saw Micah’s eyes drop down to his dick.
“Damn…” Micah said to himself.
A smirk formed on Jeremiah’s lips as he started walking over to Micah, standing in front of him.
Micah looked up at him, suddenly feeling nervous, “Who pussy now?” Jeremiah asked, crawling into the bed, and hovering over Micah.
He grabbed his hands, pinning them above his head, “Maybe, we shoulda we back ta the dorms,” Micah whispered.
Jeremiah nodded, “Uh huh, iss too late now,” he got close to Micah’s ear. “You jus’ gon’ hafta be quiet,” he whispered, letting go of one hand to run his hand down Micah’s body until he got to his underwear. “You understand?” he asked, looking back into his eyes.
Micah bit down on his lip, nodding. “Mhm,” he hummed, then let out a gasp when he felt Jeremiah’s hand slip down his pants.
“I understand,”
to be continued…
•••
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