Chapter 22

THE NEXT DAY

“MY NIGGA!” Lamar yelled through the phone in excitement.

Jeremiah was currently brushing his teeth in Taylor’s bathroom as he had his phone propped up against the mirror, held up by the sink.

It buzzed, causing his phone to almost get drowned by the stream of water as Jeremiah rinsed off his toothbrush. “Fuck,” he cursed, then hurried to grab his phone before it got water damage. “N why you yellin’, nigga? Iss’ early as fuck!” Jeremiah told him.

He had come back there in the morning when Taylor had invited him for an afternoon gym session, and he had left some of his things there, so he wanted to grab them before returning to campus.

Jeremiah planned on going back to the dorms today. He was excited as fuck.

I can’t wait to see my baby. He thought to himself. I love Micah so much, it’s crazy.

I just wanna kiss on him until his face turns bright red, from him blushing.

He looked in the mirror, eyeing his haircut, noticing that it wasn’t as crispy as it was a couple of days ago, so he ignored the text that Lamar had just sent him and texted his barber instead, seeing if he could get a last-minute appointment.

“Bruh, the TikTok shorty posted of the Freaky boy song got like five hunnit thow!” Lamar spoke excitedly through the phone.

Meanwhile, Jeremiah was completely focused on his appearance, now flexing his arms in the mirror. I need to hit the fucking gym.

This pandemic shit got me fucked up. I’m tryna look good for my boo.

He then started wiping his fingers over his slightly grown-in mustache. I’m such a baby-faced ass nigga. I barely look eighteen!

“Jeremiah!” Lamar yelled out, catching his best friend’s attention, finally. “Nigga, you hear anything a nigga said?”

Jeremiah picked up his phone, looking at the screen. “Whatchu say, cuz?”

Lamar smacked his lips. “I should jus’ hang up on yo bitch ass.” He then flicked him off, putting his phone onto the phone holder he got for his car as the light turned green.

Jeremiah just laughed. “Bruh, c’mon. Whatchu hollin’ atta nigga fa?” He asked.

“Maybe a nigga would know if you wasn’t starin’ n flexin’ in the mufuckin’ mirror fa thirty minutes. Nigga, Micah ain’t hur!” Lamar told him. “Speakin’ of… is et why you yo goofy ahh been smilin’ since I got on the phone… Nigga’s ain’t cracked a smile in like two weeks!”

“And you the mufucka that caused me not ta smile fa two weeks!” Jeremiah snapped back.

Jeremiah saw Lamar roll his eyes, then refocus on the road. “Nigga, if Ian tell you sum shit like et, n you found out, you was gon’be fyed the fuck up. Don’t cap, cuz!”

Shrugging, Jeremiah chuckled a bit. “You right. Nigga, I woulda been blazin’! On my daddy, you ain’t gon’ tell me if my shorty duckin’ off onna nigga? Hell nah!” Jeremiah laughed.

“Exactly!” Lamar scoffed. “Anyway, what lame ass excuse a nigga give you ta have you smilin’?” Lamar asked Jeremiah.

Jeremiah smacked his lips, “He said shorty kissed him, n he pushed her offa him. I guess you caught ’em at a bad moment.” Jeremiah shrugged.

“Nigga, what?” Lamar said, confused. “A mufucka sar thur fa a minute tho, so even if she did kiss him first, he waited,” Lamar gave his point of view.

…which made Jeremiah question his previous statement. A seed of doubt has been growing, but it wasn’t planted just now.

It was planted a while ago, maybe even the first night they had sex, and Micah looked at Jeremiah like he was the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen… but Jeremiah had already had feelings by then, even though he didn’t know…

For Jeremiah, it was too late. He was already enchanted by Micah Parks.

“Hmm,” Jeremiah hummed. His smile was gone now. His face was a neutral one.

“Ian tryna bum you out, my nigga, but Ion want no nigga doggin’ you either!” Lamar continued. “I know how niggas be wit they BMs.” Lamar smacked his lips, shaking his head.

Jeremiah had his back towards the mirror, resting on the sink. “I hur you… I gotta think on it.”

“Fasho! Ian tryna tell you what ta do, but Ian tryna sugarcoat shit neither. You feel me?” Lamar told him.

“Fasho, I love et aboutchu, bro. You know you can always keep it a hunnit wimme, and I appreciate you always lookin’ out for a nigga… It’s just hard cuz… I feel like Micah is my first love fareal-“

“Duh, nigga,” Lamar interjected.

Jeremiah furrowed his brows. “Fuck you mean, duh, nigga?” he scoffed.

“I said what I meant, nigga! I know puppy boy is yo first love, pimp named slick back!”

Jeremiah busted out laughing. “Shut the fuck up,” he chuckled, waving him off.

“Jeremiah! You almost done, brody?” Taylor asked through the door.

“My bad, yeah!” Jeremiah yelled back, then looked at his phone. “Imma hitchu later, thank you, love you,” Jeremiah said to Lamar.

“Love you too, brudda, bye,” Lamar responded, then Jeremiah hung the phone up.

He swiped down, seeing all of his notifications, none from Micah.

Maybe he was just drunk talking…

He clicked on his contact, staring at it with his thumb hovering over the call button.

Jeremiah could feel his heart start to race. He wondered why he felt so much anxiety.

As he was about to just say fuck it and hit the button, he jumped out of his skin, hearing Taylor knock on the door once again. “Jeremiah, I gotta piss, bruh!” He yelled through the door.

Jeremiah rushed and put his phone in his basketball shorts, opening the door. “My bad, Tay Tay,” he chuckled, and Taylor playfully pushed him for the nickname before fully pushing Jeremiah out of the bathroom and slamming the door.

As he was walking to the hallway closet, where his duffel bags full of clothes were, his phone started ringing again.

It was Malik, his producer, mentor, and Jeremiah felt like he was even becoming a big-brother figure.

“Hey, Malik,” Jeremiah greeted, seeing Malik’s face on his screen, with his normal scowl.

“You know you put a mufuckin’ hole in my wall, strong ass, basketball playin’ ass nigga?” Malik scoffed with a smirk. “You lucky my nigga rich, cuz I was heated.” He laughed.

Jeremiah’s eyes went wide. He was confused at first, but then he thought about the last time he was there. He remembered how he slammed the door hard because he was so angry. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry, OG. I will pay you back. W-whateva yo husband spent, Imma give it back. A nigga was goin’ thru it that day, Malik. I’m sorry,” he stuttered a bit over his words.

“You good, fammo! Ian rey cap, I was heated cuz a nigga came from nadda, Jeremiah, and I almost look at my shop as one of my kids. I put a lot of blood, sweat, n turs in es mufucka, outside of my nigga buying the buildin’. Es the only thang he did fa me. Everything else, I worked hard fa, n a nigga is a luh sensitive, but I know my young nigga ain’t do it on purpose. I know what type of nigga you are, Jeremiah. You a good nigga, very sweet. Very unlike my mean ass, keep bein’ et way,” Malik chuckled, making Jeremiah smirk a bit. “But et ain’t why I called you. I called you because et luh song you did wit shorty is poppin’ so much a nigga from a big record label hit me up,” he told Jeremiah with excitement in his eyes.

Jeremiah’s eyes went wide. “Huh?” He blinked. “A r-record label? Nigga, you lyin’!”

Malik smacked his lips, “Nigga! I do alotta shit: rob, steal, kill, but ion lie!” He laughed, and Jeremiah started jumping up and down, excitedly.

“Nigga, I’m rey be the next Jay Z out es mufucka!” Jeremiah yelled, and Malik was on the other side of the phone, excitedly jumping too.

“He wanna be yo manager-“ Malik started.

“Okay-wait,” Jeremiah paused, looking back at the camera. “I thought you was gon’ be my manager…” Jeremiah almost spoke in a saddened tone.

Malik sighed, “You know I want to, but-“

“But what?” Jeremiah interrupted. “Ion trust ‘ese niggas.”

“Jeremiah, lemme talk,” Malik told him sternly. “At the end of the day, I want wuss best fa you, n es nigga has direct access ta the people that can get you ta the level I know you deserve ta be. And, I have four kids, Jeremiah. Lemme be real witchu. My first two daughters, their mother is gone. They know my husband, but nigga, my oldest is still fucked up from et shit. She still fucked up from me bein’ in prison for the first two years of her life.” He sighed. “I’m sayin’ es ta say that I believe in you so fuckin’ much, n I know that I just can’t give you the attention you need from me ta take you ta the level you deserve. That’s what I’m sayin’, Jeremiah. Listen ta yo OG,” Malik finished.

“I hur you,” Jeremiah said with his eyes wet. “Y-you really thank I can make it?” he asked, his voice shaking a bit.

Jeremiah truly loved to make music, but he never thought that he was talented enough to be a big star.

“Nigga, I think the only nigga that could ever hold you back from anything is you. Jeremiah, you deadass a one-of-a-kind talent. You rey go pro, n a nigga rey be a rap star. You can do whateva,” Malik answered. “N stop cryin’ fa I start cryin’ n shit,” he said, wiping his eyes that were already wet.

Jeremiah chuckled a bit, wiping his eyes. “Okay, I’m listenin’ ta you, OG. You ain’t did me wrong yet, so I trust yo decision.” Jeremiah nodded.

Malik smiled through the phone. “AIGHT, CUZ! ES WHAT I LIKE TA HUR!”

“Oh, my god, you a country ass nigga,” Jeremiah joked.

“Nigga, I know yo hibilly headass ain’t talkin’! Gotta do double takes n shit cuz niggas sound like mufuckin’ Billy Ray Cysus-texas ranger talkin’ ass nigga. Dolly Parton ass nigga-” Malik started to roast Jeremiah.

“Aye-aye, I gotta go, text me the details, bye, nigga.” Jeremiah hung up on him. “Is every nigga I’m around crazy as fuck, includin’ me?” he asked himself.

He then shrugged, smiling at the good news.

Jeremiah pulled out his phone, wanting to excitedly talk to Micah about it. He went to his contact, hitting the call button this time.

He waited…

It rang…

Micah never answered.

Jeremiah sighed, feeling his knee start bouncing up and down.

He started to really feel as if everything Micah told him last night was a lie.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

On the other side of town, Micah sat in the cold waiting room, hardly breathing through the mask that smothered his face, but also protected him from the deadly virus that was killing thousands by the day.

In his mind, all that kept replaying was the scream that filled his ears when he answered the phone for Kelia late into the night.

Micah hurried to put his clothes on once she told him that she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. A pain unlike any other pain she had experienced thus far.

He rushed over, without anything other than himself, and he drove Kelia to the hospital.

They have been in the hospital since last night.

Micah slept in the cold waiting area, since nobody was allowed to be in the patients’ rooms, due to the ongoing pandemic.

Now, Micah was sore, sitting upright in a hard chair, hardly breathing with his mask on, his anxiety making it worse… while thinking of how it was his fault that this was happening.

He just knew. Micah knew what was about to happen, and he was trying to prepare himself for the pain that came with it… even if at first, he wasn’t the most excited about being a parent.

Micah just wanted something for himself, for once. He wanted to have something, to love something without it disappearing… or…

“You’re Micah?” He looked up, getting his thoughts cut off, seeing the doctor holding the clipboard.

The pounding of his heartbeat got louder.

Micah looked up, feeling the pain in his neck from sitting up so long. “Uh, y-yes, sir. Is everything okay?” He asked, swallowing hard and clenching his teeth. I just know it’s not…

“I’m so sorry, Miss Monroe did experience a stillbirth. We had to perform an emergency C-section…” After that, Micah stopped listening. He just knew it.

He felt as if he had bad luck. Everyone that he was supposed to love would eventually be taken away from him. It didn’t matter who it was, in whatever form.

Micah was in a daze. “Is she o-okay?” He asked, cutting off the doctor, not even looking directly at the man, only staring out the window of the drab hospital.

“Physically, yes.” The doctor answered. “We are trying to set it up so that you can see her. Due to the pandemic, it’s a bit complicated, but I think your presence is needed, Mr. Parks,” he told Micah. “I’m sorry for your loss. I promise, we did everything we could to save your fiancé and your child.”

Micah couldn’t even form tears at this point. It was almost as if his brain had accepted that his life was doomed.

“Okay,” was all Micah could muster. “Can you take me to her?” he asked low, feeling his whole body slightly shaking.

“Yes, sir,” the doctor told him. “Please follow me, and she’s sleeping right now, just to inform you.”

Micah stood up, quietly following behind the man in blue scrubs.

It was like everything around him slowed down, and they were the only two left in the hospital, almost as if he were in a horror film.

That’s what his life felt like sometimes, a horror film.

They silently went up to the emergency room, heading to room 303, coincidentally.

Jeremiah flashed through Micah’s mind for a split moment, not remembering if he had really spoken to him. He was wasted last night, and the only thing he clearly remembers is that he was on the floor, thinking he had a drunken wet dream about Jeremiah, when he heard the sounds of Kelia’s screams.

Before that, he had blacked out.

He felt embarrassed at that moment. Micah had quickly gotten himself together, and his thoughts went back and forth from the baby to how pitiful he felt for getting off to a man who hates him. At least, that’s how it felt to him… as if Jeremiah hated him.

It made him feel like his pride was being attacked, although it was internal. I was beating off to a nigga, while my fiancé was having a fucking miscarriage.

What the fuck is my life?

Micah reached down to grab his phone from his pocket, checking previous calls to see if it did in fact happen, but his phone wasn’t there.

Fuck, I left it in Meilie’s room.

“Here we are,” the doctor broke him from his rampant psyche. “We will be back to check in on her, just to clean her up, and check her insisions and give her some needed fluids.”

Micah just nodded. “Okay,” he said low.

He didn’t even want to look at Kelia in the moment. Micah felt guilty.

Throughout her whole pregnancy, they have been fighting, arguing, always at odds. Micah knew she was also going through it with her family… he then started thinking about all the other things she could’ve been dealing with, such as classes, managing her socials, dealing with mean-ass, jealous girls who wanted her life, him, and shaming her for being pregnant.

Micah sighed, feeling his eyes get wet as he looked at her sleeping face.

She looked as if she was holding onto her blanket.

Micah bit down on his lip, looking down at the gray tile floor. He sat down in the chair near the window. The sky was gray, reflecting his somber mood, the color of the hospital, the tile floor… everything was lifeless.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Lia,” he said low to himself, leaning against her hospital bed. “If only a nigga woulda jus’…” he paused. “…put our differences aside.”

He felt confused about his statement because… who was he talking to?

Kelia or Jeremiah?

He shook his head, leaning back into the chair, watching Kelia as she slept.

Soon, his eyes got heavy from the inconsistent sleep he had in the waiting room, and he joined her in sleeping.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

“I miss you, Jeremiah…” Micah’s words kept replaying in Jeremiah’s mind. “Jeremiah,” he kept hearing his name being called by him in his head.

“I need you.”

No, you don’t. You don’t even want me.

“Jeremiah.” He heard his name again. “Jeremiah!” He jumped, feeling a hand on his shoulder.

Jeremiah looked up to see Taylor. He was currently staring at his phone as the two boys sat on the bench inside the school gym.

Only the athletes were allowed to be on campus at the moment, due to all of the competitions that were still… up in the air.

The boys still had to take a test to see if they were sick every few days, and they were strictly encouraged not to go anywhere.

Taylor had asked Jeremiah if they wanted to get a quick workout in before they had practice in a couple of days.

Jeremiah was always up for a workout, plus, it would help him take his mind and his eyes off his phone for just a moment, looking and waiting for Micah to call him back.

Clearly, it didn’t help.

Taylor also noticed Jeremiah’s mood and went over to snap him out of it. “Yo, let’s go out.” He grabbed Jeremiah, pulling him up from the bench.

Jeremiah looked at him in confusion. “Go whur, nigga? We on lockdown?” he asked with a chuckle, putting his phone in the pocket of his red basketball shorts, which were actually Micah’s; he accidentally packed them when he went to Taylor’s apartment.

“Ion know, but clearly, you needa change of scenery or sum, big bro,” Taylor scoffed, reaching in his pocket to grab his phone. He put Chase, Jordan, and James all in a FaceTime call together.

“Iss’ not rey seem weird without Micah?” Jeremiah asked, raising a brow.

“Nigga, how many times we hung out without him before?” Taylor asked, shaking his head. “He was inna whole ten-yur relationship. Nigga’s ain’t questionin’ whur he’s at,” Taylor placed a hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder.

“Right…” Jeremiah nodded.

The phone picked up, with Chase popping into the call first. “Wuss poppin’, pussy boi!” he yelled into the phone.

“Fuck you, nigga!” Taylor laughed. “Hold on real quick!” he told him as he and Jeremiah exited the gym and headed back to his car.

Taylor muted himself and turned to Jeremiah. “Do you want Micah ta be there, Jeremiah?” he asked him. “I mean, I can invite him, since y’all still at odds n shit. Ion mind bein-”

“Nah,” Jeremiah interrupted him, shaking his head. “Like you said, everythang is coo’, plus… like you said, nigga’s prolly wit they baby mama,” Jeremiah added on, looking at the time, seeing as each hour passed by with no response from Micah.

Why do I keep falling for his bullshit? Am I really that fucking naive?

“Nigga, how the fuck you gon’ mute us, and you called us, nigga?” Jordan yelled through the phone, causing laughter to increase in the background by Chase and now James, who entered the group call.

Taylor just looked at Jeremiah, sighing and shrugging. He then unmuted the call, turning the phone so the camera was pointed at Jeremiah and himself. “Aight, now, chill on me, gang.” Taylor flicked them off.

“Wassup, Woody!” Jordan laughed.

“Wassup, fuck nigga,” Jeremiah smiled, snatching the phone. “Taylor hollin’ we rey do sum tanight, but niggas is locked up like pitbulls, so what we finna do?” he questioned, still looking at the phone while throwing his duffle bag into the backseat, then getting into the passenger’s seat of Taylor’s car.

“I mean, shit. We can do what we always do. Go ta yo dorm, since y’all nigga’s got the special shit with Micah’s rich ass, getta bottle, sneak some bad bitches ova…” Chase suggested.

“We rey get caught like shit,” Jordan said.

“Not if we do it right! Nigga, how many times have we snuck hoes in?” Chase asked.

“Not in a fuckin’ pandemic,” Taylor added in while heading back to his apartment. “Plus, they gon’ be watchin’ niggas like a mufucka at the athletic dorms…”

“Not if niggas don’t be obvious…” Jeremiah butted in finally. “I mean, y’all could come to my place, one at a time, before curfew… and we can sneak some girls in through the stairs, since they not by the main entrance, like the elevator.”

“Mmm, you thinkin’ now, nigga!” Jordan chuckled.

“Aight, so everybody come in thirty-minute intervals. I’m rey text some bad bitches. Y’all do the same. Don’t bring no hoe that might be sick. I still wanna have a chance in the championship,” Taylor told them.

“That’s a bet,” James spoke. “I’ll bring some Don, n Imma be there around eight,” he said, and everyone else agreed on a time that they were coming to the secret function before the call ended, with Jeremiah and Taylor being alone again.

“It’s not too late to invite-“

Jeremiah shook his head. “I’m coo,” he interjected.

“Whateva, nigga,” Taylor told him, shrugging, then turning up the rap music that he had playing from his phone as they drove the rest of the way to his place.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Back at the hospital, Kelia had finally woken up.

She had been awake, but Micah finally noticed, jumping out of his sleep when he heard her softly sobbing to herself.

His eyes slowly adjusted back to the low light of her room.

Micah stood up, looking at her. He saw how she cradled a blanket in her arms as if it were the baby. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to it, feeling the tears flow down her face.

Looking away for a moment, Micah felt his lip quivering. His heart was breaking even more. He felt like the pain she was feeling in this moment was his responsibility.

Micah had gotten her pregnant, and he felt like, ever since his mind had been taken over by Jeremiah, he’s barley paid any attention to her.

He thought that some of it was her fault, but at the end of the day, she still was carrying their child, and he felt like he should have been there more for her.

Maybe if they could have gotten along just a little bit more, then the baby could have made it… That’s Micah’s frame of thought.

“It’s not your fault,” Micah whispered to her as he bent down to put an arm around her.

“It is,” she said while sniffling, putting her hand down to her stomach. “I really wanted my baby, Micah,” she told him. “But you didn’t. You got your wish,” she finally looked back at him over her shoulder.

Micah sighed, biting down on his lip.

He remembers how hesitant, even further than that, how against her having the baby he was. Micah could admit that he didn’t think he was ready to have a baby in his senior year of college, but he did not want this.

“This wasn’t my fuckin’ wish, Kelia,” Micah told her. “I know what I was sayin’. I know how I felt,” he started, standing up a bit, looking down at her, into her eyes that were barely visible for how swollen and red they were. A byproduct of the tears she shed from the time she got in Micah’s car until now. “But, never, ever would I want my fuckin’ baby to die, Kelia. You gotta believe me when I say et,” Micah said as if he was almost begging at the end. “You gotta believe me, ‘Lia. Ian want this shit, no.” He shook his head, feeling his eyes getting wetter and wetter. “I promise you, Ian want this shit,” he said, banging on his chest with his hands, trying not to cry, but he failed.

Kelia only looked up at him with tears in her eyes, too. She didn’t say anything, she just started crying again, and Micah slid into the spot next to her, making sure to not to be too aggressive, since she had just gotten out of surgery, and he wrapped his arms around her gently.

The two just cried together. They mourned the loss of their baby.

Kelia felt like she was mourning the loss of something else, too.

After a while, the two just lay there in silence, except for the times when the nurses would come in to check on Kelia.

With the new rules, Micah couldn’t stay in the hospital for long.

“What do you need from me? Imma stay ’til they kick me out, but imma be back toma, n Imma bring you some clothes n shit-what else?” Micah asked her.

Kelia just shook her head. “Can you lay with me until they kick you out?” she asked him.

Micah smirked with a nod. “Okay,” he told her, getting into the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

As he settled into the bed, he oddly got deja vu.

Instead of Kelia, his eyes saw a white wall. He was no longer the one holding, but the one being held. He turned around, seeing Jeremiah with his eyes closed while he gently caressed him.

His mind took him back to one of the most vulnerable moments he’s ever had in his life.

Micah blinked a few times, and his vision returned to normal.

A sense of guilt and confusion washed over him.

He just closed his eyes, sighing and hoping that the feeling would wash away soon.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

It was just before the time the five boys, as well as their plus-ones was supposed to be meeting up at Jeremiah and Micah’s dorm room.

Jeremiah and Taylor were already there, setting up Jeremiah’s game, with a couple of bottles of alcohol and some pizza on the table. “We bein’ watched tho. We gotta tell niggas, they can’t be makin’ a lot of noise,” Taylor said to Jeremiah, who was connecting his phone to the speaker in the living room.

“Ion know why they think niggas is rey be quiet, n we gotta be trapped in the dorms all day,” Jeremiah spoke, turning on his chill rap playlist.

Taylor just shrugged. The two then whipped their heads towards the door when they heard a small knock. “Bruh, hurry,” James said low outside the door.

“Aight, one nigga’s on time.” Taylor chuckled, walking to the door to let James in.

James walked inside, looking around, expecting to see Micah, preparing for a heated exchange.

Tonight feels off… Is these niggas about to expose us? James thought to himself as he walked inside hesitantly.

“Micah not hur, nigga. Ain’t nobody got time fa y’all fightin’ n shit.” Taylor smacked his lips.

“Aight,” James said, looking around. He made eye contact with Jeremiah. “Wassup,” he greeted him.

“Wassup, luh James,” Jeremiah greeted back with a small nod and wave.

James rolled his eyes while flopping down on the couch. “Luh James?” He scoffed, looking at him. “Wuss luh about me?” He asked.

Taylor just looked at the two, scratching the back of his head.

He turned away, feeling his chest get a little tight.

What the fuck? He thought to himself. He just shook his head, heading back to the door, hearing another knock.

“My bad, big James.” Jeremiah raised his hands in defense, making James laugh and blush a bit.

“How you been? I feel like we ain’t chatted much… Nigga’s must really be booed up,” James scoffed with a smirk, making it seem like he wasn’t as bothered as he was.

Jeremiah knew he was referring to him and Micah. He looked away, smiling and grabbing the bottle of alcohol off the table.

He sighed, peeling off the plastic seal with his teeth, then spitting it onto the table.

James just watched him, unable to prevent himself from being attracted to just the simple things Jeremiah did.

“You a mess,” Jeremiah told him, pouring himself and James a shot with two of the plastic shot cups that sat on the table. “N do it look like I’m booed up? Niggas ain’t een seen each other lately… not like et…” Jeremiah said, then lowkey regretted his words.

James opened his mouth to speak, but Jeremiah pretended that he had to check on something that actually was nothing, and he quickly stood up and headed to his room.

James just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself. Micah probably with his baby mama, and this goofy nigga’s trying to be a good boy. So annoying.

That nigga is trouble. Jeremiah thought, rushing to his room. He pulled out his phone, checking his notifications.

His heart was rushing, just a bit, deep down, feeling hopeful that Micah’s name would pop up, and he wouldn’t have to continue to feel like he didn’t matter.

That last night was really just drunk, horny talk. That Jeremiah was only worth being with sexually.

I mean, what else does James want from me, besides sex?

It must really be all a nigga is good for.

Probably why I’ve been single my whole life.

I only know how to do a few things well. Rap, play basketball, and fuck.

Jeremiah scrolled through the plethora of notifications, not once seeing Micah’s name.

Of course, it stung, but he expected the sting.

At this point, Jeremiah was used to the feeling of his heart being squeezed and drained of blood. A dramatic representation of the pain he felt from being in a constant cycle of back and forth with Micah.

He sighed, going to the bathroom and locking it. He didn’t want to seem weird to the guys if he had locked his own door, so he stumbled into the bathroom… and he was unable to stop his lip from quivering, and his eyes from blurring, until they were full. Now, he was silently sobbing to himself, with his back towards the door, his hand behind his back, gripping the doorknob, even though it was locked.

Jeremiah hated how much he felt for Micah. How Micah could make him cry like this. How he couldn’t even start to enjoy the kickback that he came up with, along with Taylor, like he would before they got together?

For a long moment, he sat there. “You good, J?” Taylor asked through the door.

Jeremiah jumped, “Y-yeah,” his voice cracked a bit. He cleared his throat, then wiped his eyes with his muscle shirt. After taking a deep breath, he turned around and opened the door, revealing Taylor standing there with a raised brow.

“Youn look good, my nigga,” Taylor expressed.

“You stay inna nigga business. Let’s go take some fuckin’ shots,” Jeremiah responded, causing Taylor to frown.

He just shook off his feelings and followed behind him, into the living room.

“AYEEEE! Is that Woody Kent?” Jordan yelled in a fake girly voice, laughing and dapping Chase up.

Jeremiah flicked them both off, walking up to them, dapping both of his friends up.

“Bitches is on the way, by the way,” Chase added.

“Finally. I’m tired of seein’ niggas all the time.” Jordan scoffed, heading towards the coffee table where James was sitting, plopping down onto the couch, and pouring himself a shot.

“You don’t get no hoes ta see, gay ass nigga,” Chase joked, and Jeremiah felt a sting, again. Before Micah, something like this wouldn’t have bothered him.

It made him wonder how many times he said shit like that. It made him confront his sexuality, something he still wanted to keep buried.

“Aye, bro. Chill with da gay jokes. They lame,” Taylor spoke up, knowing Jeremiah and Micah’s situation.

Although he was closer to Jeremiah, they were his friends, and he knew Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, even if it bothered him.

Chase smacked his lip. “Fuck you offended fa? Nigga is you gay?” He laughed. “I mean, Ion give a fuck if you was, but I’m gettin’ ‘ese jokes off, nigga.” He patted Taylor on the shoulder.

“Are you serious?” Taylor scoffed.

“Yeah, nigga. I’m deadass. If you gay, you gay, but I’m still gon’ joke on yo fruity ass-“

“Nigga, Ian gay!” Taylor shouted.

“Okay, buddy.” Chase raised his hands in defense, and everyone in the room laughed.

“Y’all nigga is stupid, dawg,” Jeremiah told them, taking his shot he forgot to drink before he disappeared on James.

Jordan’s phone dinged, and he just made a sinister laugh, mimicking Dracula.

“Fucks wrong witchu, cuz?” Jeremiah cracked up.

“The hoes are hereeee,” Jordan continued in his evil, vampire voice.

James shook his head. “You sound like a fuckin’ creep.” He chuckled.

“My bad, brody. You right,” Jordan spoke in his normal voice, hopping up and heading towards the door.

He looked through the peephole, making sure nobody was in the hallway before he exited.

Jordan rushed to the stairway, running down the three flights before opening one of the sideways doors. Three girls, dressed in cute, skimpy outfits, rushed inside, giggling. “Shh,” he told them before leading them up the stairs.

“I gotta delivery,” Jordan said low, causing the girls behind him to giggle, texting Jeremiah to let him inside.

When the door opened, one of the girls almost screamed before the other three, plus Jeremiah, shushed her. “I’m sorry, but this nigga ain’t say famous rapper friend would be hur!” the girls whispered.

Jeremiah just smiled. “My name Jeremiah, luh mama,” he greeted her. “Now, can y’all come inside fa we get in trouble?” He asked them and then moved out of the way, letting the four inside the dorm room.

“Wassup,” Chase stood up, looking down at one of the girls. She was dark-skinned with a slick back ponytail, wearing a bright pink two-piece set. “My name Chase. What’s your name, beautiful?”

“I know yo name, Chase. I’m Bella.” She held her hand out. “These are my girls, Alexis and Nicole,” she pointed to each girl, and they just waved at all of the boys.

Nicole, the one who almost screamed when she saw Jeremiah, couldn’t help but damn near stare at him. She was enamored. “Hey, y’all,” she greeted everyone while only looking at Jeremiah.

“Hi, everyone,” Alexis said with a small wave, sitting next to Jordan, who put his arm around her waist, causing her to blush.

“Why you not playin’ yo shit?” Nicole asked Jeremiah, walking up to him as he held another shot in his hand.

Looking at everyone, Jeremiah chuckled nervously, downing his shot. “Y’all tryna hur me?” He asked, shrugging. “Ion think niggas tryna hur me-“

“Nigga, quit playin’, like I ain’t yo biggest fan!” James spoke up, subtly winking at Jeremiah.

Taylor, who every so often caught himself looking at James, found his response to Jeremiah perplexing. He said nothing, though.

“We all listen ta my nigga!” Chase added. “Turn on et Woody Kent, Jeremiah!” He laughed, speaking as if Woody Kent were a different person.

Sometimes, to Jeremiah, it did feel as if they were two people.

Woody was the strong one. The one that could face anything and everything. He didn’t mind rapping about guns, fighting, and having a bunch of sex.

Woody was the one who wasn’t scared. He could conquer the world, all with a humble smile. He wasn’t autistic. He wasn’t the one who still cried in his father’s arms. He wasn’t the person who let a man who used to abuse him, exploit him.

He wasn’t the one who was secretly and madly in love with a man.

Jeremiah was all of those things.

Woody was the mask and protector, while Jeremiah was the scared little boy wearing him as armor.

Fuck all that, though. I’m ready to get drunk as a bitch. He thought, jumping out of his tortured psyche.

“Aight, lemme play sum new shit I’m rey release,” Jeremiah told everyone, connecting his phone to the speaker.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Back at the hospital, Micah woke up to his hand intertwined with Kelia’s as he engulfed her small body.

He just stared at the side of her face, visibly noticing the stains that the tears left on her face.

Micah just sighed, jumping a bit when the door of their room opened.

A nurse walked inside with a mask on. “Hello, Mr Parks… unfortunately, after this time, no visitors allowed. Just for precaution. We will update you and her family tomorrow.”

Micah wanted to just ignore her. This is some fucking bullshit. Our child just died, and I can’t even support her.

She has to be in this cold, depressing ass hospital, by herself… after losing our baby.

“Mr Parks, did you hear me-”

“He will leave, just give us a damn second,” Kelia fussed at her, waving her away.

The nurse looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she just sighed and nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she told them, leaving the dark room.

“Ian know you was up,” Micah said low, trying to sit up, but he felt her pulling him back down.

“Fuck what they’re sayin’, Micah. Stay here with me,” she told him, holding onto his shoulders, looking him in his eyes. “I need you,” she said, and he got chills.

It invoked a memory. “Come ta me, daddy. I need you.” He remembered the words he spoke.

So it wasn’t just me making up shit? He thought.

“Micah, please,” Kelia pulled him out of the past. He looked at her in the eyes.

Again, a sense of confusion.

He felt like he was a rope; Kelia had one end, while Jeremiah had the other. Micah was being pulled in both directions.

“But they gonna kick me out, Kelia,” he tried to reason with her. “You know if alles shit wasn’t happenin’, I wouldn’t leave you for a second.”

He sighed, seeing her turn her face, hearing her sniffle. “‘Lia cmon. Imma be back right in the mornin’, waitin’ just like I was today, until they let me in es mufucka. I’m not abandonin’ you. Actually, gimme your keys, so I can go getchu some clothes n shit…”

Kelia tried to stop crying. “Okay… Can I call you at least?” She asked.

Micah nodded, feeling for his phone. “Shit-it’s at Meilie’s dorm.”

Kelia immediately frowned. “You spend a lot of time with her.”

“Don’t start. You know she gay,” Micah instantly subverted her sentiments.

“Hmmph, whatever,” she huffed, posting.

Micah just smirked, chuckling a bit. “You are fucking crazy. You know that?” He asked her.

“You made me this way,” she told him, and he couldn’t even say anything back because it might be true…

After gathering the few items he had brought with him, Micah quickly straightened up her room. “Aight, I’m about to go get my phone, sleep at my shit, and inna mornin’ Imma go to your place,” he told her, then put on his mask.

“Okay,” Kelia responded before pulling the cover over herself. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Micah waved to her, opening the door to leave. He bumped into the nurse. “My bad-look, I was already leaving, Miss.” He chuckled, walking past her and heading out of the hospital.

When Micah entered his car, he ripped off his mask, grabbing his face, then he screamed as loud as he could. “WHY THE FUCK IS LIFE SO FUCKIN’ HARD?” he yelled out to himself, breathing heavily afterwards.

He cleared his throat, “Damn, that actually felt good. No cap.” he laughed to himself, wiping the few tears that fell from his face.

Starting up the car, of course, the person who had been plaguing his mind came on the radio. Woody Freestyle started playing, and Micah couldn’t help but hum the lyrics.

Unintentionally, he found himself driving a bit fast. He needed to make it to his phone.

Micah needed to confirm if that call actually happened before he allowed himself to want to cry in his arms and tell him about what he was going through, knowing he would make him feel better.

And not just the sex. Jeremiah’s mere presence could make him feel better.

He arrived at the regular dorm building, went to the side of the building, and sneaked inside when he saw someone else opening the door for their food delivery.

Micah rushed up to Meilie’s room, lightly knocking on the door.

It was past the mandated campus curfew, and this was the girl’s floor, so he had to be as quiet as possible.

A couple of knocks later, the door swings open. “Micah!” Meilie gasped, pulling him inside. She hugged him. “I saw your phone on the floor, after I tried callin’ you. I was so pissed.” She pulled back from him. “What the fuck happened?” She asked, noticing that he was in the same clothes from yesterday.

Micah just sighed, taking a deep breath. “She lost it,” Micah said low.

“What?” Meilie asked. “Lost what-who… Oh, shit.” She had realized what Micah was referring to. She pulled him in for a hug. “Micah, I’m so sorry,” she comforted him. “I know you loved your baby.”

Micah felt his tears welling up again. “Bro, it’s so fucked up cuz it’s like, why? What the fuck did my baby do ta deserve not to live? Did I stress her out that fuckin’ much? Is God punishin’ me? Like, wha-what the fuck is goin’ on?” Micah angrily rambled as Meilie rubbed his back.

He aggressively wiped his face. “I mean, Jeremiah fuckin’ hates me-“

“I thought y’all made up?” Meilie scoffed. “So you tellin’ me, I made up hearin’ moanin’ in my room, when I was about ta go piss?”

Micah’s mouth dropped. “Oh, so I really was-” he stopped, then made a yikes. “We’re nasty as fuck.” He chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Whur’s my phone, Mei. I-I gotta talk ta him. Explain what happened. I-I think he wanted ta meet up, n I-fuck.” Micah facepalmed himself.

“Micah, relax. Just call him. I mean, it’s perfectly reasonable why you weren’t able to,” Meilie told him. “Maybe, wash your ass first?”

Micah laughed, rolling his eyes. “Ian tryna vet no dick. I’m sad. Maybe tomorrow,” he joked. “…actually scratch that, I’m goin’ back ta the hospital. Kelia needs me right now, and I know everything we been thru, but this is different.”

“Youn gotta explain yourself ta me, Micah. I understand. I can’t imagine what’s goin’ on in her head right now, and it’s just you bein’ a caring person by bein’ thur for ha,” she told him, rubbing his arm. “Definitely talk ta Jeremiah tho.”

“I am.” He nodded, and then he followed Meilie into her room.

She handed him his phone and some clothes he had left at her place. “Wash yo stank butt.”

“Girl, fuck you.” Micah laughed, catching the rag and towel Meilie threw at his face before going into her bathroom.

Micah was glad he had someone in his corner who never wavered.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

A couple of hours into the kickback, the dorm room, numbered as 303, now had more visitors.

A couple more girls, who were friends of the first three, joined the party, one of them headed to Micah’s vacant room with Chase while Jeremiah and his other three teammates sat around their coffee table. They were in chairs, on the couch, and on a random stool; they had to make enough seats for them and the women who joined them.

At that point, everyone was intoxicated. “So, why you n Micah don’t fuck wit each other?” Jordan asked. “I swur, you niggas was besties last yur.”

“I also wanna know how all of a sudden niggas is fightin’,” Taylor added on, although he had a suspicion that it had to do with something gay…

So James is really gay? He thought.

James just smirked. “Y’all niggas love ta gossip, like females-”

“Females?” One of the girls scoffed.

“My bad, shawty. Women,” he corrected himself with an eye roll.

“Is he gay?” One of the girls next to Jeremiah whispered to him.

Jeremiah tensed up, “I-Ion think so, luh mama.” He just gave a response.

He was always hit with the harsh reality of life.

“Well, I wanna know too! I saw the fight on Instagram. I don’t wanna offend you, but Micah kinda whooped your ass,” another girl said, causing almost everyone’s mouth to drop.

“Bitch, whatchu talkin’ about?” James slurred a bit, slightly drunk.

“Whoa,” Jordan said, standing up and holding a hand to him.

“Nigga, ain’t nobody finna touch es dumb broad,” James spoke.

“Bitch? Broad?” The woman scoffed. “Bitch ass nigga, like I said, you gotcho ass whooped!” She yelled at him.

“Oh, my fuckin’ god,” Jeremiah whispered to himself. He wiped his hand over his face. “I be back, shorty,” he told the girl before standing up, walking over to James, and holding him back.

“Bitch, I have yo ass whooped. How ’bout Dat. Bitch,” he emphasized, and you could hear how drunk he was by the way his speech was slightly elongated and slurred.

“Y’all not gon’ get y’alls nigga?” One of her friends said, looking around at all the boys who were still in the common area.

“Who rey get me, hoe?” James continued.

“Cmon, bruh,” Jordan came up to him.

“Like, calm down,” Jeremiah said low to him, pulling him back.

“Imma get my brothers ta jump yo f*g ass,” she spoke with vitriol.

“But I’m the nigga in the wrong when es bitch is disrespectful,” James snapped at her, being held back by Jeremiah.

“Shorty, relax. How you tell us ta calm him down, n you still goin’, saying disrespectful shit!” Taylor told her, knowing that Jeremiah and possibly even James felt a way by all the homophobic language she spoke.

“Girl, let’s just go,” one of them tried to calm the other two down.

“Girl, fuck these lame ass niggas!” The one who brought up the fight yelled out.

Jeremiah loudly clapped his hands. “How about… all y’all ladies get the FUCK out my shit,” he snapped. “Niggas rey get me in trouble.” He scoffed.

“So, we gotta go n not them?” She asked with an attitude.

“Ain’t that what the fuck I jus’ sed, shawty. Should I say it another way? Should I say it how he sed it?” Jeremiah asked, pointing towards James.

She just said nothing.

The girl who sat next to Jeremiah just grabbed her friends, and they all left.

She recognized Jeremiah’s status in the city, and she didn’t want him to blast any of them or spread rumors about them.

That isn’t something Jeremiah would do. He didn’t even remember any of the girls’ names. He was just overstimulated, but he wanted to continue the kickback… just with his friends.

“Gaaaahhhh damn!” Jeremiah exclaimed, turning around to James, Taylor, and Jordan, who was shaking their heads. “Aye, next time, I’m choosin’ who comin’ ta the party.” He scoffed, ruffling his hair, then putting it in a low ponytail.

“Why you hadda go off on shorty like et, James?” Jordan asked. “You jus’ ruined a nigga chance fa some ass!”

“Aye, what’s goin’ on?” Chase busted out of the room with Bella, the girl who he was with at the start of the fucked up function. “My baby tellin’ me y’all kicked ha frans out, n was callin’ them bitches!”

“Nigga, I forgot you was even hur,” Jordan joked, making Chase laugh.

“You friend disrespected me first,” James spoke up. “Like, I don’t give a fuck, let’s be a little serious. Tellin’ a nigga he got his ass whooped is about ta make a nigga talk reckless right back!” James explained.

Jeremiah nodded his head. He had to have James’ back on this one; he felt as if the girl provoked him on purpose.

“I can’t lie, et is a crazy ass statement ta day to a nigga.” Jeremiah shook his head.

“I mean…” Taylor widened his mouth to make a face that screamed ‘yikes’. “I woulda been mad iffa hoe said I got my ass whooped too,” he agreed.

“Well, if what they saying is true, it sounds like yo frens provoked them, shawty,” Chase told Bella.

“So, that means he had to call her a bitch?” She scoffed.

Chase looked at James. “Well, if the bitch wasn’t bein’ disrespectful-“

“Aight, Bella. Let’s jus’ go ta my room, aight?” Chase told her.

She just rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand, and headed to the door.

“They ain’t mean it, baby,” he whispered to her.

“Yes, the fuck I did!” James yelled.

“Shut up, nigga!” Chase yelled back before the dorm door was heard closing.

After they left, only four boys remained. Jordan flopped down on the couch, grabbed the leftover alcohol, pouring a round for Jeremiah, James, and Taylor.

“I need anotha fuckin’ drank. What about y’all?” Jordan asked, holding up two shots for Jeremiah and Taylor, then he passed one to James.

Jeremiah and James both sat in two chairs that were across from the couch, being separated by the coffee table.

The four of them downed their shots. “Y’all wanna hop on Fortnite?” Taylor asked the three, and of course, they immediately agreed.

As they were setting up, Taylor decided to revisit the topic of James and Micah. “So… before shorty went off the rails, I wanted ta hur what really is the beef between you n Micah,” Taylor asked James, who was now sitting next to him on the couch.

He peeped James’ eyes flash towards Jeremiah for a second. “Ummm,” James started. “Iss’ complicated,” he answered.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, was trying not to panic. He faced forward in the chair, on the far left of the couch, next to James. Luckily. It meant the other boys couldn’t see the slight shake in his hands, in fear that he was about to be exposed… possibly Micah too…

Micah… I miss him… I wonder if he’s thinking the same.

I doubt it.

He’s probably with Kelia, not worrying about me in the slightest, and here I am… as I am always, thinking about him.

“Complicated, like what, nigga?” Jordan asked. “What is it that we can’t know? You fucked Kelia or sum? I mean, clurly, she’s a hoe,” Jordan asked with a shrug.

“Hell nah, Ian fuck Kelia. Nigga, is you stupid?” James scoffed.

“I mean, what else could it be?” Jordan exclaimed.

James tried to think of a lie.

Although he wasn’t fond of Micah, he didn’t want to expose him, himself, or Jeremiah.

“Bro, jus’ let it go,” James told them. “Sometimes, brothas jus’ get inta spats.” He came up with something on the fly.

Jordan smacked his lips, “Whateva, nigga… Then if it ain’t that serious, I should be able ta call my nigga up, n everythang be coo’. Hopefully, he ain’t mackin’ up wit ‘Lia,” he pulled out his phone.

“Can we jus’ play the game?” James asked.

Taylor peeped the conversation, and he was still confused, but he felt like it had something to do with another person in the room.

“Yeah… A nigga gettin’ tired anyways. Let’s play a couple games ‘fore I have ta sleep on the couch,” Taylor helped to avert the topic. If it was true what he was thinking, then ouch. He felt a small sting in his chest.

A few games later, Jeremiah found himself getting tired.

He realized that most of the day had gone by, and still, there was no response or anything from Micah.

Jordan and Taylor were in a final match; Jeremiah could hear the loud background noise of the three cheering each other on, cussing at their opponents, laughing, and the sounds that the controller made.

It reminded him of simpler times, freshman year. A time where the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders, where he wasn’t as confused about himself, where he and Micah were back to what they used to be.

Jeremiah pulled out his phone, one more time, to just check and see if, maybe, just maybe, Micah had contacted him. He prayed that his words weren’t falsities.

He scrolled down his notifications, nothing.

Jeremiah felt his knee start bouncing.

He clicked on his messages, feeling his heart rate as he checked to see if Micag had simply read the messages.

A breath of air was released when he saw they were still unopened.

His intuition led him to Instagram.

He went to his page…

Jeremiah saw he hadn’t posted anything on his story. Absent-mindedly, he scrolled through his account, seeing a photo of the engagement between him and Kelia.

He felt his chest tightening. He clicked on the tags, looking at her name pop up in the photo of her smiling widely with her round belly.

Jeremiah clicked her name, seeing the glowing circle around her profile picture.

Mom and wife to be. ❤️, read her bio.

It made Jeremiah cringe.

Fuck, it. His intuition was burning.

He clicked on her story, and his heart almost stopped when he saw a picture of her holding hands with someone.

Of course, it was Micah.

“Thank you for always being there. Through sickness and in health.” Jeremiah read to himself.

He just blinked, and he kept blinking and clicking her story over and over again, rereading the caption, watching the way their hands interlocked.

“I’m about ta go ta sleep,” he blurted. He wanted everyone to get the fuck out, so he could cry.

Taylor peeped Jeremiah’s mood. “You want us to shake?”

“Fasho. I gotta piss tho, so y’all can let yourselves out. Love y’all boys.” He told them, running into his room, into the bathroom.

He couldn’t hold back his tears anymore, and he hated crying in front of other people.

The other three looked at each other in confusion. “Yeah… let’s just shake,” Jordan chuckled, standing up and fixing his pants. “C’mon, Tay Tay. We rey finish atcho shit.”

“So Ian invited?” James asked with a slight slur and an offended tone.

Taylor raised a brow. “I mean, you obviously can come,” he told him with a smirk.

James tilted his head slightly, wondering what all the smiles were about.

“I’m jus’ playin’,” James said, laughing. “I’m tired. Imma check on es nigga, then I’m goin’ back ta my room.”

Taylor furrowed his brows.

What the fuck? That was the first thought to infect his mind.

All of James’ actions were just leading to his turning suspensions. “Do you li-” he started.

“Tay, let’s go, nigga. Let the depressed boys butt fuck each otha.” Jordan laughed, pulling Taylor through the door, with Taylor getting one last look at James before the door slammed shut, completely.

James sat there for a second, paralyzed, knowing Taylor’s next question wasn’t one that he wanted to be asked.

He stumbled back to the couch, grabbed the bottle, pouring himself a color shot to boost his intoxication back up.

After what seemed like hours, but really was only a few minutes, Jeremiah exited his bathroom, then his bedroom, stopping in his tracks when he saw James was still there.

“Whatchu doin’,” Jeremiah inquired, causing James to jump out of his skin, for his hands were covering his face at the moment.

He was trying to calm himself down from almost being exposed, possibly exposing Jeremiah, too. Jeremiah would kill me.

Of course, he wasn’t privy to the fact that Taylor had caught Jeremiah and Micah having sex.

“Uh-uhh,” James stuttered with a laugh. I must look crazy as fuck.

Oh, well.

“I just wanted ta make sure you was coo’… You seemed sad about some shit, and I’m just tryna see if you good,” James answered.

He couldn’t help but look at Jeremiah up and down, slightly biting his bottom lip.

Jeremiah had changed out of his clothes while he was in the bathroom. Now, he only sported his basketball shorts… with no underwear on.

James’ eyes couldn’t help but notice the fabric moving in between his legs every time he took a step.

‘I’m-I’m coo’,” Jeremiah replied, feeling James ogle his body. “Like I sed, ‘a nigga was tired’ n I also sed ‘niggas can let themselves out’, yet hur is a lightkin nigga still sitting on my couch,” he finished.

James just smirked, grabbing the bottle off the table.

He poured the rest of the alcohol in two of the empty shot glasses that rested on the table.

“I know you not good, but I won’t pry. Unless you don’t mind talkin’ about it, then Imma good listener.” James patted the empty spot next to him.

Jeremiah stared at James for a second. “Why you tryna be nice ta me? Ian all that nice?”

“Cuz I like you,” James simply responded.

It reminded him of a few responses he gave a certain someone.

He continued staring at James, smirking just a small amount, thinking about the fact that ever since James started liking Jeremiah, or showing it rather, he had been attempting to get him. He never once gave up.

Maybe that’s the energy that Jeremiah needed.

Maybe… Jeremiah had been looking in the wrong direction the whole time.

He slowly walked towards the couch, grabbed his shot, and plopped down next to James. I don’t know if I’m on that, though. Jeremiah thought to himself, looking at James out of his peripheral vision.

I know his freaky ass is.

“So, you gon’ tell me what’s wrong?” Jame asked again.

Jeremiah chuckled, “You not dumb.”

James looked at him in confusion until he made a facial expression of realization. “Micah.”

Jeremiah just downed his shot, smacking his chest from the burn.

“So what? Micah n I ain’t fuckin’ around no more, so you want ta fuck?” Jeremiah asked. “I know es all you want.”

That’s all anybody ever wants from me anyway.

“I mean, if you available, which it looks like you are,” he looked at Jeremiah from head to toe, stopping at his crotch, making sure Jeremiah noticed it, “then I would love ta sit on it, but I told you already. I like you, Jeremiah,” James confessed. “N it aint jus’ a little amount. So, nah, I don’t just want ta have sex. I wanna get ta know you onna deeper level,” he spoke while looking deeply into Jeremiah’s eyes.

Jeremiah took in everything he said. He wanted to see if he was lying to try to just get some dick from him. “What is it about me that you kike?” Jeremiah asked him, relaxing more into the couch.

His eyes started to wander and take in his admirer’s appearance as the alcohol coursed through his bloodstream.

James took the opportunity to scoot just a little closer towards Jeremiah, and their thighs slightly touched. “Well, there’s a lot of things I like aboutchu.”

Jeremiah noticed the change in James’ voice as opposed to earlier. It was softer, more submissive, and quieter.

“For one,” James continued. “I love the way you’re so passionate with everything. You give your all,” James started. “Even with Micah.”

Jeremiah looked away at the mention of him.

“I can tell how much you were passionate about him, and Ian gon’ lie, et shit pissed me off.” James chuckled.

“Why?” Jeremiah asked, returning his attention to James, whose eyes never left Jeremiah.

“Because I could see that it wasn’t bein’ returned. Micah’s too caught up in other shit, n he got mad at us for doin’ out shit, but at the end of the day, both of us, not him, were single. Able ta do as we please,” James explained, making Jeremiah’s drunken mind confused. “Yeah, I went afta you after I saw y’all kiss,” he admitted, “but Ian think niggas was serious. I mean, I saw him push you offa him, Jeremiah. I was supposed ta think you two were anything after he pushed you off? Then, I got ta know you, and I fell in love-I mean,” he stumbled over his words a bit.

Jeremiah’s mouth dropped. “You in love with me?” Jeremiah asked with furrowed brows. “I mean, I know you was sexually attracted ta me, but in love?” Jeremiah was a bit confused.

“Bruh, is it not obvious?” James scoffed. It made him a bit frustrated how dense Jeremiah could be.

He decided to be bold, climbing into Jeremiah’s lap and grabbing his face.

“Nigga, I love you. I love your passion. I love your personality. You are the star of the entire room, without sayin’ much,” James just started rambling. “You funny as fuck, and every time we hang out together, I have a good time, outside of me suckin’ yo dick.” James laughed.

Jeremiah gave a small chuckle as his hands found themselves on James’ waist.

“I’m always on you because I know what you deserve, and Ian got no baby mama, or no girlfriend holdin’ me back. I’d be all aboutchu. I damn near already am, without even gettin’ no dick,” James sighed, making a slightly pouty expression.

“The way you talkin’ you must want some?” Jeremiah said back, biting his lip. His eyes were low, and James was talking nicely to him.

He couldn’t lie; everything James was saying felt good to him in the moment. There were things that he wanted to hear from Micah.

He wanted to hear that Micah was all about him, that he didn’t have to worry about anyone else, or a baby, or being a secret lover forever.

He wanted Micah to be about him one hundred percent, like he knew he was about Micah.

Jeremiah doubted that he would ever get what he wanted, though.

The Instagram story flashed in his mind.

Maybe wanting Micah is where I’m fucking up.

Maybe it’s time to try something new.

Try someone who seems sure about me, even if I wasn’t sure about them.

“I meeean… if you offerin’…” James said in a low, seductive voice, putting his face closer to Jeremiah’s.

Their lips were almost touching.

“Show me you want it,” Jeremiah whispered in his ear. “Lemme know you want me.”

James smirked, pulling back and grabbing Jeremiah’s face to kiss him.

The kiss started off slow. It was foreign, but it didn’t necessarily feel bad. Jeremiah let James take over the kiss.

His eyes were slightly open, his hands on James’ thighs, grabbing them as the kiss intensified.

A small groan escaped Jeremiah’s lips once he felt James’ hand gripping his dick through his shorts. “You want it that bad, huh?”

James nodded, kissing Jeremiah again.

The two continued to make out until James started kissing down Jeremiah’s body. He went lower and lower, then he was eye-level with Jeremiah’s covered half-hard dick.

He licked over his lips, reaching into Jeremiah’s basketball shorts, pulling it out of his shorts.

“Get that mufucka hard,” Jeremiah commanded James, putting his hand on the top of his head.

James felt as Jeremiah guided his head down to his lap. Jeremiah held the base of his length, slightly smacking James’ lips with the tip.

James took hold of Jeremiah himself, looking up into his eyes as he engulfed his full length.

“Mmm,” he moaned, pulling off with a pop. “I missed the taste,” he told Jeremiah, putting half of Jeremiah’s dick back inside of his mouth.

Jeremiah bit down on his lip, and his stomach started getting tight with the sensation of James’ wet mouth.

James continued using his lips and tongue as a sheath for Jeremiah’s dick. He slid his plump, pink lips, along with circling his tongue around Jeremiah’s head. He felt his own dick start twitching at the sounds of “Jeremiah’s low groans and moans.

Jeremiah’s eye closed, and he threw his head back, feeling his locs cushion his head while his head rested on the top of James’ head.

He pushed him further down until he started feeling the restriction of James’ throat.

He wanted all his feelings to disappear in this moment. All of the sad feelings, the feelings of always being pushed to the side.

He wanted all of the awful feelings associated with being in love with Micah to go away.

He hoped they would leave when he released them into James’ mouth.

“Gahdamn,” Jeremiah huffed, his chest rising and falling from his orgasm.

James wasn’t finished, though. He continued sucking Jeremiah through his nut, causing Jeremiah’s eyes to roll to the back of his head from the stimulation.

Once shut, the person who was constantly on his mind came back. He imagined that Micah was kneeling in front of him.

He got a bit of déjà vu from this exact situation.

“Shit,” he started bucking his hips.

“Mmm,” James moaned around him.

“Baby,” Jeremiah released a stuttered, higher-pitched moan, still seeing Micah behind his closed eyes. “Mm,” Jeremiah hummed. “Shit, Mi-mmm,” he caught himself from slipping up and calling James Micah. “Fuck.” He shot his eyes open.

Jeremiah pulled James off of him by his hair. He stared at him, with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he peered at James’ wet mouth and submissive expression.

“You want it?” Jeremiah asked low.

James nodded.

“Nah, I need ta hur you,” Jeremiah corrected him.

“I need it, daddy,” James damn near moaned, and Jeremiah had to blink a few times because James kept morphing into Micah’s.

I’m drunk as hell.

“Go-go getcho self ready,” Jeremiah commanded him, letting his hair go.

He watched as James stood up immediately. He just do whatever I say… Jeremiah thought, watching James go into his bedroom.

“I gotta get this nigga out my head,” Jeremiah whispered to himself.

Since I’m clearly out of his.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Back in Meilie’s dorm, Micah had just woken up in Meilie’s bed from a depressed nap.

That’s how he’d describe it.

As soon as he got out of the shower and made the decision to lie down, his eyes shut involuntarily, and sleep overcame him.

He didn’t have a chance to check his phone or do anything for that matter.

“What time is it, Mei?” He asked in a groggy voice. “Whur’s my phone?”

Meilie was currently playing Mortal Kombat X, on her PS5. “It’s chargin’ on my dresser. Ion know what time it it. I’m whoopin’ ass. It’s whoop-ass time, niggas!” She damn near yelled.

Micah laughed at her silly ass, reaching over to grab his phone. “Fuck!” He cursed. “I was sleep that long?” He saw that it was a little past eleven. “Why you let me sleep et long, Mei?”

Meilie sneaked her lips. “Nigga, you literally had on the same clothes from yesterday, and your eyes were red as hell from cryin’. You just went through something traumatic. Micah you need rest. If a nigga can’t undastand why when you explain it ta him–fuck’em. N I mean et.” She shrugged, returning to her game.

Micah remained silent. He just started going through his phone. He didn’t even wait. He just went through his texts to see if Jeremiah had texted him.

Fuck Him

> I can’t wait 2 hold n kiss on you baby. ❤️ I know yo drunk ass probably sleep. see u tomorrow.

Micah smiled at the message. He felt bad because it probably seemed as if he was blowing him off.

Micah checked his missed calls, knowing Jeremiah probably called to see where he was. “Fuck.” He smacked his forehead, looking at Jeremiah’s name in bright red. “Mei, I gotta go. Imma call you toma,” he told her, jumping out of the bed.

“Okay. Hope it goes well.” Meilie blew home a kiss.

“Me too,” Micah said low as he slipped on his slides. “Bye. Mei. Tell Junelle I said hi.”

“Leave JuJu alone, n bye, nigga!” Meilie scolded him on his way out.

Micah chuckled, proceeding to sneak out of Meilie’s dorm building and back into his own.

Micah used the stairs. He wanted to take the long way because… he was nervous.

He knew his man, and they were already on bad terms, then a catastrophic event happened, causing him to not answer his phone.

Especially after Jeremiah specifically told him to call him back.

“How do you explain ta yo nigga that another fucked up thing happened ta you, and that’s why you blew him off, without seeming like a lyin’ ass nigga?” Micah asked to himself in a whisper.

He eventually approached dorm room 303.

“Fuck it. Let’s find out. I’ll give him some makeup head another day.” He smirked to himself.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

about ten minutes ago

“Jeremiah,” James moaned loudly as Jeremiah fingered him. “Shit, when you gon’ gimme some of et?” He asked with a breathy voice.

“Just be patient,” Jeremiah told him.

Am I stalling? He thought to himself while stroking his dick, trying to keep himself hard. All of his thoughts were distracting.

“Just fuck me, Jeremiah,” James practically begged him, wiggling his hips.

Jeremiah was stuck. He was stuck in his mind, and he couldn’t get out of it.

He tried thinking of what James expressed to him, knowing deep down, a part of it felt true.

It just didn’t feel right.

No matter what he did, Micah was still in the back of his mind.

Jeremiah pulled his fingers out of James abruptly. James made a face of confusion as Jeremiah looked down on him, but not with a look that said he wanted to have sex; it was sadness.

“Look, James. I just… I’m sorry, but I can’t fuck you. I know you like me, love me, and I’m truly sorry about that, but I just-” he paused, caressing his face. “Look, Ian sayin’ you ugly, or a bad person,I don’t think none of et, but I know whur my heart lies… and Ion know how long Imma feel like es, but Ion wamna lead you on, n make you think sum when I’m still in love with et nigga. I can’t help how I feel, regardless of if you thank I’m stupid or slow, or whatever. Right now, I can’t not love him, which is why I can’t do es with you. I’m sorry.”

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Micah took out his key card, swiping it against the door.

He walked inside, noticing the lights were on.

He’s here.

Micah walked in fully, raising a brow at the bottles of alcohol and random chairs around the table.

“Nigga been turned up in es mufucka, huh?” Micah said to himself, getting a bad feeling.

He slowly walked up to Jeremiah’s door.

Micah reached out with his hand hovering over the handle. He paused.

He was nervous.

He wanted nothing more than just to be good.

“Jeremiah-” Micah started to call out to him, then paused when the door swung open.

It revealed Jeremiah, who still only had on his basketball shorts, and behind him, Micah’s eyes landed upon James, who was fully naked, picking up his clothes.

“Micah,” Jeremiah’s eyes widened, almost popping out of his head.

Micah just stared at him, starting to shake.

James just rushed to put on his clothes. He wanted to get the fuck out of there.

It was already embarrassing enough.

“Micah, look,” Jeremiah rushed to pull his door shut, with him and Micah on the other side of his room.

Micah was speechless for a moment. He started shaking as he stared at Jeremiah.

“S-so, so this is whatchu been upto? Micah asked, his voice shaking and his eyes watering.

He felt as if his heart was ripped out of his chest.

Jeremiah’s first instinct was to reason with him, “Micah, baby. Ian even-”

Micah interrupted his comment with a slap.

Jeremiah felt his lip bust, but he just bit down on it, trying to pretend as if Micah had not just slapped him, although a rush of anger surged through him.

“Was you witcho baby mama?” Jeremiah questioned him.

Micah gasped, then backed away from him. At this point, tears were pouring from his eyes.

“I hatechu,” Micah seethed through stuttered tears. “I hatechu, nigga. I hate you, n I mean et! I hate you, Jeremiah!” Micah yelled at him.

Jeremiah saw how distraught Micah was, and he was confused.

Why does this time feel different?

Why does it feel like he fucked up this time?

“Micah, whur was you all day? Just answer me,” Jeremiah pleaded with him, grabbing Micah’s arms, trying to pull him closer.

“Fuck you, nigga. Get offa me! It don’t fuckin’ matter. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. It don’t matter what I say. What the fuck can you say ta et?” Micah pointed to Jeremiah’s closed door, with James standing behind it, listening to the conversation.

He just wanted to leave.

Jeremiah was speechless. He just looked at him.

“Exactly.” Micah pushed Jeremiah off of him, then simply exited back through the door, letting it slam.

Jeremiah was sober now.

He just continued staring at the door as his own tears started cascading down his face.

I fucked up.

To be continued…

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Thoughts on the chapter? Predictions?

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What was your most favorite?

GO READ THE NEW ONESHOT: JEREMIAH, JAMES, and MICAH AU IN MY ONESHOT BOOK: Forgotten Memories

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