She Wants What She Hates, The Sequel

01

The next morning, Ally was the first one up and had made breakfast already.

When I got downstairs, the kids were already eating a pretty big breakfast, might I add.

"G'mornin', loves," I greet, kissing my eldest on his head. "Mornin', Ma," he says with a mouthful of bacon and grits. "Where's your sister?" I ask, referring to my six year old.

"Outside with Momma," Jah answers. I go over to Maddie, who's eating her yogurt melts. "Hey, baby," I kiss her forehead and she giggles. "Ma, can we go to G-Dad's house after breakfast?"

"He may be busy, son," I say, going to the kitchen to fix a cup of orange juice. I don't drink coffee, I'm more of an energy drink kinda person; it depends on how tired I am. "Could you call and check?" I look over at him to see his puppy dog face. "A'ight. I will after breakfast."

He gives me a toothy smile with one missing in the front.

Jah looks more like me than Ally, save his eyes, but when my nephew, Gekyume comes over, they look more alike. When the boys are out, many think they're brothers. The only one of my kids that's a spitting image of me is Miss Brooklyn Jaye Johnson.

I'm saying acts like me, talks like me, I know why the girls didn't like me all those years ago. She can't help it too much because she's a kid, but damn. Now, she ain't a bad kid, just got a smart and reckless ass mouth that gets popped from time to time.

I ain't playing those games.

My phone starts ringing in my pocket and I take it out to see my best friend. I answer it, "Qué lo qué, Garcia."

"Qué lo qué, Johnson. Y'all having breakfast?" I look back at my kids still eating. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I'm just gettin' off work."

"Say less, Ally made plenty."

"Thanks, Pebs. See you in a few. Love you," she says. "No problem, Kid. Love you back," I hang up and put my phone back in my pocket.

Ally comes in holding Brook's hand, both dressed in nearly matching pajamas. My wife had since been her natural brunette and is still the same height as our eldest.

She releases her hand to let her go to the bathroom to wash her hands.

When she sees me, she smiles and comes up to wrap her arms around my waist. "Mornin', wifey," I say, kissing her forehead. "G'mornin', wifey," she leans up and I meet her halfway into a brief, chaste kiss.

"Ewww!" The kids cringe. "Oh, hush," she tells them then looks at me. "Didya eat yet?" I shake my head, "Not yet, but Kid's coming over from work." She hums as I follow her to the kitchen and stand in the doorway as she washes her hands.

She's been afraid of "getting old" when she makes 37 look good. She honestly looks no different than a decade ago minus the hair. I keep telling her she's the next JLo, that woman's in her sixties, but looks thirty.

Allyson Brooke Johnson is a dream that I didn't know I wanted when I was young, dumb, and ignorant. Now, she's all I ever wanted and I can't wait for this family to grow more.

I cherish her and my family with everything.

"What were you and Brooklyn doin' outside?"

"I just had a very interesting conversation with our daughter," she says while drying her hands. "Did you? What was it about?"

"How she doesn't like Breezie in her class. He would pick on her about her having two moms, so she said he had a stupid name."

"It is a stupid name. Then again, it's a school for famous kids, so," I agree and she scolds me. "We can't teach them to be mean."

"Baby, they're not mean, they just don't take shit. I mean, everybody got two dads or two moms now," she sighs and shakes her head. "If I get a call from one of the Jenner-Kardashian sisters, you're on the couch," she points at me.

"I can't control what they say while we're not around," I gape and she shrugs nonchalantly. "That's your twin."

"She just looks like me," I try to defend, but I knew my attempt was futile. Just then, someone knocks on the door in a familiar pattern and Jah hurriedly runs to the door.

Me and Ally exit the kitchen to see Kid coming in.

She's still the same, only she had gotten locks and dyed the ends red. They go down her back, but she has them up in a bun on top of her head. My homie just turned 33 and still looks 23; like for real, my name for her fits.

"Hey, nephew," she greets and that's when Brooklyn got up and ran to her. Little Maddie starts bouncing in her high chair while giggling. "Hey, nieces," she lifts up Brooklyn.

"Hey, Ally. 'Sup, Pebs," she daps me up, then sets Brooklyn back on her feet. "Hey, AJ," Ally greets, giving her a hug. "What's for breakfast?" She asks while making her way to the kitchen to wash her hands.

"Ooh, y'all got grits and bacon? Say less, I'm finna crush."

"Why do you talk like that?" Brooklyn's little voice calls from the doorway. Kid turns to look at her while she dries her hands.

"You don't know nothin' about that, Niecy. It was before your time," she says. Brooklyn tilts her head to the side and Kid plays in her loose curls. "Don't worry about it, sobrina. Go finish eatin', I'll be there in a minute," she says and the child runs off happily.

"I heard about Harry Styles gettin' old groups together," she says as she fixes herself a bowl of grits. "Yeah, he called me last night. He got all of 1D back," I reply, leaning against the counter.

"He called Mimi and told her that. It's been a while and that label fucked them over. Shit, you, too," she says while I make a bowl for myself.

"I mean, I didn't stay with them for more than a year. After Camila left, the label let Ally keep the baby so they wouldn't get any shit."

"But when she got pregnant they made her leave," she laughs bitterly. "Simian Cowbell had her crying for weeks. When she moved in with me, every night, she'd cry while I spoke to Danny." I shake my head, remembering those late night calls from Kid.

Camila was an absolute mess, but she still had us all. To add to the bullshit, her fans weren't very fond of Kid at first. They even believed Shawn was the real father until he was born.

And when I say that kid was born with a head full of hair. You didn't see the little dude's scalp upon arrival. They both cried, Camila didn't want them to take him for examination when the time came.

She was beyond happy.

Her first album was dedicated to Danny; Never Be The Same was actually for him. Her first single, Crying In The Club, was about both he and Kid.

Now, they have a little girl named Karlain who's a sickly sweet little three year old. But she's bad like how Louie was at that age.

Her whole career revolves around her family and her wife. Or Wubby, as Camila calls her.

"Yeah, and Harry said it'll be way better than... y'know."

"Did he link anybody else?" She asks as we go to the table we're everyone sat. "Not that I know of, but we're meeting there next week. Would Camila be there?"

Thankfully, she nods.

I haven't seen Camila since yesterday at the game, but it's been a long time since we actually sat down and hung out a little. With the kids and our still flowing careers, we've both been pretty busy.

Hopefully, this time they'd be able to take breaks. They worked those groups too hard when they were younger, especially the girls.