{JAYONCÉ FAN-FICTION}
It is the year 2007. Sixteen years have passed since Beyoncé moved away from Jackson, Mississippi and has last seen Jay. A lot changed since then. What happens when they finally reunite? Is the love for one another still there...
Jay spent the long ride back to Rochester in a good mood, excited about the future of this company he built with his own money. Now, he couldn't wait to go to Houston just because Nate was willing to be his partner. The legality of the situation will still need to be drafted, but a verbal contract will suffice for now.
Finally passing the "Welcome to Rochester" sign, Jay's mood drastically changed. He knew he'd have to return to Paris' house to pack his belongings, which was bittersweet. He hoped Paris spared him the responsibility of telling the kids himself.
On his way to the house, Jay drove by 40/40 to see the parking lot full. He told himself he'd make a stop-through to check on his employees after he finished.
Jay arrived at the house and saw several cars in the driveway. He shook his head as he exited his truck and entered the residence. The smell of weed hit his nostrils in seconds. He strolled down the hall and saw some people outside through the sliding glass doors. The French doors opened, and Taniqua walked in with a blunt in hand.
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"Oh hey, Jay," she smirked as she eyed him up and down, blowing smoke. Taniqua was Emory Sr.'s long-time girlfriend. Jay didn't know her well because she wasn't around back then, but when Emory died, he got to know her much better. She was a cool lady —and wild.
"What's good, Niq? Who y'all got out there?" Jay questioned her.
"It's the kids and Jr's teammates outside. They were hooping, and now they're fussing about sports. I had to tell them to tone it down before y'all racist neighbors call the cops!" She shook her head as she walked to the fridge for a late-night snack. Jay watched her maneuver around with lustful eyes but quickly shook it off. He looked at the blunt at her lips.
"Don't worry, it's just me smoking. I know how you are about Jayshawn." Niq read Jay's mind perfectly. He didn't care about what the others did, but he was always strict about his blood son smoking weed —especially since one of his friends from high school tragically died smoking a blunt laced with Fentanyl. It spooked Jayshawn forever.
"Good. Where's Paris?" He asked.
"She had a late client at the shop. I came over to make dinner. Are you hungry? You want a plate?" she offered him.
"Nah, I ate, but thanks." Jay walked over to the sliding glass doors and opened them, letting his presence be known to the young boys. "So, who won???" He interrupted their feud.
"Hey, Pops!" Jayshawn stood from his seat to dap his father up. "You know how we doing. We defended our home court straight up!" He spoke pridefully.
"Man, you missed it, Unk. It was a good ass game." Emory dapped him up next.
"I had some business to take care of, but I'll catch the next one for sure. I'll get out y'all way, though; I gotta go pack my stuff," Jay told them nonchalantly.
