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Chapter Four - Knuck If You Buck
PRESENT TIME
These fans of Shia must be a damn cult.
I swear, they were probably supporting the group's Tiktok just to lust over him rather than listen to us sing and promote our music. Nigga ain't even that cute though. I guess all you have to do is have dreads now a days to get a girl weak in the knees.
Somebody's federal ass was recording our fight at the restaurant, and it ended up in the hands of The Shade Room. That was like a rally call for all the Shia Raymond stans to infiltrate my account, leaving me hate messages, death threats, and telling me I was just waste of space in the group.
Apparently, it was also going around that I was "kicked out of the group". And I fought Shia because he was my replacement. Which was only 50% correct. But you know how black twitter is. They'll take a bit of information and run with it like it was the truth.
I just closed out of the app. Y'all not about to stress me on my damn phone.
After a fifteen minute ride from the restaurant, The car eased up to the sidewalk, stopping in front of a grand three-story house.
The streetlights bathed the night in a comforting glow, casting a gentle light on the house's sky blue walls and pristine white trimmings. A sign hung proudly, displaying "Our Lady's Peace Salon" in pink.
A small door nestled to the side, leading to the duplex where Chantelle's housing unit resided.
Shia's car pulled up behind us, its headlights illuminating Chantelle's car. Manu, Omari, and Santana rode with him, while I rode with Chantelle.
The tension between me and her lingered, stifling any conversation as we rode in silence. I mean, I literally fought her nephew at a party that she threw for me. Safe to say I wouldn't know what to say either.
Our destination was her duplex, a place that was shared with her own beauty salon.
I got out of the car, already seeing the others making their way across the lawn to the side door.
A shadow came around the side of Chantelle's building.
I didn't expect Chantelle to have company. a man's silhouette was illuminated by the orange glow of a streetlight. it took me a moment to realize he was pushing a black lawn mower across her perfectly trimmed lawn towards his truck that was also parked against the sidewalk.
This man must've been here multiple times before. Not only did Chantelle trust him on her property while she was gone, but the boys each dapped him up like he was one of them. I never seen this man in my life.
He had ivory cream skin and a sharp jawline. He was in nothing but a tank top, drenched spots scattered across the gray fabric. His white towel hung around his neck, riddled with tattoos.
