LOST WITHOUT YOU

CHAPTER ONE

May 18, 2023. Four days after his interview with D.J Akademiks

ATLANTA, GEORGIA. MID MORNING.

DURK...

"I can't stand his fat ass, he could choke on ma dick and die fa all I care," Durk frowned as he drew from his laced blunt.

Thug laughed at him. "How come you ain't say dat while he was interviewing you?,"

"I was bein' professional. If I was ta pop off and bust his ass, he would've fucked ma bag up, ain't got time fa dat."

Thug hummed as he grabbed the blunt between Durk's fingers. "I don't care, I would've waited until we got off camera and really showed how we Chicago niggas work."

Durk laughed, "Of course you would, wit yo joker lookin' ass."

The reason Durk is so upset about the interview was because of D.J, the nigga did nothing but stir shit up, just like a ratchet bitch. When he showed him the footage of YB calling him out, he wanted to reach across and dive on his ass.

"Fuck you, dread headed bitch!" Were the words that echoed through his mind.

"When I see you, it's up, believe dat!" Rung in his ear like a chirping heart monitor.

He's not scared of YB, he kills niggas like him for boredom. It's just, he's been in his shoes before, he had friends like him who were hot headed and angry at the world. Von, rest to little twin, would be in and out of prison because he had no love and guidance.

Then he met Durk and everything...well, almost everything changed, Von still talked shit about his opps on IG, but at least he was out of prison.
Anyway back to the topic at hand, he sees Von's younger self in YB. Abandonment and distrust. Although he can't stand his cocky sounding, demonic looking, ass. He would hate to hear on the news that he was shot and killed outside of anywhere.

Maybe he should contact him and get this drama shit straightened out, because believe it or not, these two use to be cool with each other, on IG live laughing and sharing music...that was until Von stepped in and said Yb was "Cap about his raps,"
Durk looks back at that moment and chuckles. Von was such a damn troublemaker...He misses that fool...

Taurus busted through the studio door. His phone in his hand, he looked angry, he stormed over and shoved his phone in Durk's face. "Dis fuck nigga dissin' yo ass on live and you in hea' fuckin' smokin',"

Durk sighed heavily. Fog flooding out his lips. "Yeah, what's it ta ya?"

"Nigga, are you serious? He made uh whole song---,"

"So what? Let him get all dat shit out his system, at least I ain't in house arrest." He shrugged. "When he done, I got sumthin fo 'im,"

...

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH.

KENTRELL...

"Yeahhh, bitch!" Kentrell smiled as he swung back and forth to his own diss track. His friend danced behind him. Swinging his chain.

"Tell dem all dat I'm ballin'!, Fuck ya and bitch I catch ya often! You dread headed bitch, I know you watchin'! Fuck you, ya mama, dat fat butter face bitch D.J, and dat budget bratz doll lookin' hoe, ya heard meh!,"

His friend laughed. "Budget bratz doll!?"

"If I see ya in public it's on nigga! I ain't gon hold back! I hope you don't hold back eithea, I'm ready ta die! Ion wanna live no mo!,"

Although Kentrell was smiling, he was crying for help on the inside. His eyes gleamed of depression and loneliness. His eyes expanded and everything seem to have gone in slow motion. Kentrell reached forward and ended his live. He went to grab his phone, but he collapsed and fell on his ass. His friend rolled his eyes and walked off.

"You gotta stop drinkin'," Tyquian frowned as he walked over with a chair. He pulled and helped Kentrell off the ground.

"Say slime, say, I do, I do---,"

"Whatevea da fuck you want, I know, I'm just concerned Trell."

Tyquian sat Kentrell on the wooden chair.

He hated seeing his ride or die, slowly dying before him. Ever since his "wifey" left, he had drunk and smoked more. Everyone who tried to get him help, he instantly, subconsciously drove them away. Ben left. Joe dissed him, stole his things, then left.
Tyquian and Jesse were his only friends.

"Anythang from Durk yet?,"

Tyquian rolled his eyes. If there's one thing about Kentrell, he loves trolling his opps.

"Not yet, but considerin' what you just said on live, it won't be long until he responds." Tyquian said.

Kentrell smiled, the thought of Durk pacing back and forth with anger and despair turned him on.

There was something about Durk though that made him...blush. Whether it was his smile, his laugh, his accent, or his tatted body. Sometimes Kentrell would stay up all night and just stare at google images of Durk.
He would secretly hate watch his IG lives and interviews. He couldn't help it, Durk was like a drug. He wanted more of him, so why did he start dissing Durk?

Easy question, easy answer.
Durk seemed to be the only one who could deal with his shit. Fuck what D.J was saying about him, when he found out Durk was on his platform, he knew he had to hop on the attention seeking train.

"Yo? Yo?!," Tyquian yelled. He snapped his fingers in Kentrell's face.

Kentrell stopped his gazing and looked at him, a frown appeared on his face. "What nigga?,"

"Yo ass was zonin' out, It look like you was finna throw up," Tyquian frowned back.

"Nah, far from dat, where Jes?" Kentrell stretched his limbs, the wooden chair he sat in was giving him a cramp.

"He went home...I don't know why you still got dat nigga around you, he clearly hea' fa ya money," He grumbled as he helped Kentrell out the wooden chair.

"When you not hea', he be takin' care of meh," Kentrell mumbled lowly.

"He must be doin' uh half ass job, he suppose ta be stoppin' you from smokin' and drinkin', all I see is him encouragin' ya."

Kentrell rolled his eyes. God, sometimes Tyquian can be so annoying. Like, yeah, Tyquian's trying to save him from destruction, but he's not always there when he's crying, or wishing death upon himself.