LOST WITHOUT YOU

CHAPTER THREE

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. EVENING.

Twelve days after "Kentrell's" tweet.

KENTRELL...

"She said baby blue like she from Carolina." Kentrell rapped as he bobbed his head to the beat. Jonathan sat beside him. His grills glistening, he was smiling big as hell.

"I looked in yo eyes but you looked at da floor---,"

Kentrell spun in his chair. He was glowing. Tyquian was right, he did needed some time away from the internet. Focus on his health and his music. He didn't care if his fans looked at him as a pussy for not responding to Durk about Floss. His real fans gone love him for him.

Kentrell laughed cutely as Jonathan stood up from his chair and started to dance. "Ain't dis what dem young niggas be doin'?" He sounded like a Uncle at the barbecue cookout.

Jonathan was the perfect match for Kentrell, he was funny, soft spoken, dangerous, and a troll.
When Jonathan had came over to Kentrell's house to collab, the two immediately clicked. They stayed up all night talking about life and death, love and hate, drugs and rehab.

Jonathan was like the positive side to Kentrell's negative side.

"Kai be doin' dat sturdy shit, shit look stupid," Kentrell commented.

"Gwad damn, shit makin' me outta breath." Jonathan breathed as he grabbed his chair and sat down. "I'm gettin' ta old fa dis shit."

Tyquian stepped through the studio door, Kentrell's phone in his hand. He walked over to Kentrell and turned the music off.

Jonathan and Kentrell turned to him with frowns of frustration.

"What's ta ya nigga?," Jonathan said.

Tyquian ignored him and turned to Kentrell. "You said you was gone leave dis internet shit alone."

"I did," Kentrell arched his brow. "Haven't been on ma phone since Durk responded."

"Someone begs da differ'," Tyquian shoved his phone into his chest.
Kentrell grabbed his phone and looked at an unknown number. He unmuted it and put it on speaker. "Yo?,"

"If I see ya in Atlanta it's ovea fa ya," the voice foamed of rage.

"Who da fuck is dis?," Kentrell frowned.

"Don't worry 'bout it pussy, just know dat you should've nevea spoke 'bout Von."

"I ain't said shit about da nigga, look, are you uh fan of Durk or sum shit? Dis uh prank?,"

Jonathan snickered.

"He not gon fuck ya, slime." Kentrell commented. "Get off ma phone, you runnin' ma data up,"

"Fuck you and fuck Floss."

Before the call ended he heard a soft, "Who you on the phone wit?,"
Kentrell hung his phone up and handed it back to Tyquian. "Who da fuck was dat?,"

Tyquian shrugged.

"How did dey get ya nunber?," Jonathan frowned.

"Ion know, but, Tyquian I ain't said or sent nothin'," Kentrell was telling the truth.

Tyquian's eyes wondered before they had darkened. "Jesse."

Kentrell squinted his eyes. "What 'bout 'im?,"

"Dat nigga is da reason. Did you see your Twitter? Your post is blowin' up. Shade room is talkin' 'bout it."

Jonathan pulled out his phone. He unlocked his phone and went straight to his Twitter. He went to Kentrell's tweet and his brows rose. "Damn, dis shit is worse dan Durk's."