Christopher Maurice Brown 24 years old. Los Angeles, CA ----- 4 AM
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The smoke curled up from the blunt, twisting lazily in the air as I passed it back to Trey. We were sitting in my living room, the place dark and quiet except for the faint hum of the AC. The only light came from the TV, casting shadows across Trey's face as he stared at the screen, lost in thought.
"Bruh, this shit wild," Trey finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was low, rough around the edges. "Alyssa out here actin' all types of crazy. Pregnant by Wayne? Like, what the fuck?"
I took a deep drag, holding the smoke in my lungs for a moment before letting it out slowly. "I saw that shit..." I shook my head chuckling, "She wildin' for real. But you know why she doin' it, right?"
Trey looked at me, his eyes heavy with something deeper than just anger. "Yeah... I know why," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "She think she getting under ah' nigga skin, but truth is I see through all this bullshit. And she know that."
I nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "But she is. She know she still got you, so she tryna push your buttons, see how far she can take it."
Trey clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists. "Yeah, well, it's workin'," he said, his voice tight. "But all I know it's when a bitch pop up and say that she pregnant with my baby. I'm getting a DNA test right then and there."
I took another hit, feeling the smoke burn my throat as I thought about what Trey was saying. "I feel you, man. But you gotta be smart 'bout this. Just don't go back to her ass. You gotta take control, figure out what you really want."
Trey nodded, but he didn't say anything. He just sat there, staring at the blunt in his hand, like it held the answers to all his problems.
After a long silence, Trey looked up at me, his eyes searching. "Where Aaliyah at? I ain't seen her around in ah' minute, man. She good?"
I sighed, the tension in my chest tightening up again. "She... she been in the room," I admitted, feeling the words weigh heavy in the air. "Ain't been out in days, bruh. She locked me out."
Trey raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Locked you out? Nigga, how she eatin'? She even survivin' in there?"
"Ciara got her key," I explained, rubbing the back of my neck. "She been bringin' her food every day, makin' sure she straight. But it's fucked up, man. I ain't seen her, I ain't talked to her. I'm out here feelin' like a ghost in my own damn house."
Trey shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "Damn, dawg. How you gettin' your shit? Clothes and all that?"
"Every mornin', she puts an outfit out for me," I said, the reality of the situation hitting me again. "Like, she tryna keep me straight but don't wanna see me. It's like she here, but she ain't, you feel me?"
Trey leaned back, his expression serious. "That's some cold shit, Chris. Da' hell you do to make her that mad?"
I took a deep breath, knowing I had to come clean. "Man... We was arguing the other day because she was on something and saw a picture- an old ass picture of me and Rih in the car. Over here saying 'oh this is our neighborhood you brought her over here', going crazy... and I told her Rih up the street," I confessed, my voice dry. "And she blew up, bruh. She ain't let that shit go, especially since I won't let her go back to her own apartment."
Trey looked at me like I had lost my damn mind. "I told you that was a dumb ass idea when you even said that shit to me in the first place," he said bluntly, shaking his head. "Knowing all that shit y'all already been through."
"I already know," I said, rubbing my temples as the stress of it all weighed down on me. "But I ain't want her goin' back to that apartment, just so she can call up that nigga and shit. I'm tryna keep her close, but she actin' like she don't even wanna see me no more."
Trey took another drag from the blunt, clearly thinking it over. "Bruh, the only thing you can do is get a new place. Away from Robyn's ass."
I sighed, the idea of moving making me feel even more stressed. "Ian moving, Trey," I said, shaking my head. "We just moved into this spot. I thought it was gon' be our place, you know? Somewhere we could start fresh. And now you tellin' me I gotta up and move again? That's just gon' be more bullshit, man."
Trey gave me a serious look, his voice steady. "It's either y'all move, or Aaliyah moves out again. And this time, she ain't gon' tell you where she goin'."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut.
But the idea of moving, of changing shit again, it felt like too much. I took another hit, the smoke filling my lungs as I tried to calm down.
"Man, I just... I don't know what to do," I admitted, feeling more lost than ever. "I want things to be good between us, but it's like every time I try to fix shit, I make it worse."
Trey leaned forward, looking me dead in the eye. "You gotta make a choice, Chris," he said seriously. "You either do what you gotta do to keep Aaliyah happy, or you risk losing her. And from what I see, moving is the only thing that's gon' fix this. Ain't no point in stayin' somewhere that's just gon' bring more drama. You gotta think about what's best for both of y'all."
I nodded, knowing he was right, but hating it at the same time. "Yeah... I hear you," I said, my voice heavy. "I just... I just hope it's enough, man. I don't wanna lose her, but I don't know how much more of this I can take."
Trey nodded, his expression sympathetic. "You'll figure it out, bruh. You always do. But don't wait too long, aight? You don't wanna push her too far."
I nodded, taking his words to heart as I took one last hit from the blunt. The night was quiet, but my mind was racing. I knew what I had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. I just hoped that when it was all said and done, Aaliyah would still be here.
I took a long drag from the blunt, letting the smoke fill my lungs before blowing it out slowly. Trey's words were still ringing in my ears—he was right, but that didn't make it any easier. Moving was gonna be a hassle, especially after everything we'd already been through. But what other choice did I have? I couldn't let Aaliyah slip away from me, not again.
I leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. "You know what else is fuckin' me up, Trey?" I said, my voice tight with frustration.
"What'?" Trey asked, passing the blunt back to me.
"Every time we get into it, every damn time, she calls Drake. Like clockwork, bruh. Soon as shit goes left, she pick up the phone and hits him up like he gon' come swoop in and save her. Like she don't love her life or some shit," I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
Trey looked at me with a mix of concern and disbelief. "For real? She still doin' that?"
"Hell yeah," I spat, the anger bubbling up again. "Acting like I ain't peep that shit. And every time she do that, it's like a slap in the face. Like, how you gon' call that nigga when I'm right here? After all we been through?- She better be happy I really ain't break that phone."
Trey shook his head, looking like he couldn't believe it. "Nigga you broke her phone?"
"Damn near, that shit bearly work."
"That shit weird."
"Exactly!" I said, feeling the heat rise in my chest. "It's like she don't even care, like she tryna rub it in my face. She knows I don't fuck with him, and she still pullin' that shit. Every time I turn around, it's like she tryna run to him. Like, why? What the fuck he gon' do for her that I can't?"
