The Price ࿊f Peace

☮️:023

Somewhere in Oakland

Much to Syara's surprise, Camarro wasn't mad. He wasn't yelling, he wasn't cussing, he was quiet and calm.

It was Leek who was pissed beyond speechless.

As for Hooty... this was one of the very few instances that one would find his name and speechless in the same sentence. Because he wasn't...like at any time.

"Cuban..." he was trying to form the sentences correctly in his brain, his two hands clapped together, pointed in her direction. "What the fuck do you be thinkin'?"

"I mean, come on, cuh." Hooty shook his head, letting out a chuckle or two. It was slightly hard to remain serious. The situation was kind of funny.

"She'on be thinking shit." Leek shook his head. "This shit—how many—why would yo'—cuh." Leek couldn't even form a sentence.

This was an incredibly stupid decision. Extremely. There were too many unknowns for her to dash off into the night like she was Batman or some shit.

Kisses had an angry pout upon her lips and a glint in her eyes. Her scowl had yet to even move.

Syara would definitely be getting an earful on the way home. Kisses had driven her to Camarro's, so that was her ride home. Plus, she and Kisses had a support in public, correct in private type of relationship.

Syara, not folding under their disapproving gazes, sat stone faced on Camarro's couch. Hindsight, that shit was kind of stupid.

They knew better than to expect her to admit that, however. She did what she did. It was what it was. She was grown, she'd do what she wanted and if she made a mistake, it was what it was. It was her life.

"What the fuck be wrong witchu', bro?" Leek asked her, squinting in her direction.

Syara remained unmoving as he continued on, falling into a rant about how reckless she was, and how she was stupid, but she wasn't stupid, but she was. And as you can imagine, it was all hoopla.

She was already starting to get re-agitated. Tara ass was still out there, probably spinning bullshit about that night, Syara didn't get to kill her, and she had her night ruined tremendously, as well as having to be in close proximity to her archniggasis twice in one day.

Plus, that nigga from the party was blowing her phone on text now.

"Leek." She cut him off with an agitated wave of her hand. "I ain' tryna hear allat right now."

That only set him off further, his eyes widened as he looked at her from where he was seated backwards on one of Camarro's dining room table chairs.

"Nigga—" he started, standing from where he was seated. He knocked his seat backwards in the midst of him standing up. Camarro was up immediately, trying to calm him down.

"Leek, chill." Marro tried in vain.

Camarro was tired from the whole night. It felt like shit just couldn't go right. He knew Leek felt similar, but it was harder to understand where he be coming from since it seemed like it was coming from a place of anger.

"She not hearing you, bro."

And she wasn't. The more she thought about it, the more pissed she got.

Syara stood from where she was seated, side-stepping Camarro to make her way to the kitchen, seemingly unconcerned about the situation with Leek, to wrapped up in her festering anger about the events that had transpired in the past few days.

Elijah sighed, standing from where he was leaning on the arm of Camarro's couch, to cut in front of Leek on his way to follow Syara into the kitchen. It was already plain as day that she didn't plan to listen to anything he had to say, Leek going in that kitchen would probably only make it worse.