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𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙤
Faint beeps of machines stationed around Amir's bed was proof that he was still living and breathing. The older male's brown skin was darker than usual, stemming from his kidneys failing rapidly. His health had declined to the extent where he wasn't producing urine anymore. It was only a matter of time before his idol would fade out.
Amir was the very reason why Angelo wanted to play basketball. The grandson of a legend, he was the only Laurent child to follow in his footsteps. His own father and Amir's only child didn't even play the sport. He went into real estate. Mercedes was multifaceted. He could play both basketball and football, but the latter captured his heart. Angelo was the only one who lived and breathed basketball like his Hall of Famer grandfather.
Sitting by his bedside, tears accumulated inside the corners of his eyes. His nose was red and flared with tension. He wanted to let out a sob for the man he adored, but he didn't want Amir to see him like that. The doctor may have said one thing. Gelo was believing another. Amir was invincible and immortal in his eyes. He couldn't succumb to the final stage of kidney disease.
Swiping the tears before they could drip out, he sniffled up watery mucus. Amir's eyes fluttered open, causing his grandson's heart to jump nearly outside of his chest. His body shot up from the hard, uncomfortable chair, hand latching onto his quickly. "Gramps, it's me" Amir's head slowly turned in his direction. Sick and all, his signature smile still possessed charm and lit up the entire room. "Hey, jr." His nickname parted from the male's dry, cracked lips in a raspy tone. Bryson was nothing like him, so he didn't call his only child junior. Angelo acted just like him.
"My tongue is so dry" He complained, coughing softly. "I need some water" Gelo's heart broke for him. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news. His eyes went to the tray next to his bed. A wet swab was resting on a plate. They used it simply to wet his lips, every now and then. He couldn't drink anything because he couldn't pee it out. Angelo brought the swab up to lips, soaking them with as much water as he could. He never knew how much of a privilege drinking water was until he witnessed Amir hungrily licking the drips off his lips.
"Is that better?" He nodded up and down slowly, offering a small smile of reassurance. He then gestured with his fingers weakly for Angelo to have a seat. Angelo caught the signal and sat down. Amir stared off, eyes fixed on the mounted television. The news was displayed on it. Ironically, it was the sports portion playing. They were talking about the Pelicans' preseason coming up. Angelo's face was plastered on it. Amir's grin was full of pride. He was proud of his grandson for having a career that was almost a decade long. His longevity mirrored his own.
Suddenly, the smile dropped. Angelo started to panic. "Gramps, what's wrong?" He sat on the edge of the chair. "You're just like me" He rasped, clearing his throat afterward. He spoke a little clearer and louder. "I never married your grandmother. She was the closest I got to marrying someone. She gave me my only son. I made the others terminate the pregnancies. Do you know what that must've been like for those women back then?" A brief pause came. "Those botched abortions done in apartment buildings with unsterilized tools" Tears came to his eyes, which shocked Angelo. He had never seen him shed tears before. Even when his grandmother passed, Amir didn't cry. He was drunk at her funeral. "I wonder if this is why God is making me suffer like this. Vengeance is his, you know"
"Don't say that" Angelo told him and the look he gave him was chilling. "You'll end up just like me if you don't get it together now. Abortions may not be as painful as what those women endured in the '70s and '80s, but you toying with their feelings hurts just the same" A single tear escaped his eye, bottom lip quivering. The fear inside of a once fearless man's gaze terrified him. "I'm going to die alone and I deserve it for what I've done to people"
Angelo shook his head in denial, water filling his eyes. He couldn't hold back anymore. They fell down his face and his heart was quaking. "No, you're n-not. I'm a be-" Amir squeezed his hand to the best of his ability. "You're going to get it together because you're not going to be like me. I'm a make sure of it"
Suddenly, a middle-aged woman walked into the room with multiple folders pressed to her chest. She stopped in her tracks and awkwardly shifted her eyes between the two men. "Oh. I'm sorry. Am I interrupt-" Amir held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay, Melissa" She gave a genuine smile and let a breath go. "Okay. I'm here to finish your will with you..."
Angelo left the conversation the moment she uttered 'will' His heart grew heavy inside of his chest. Like a zombie, his body wandered out of the room with shock written all over his face. He couldn't fathom losing the man who taught him the game. Amir couldn't die. Gelo was zoned out until he saw his younger brothers jogging side by side towards the room.
Mercedes was dressed in a Vikings sweatsuit, probably because he came straight from the plane to be with their grandfather. Seeing the Vikings' logo brought back the post-game interview. Angelo forgot all about Amir's ailing health. He closed his door before the brothers could enter and led them to a secluded corner away from the nosy nurses' station.
"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked in confusion, looking him up and down. His eyes softened and settled on his. They were still red and a little teary, which worried Mercedes. "It's bad huh?" He blew out a breath and prepared himself for what he was about to see. "Okay. I don't care how bad it is. I jus-"
"What am I doing?" Angelo chuckled angrily, eliminating the space between them. "Nigga, what are you doing on television with my ex?" Their baby brother Cashmir stood by their side, darting his eyes between them.
Even in the face of his brother's fury, Mercedes kept his composure. He may have been five years younger, but he was more mature. "Are you referring to your ex from USC?" Gelo nodded his head repeatedly. "You damn right. You know who I'm referring to"
"Your ex...from USC" He slowed it down, peering back at his brother. "You're thirty. Do the math. You were drafted at twenty-one. You left USC at twenty. That was ten years ago-" Angelo screwed his face up, cutting him off. "Yeah, but I was still fucking with Nashea in my rookie year. I just fu-" He trailed off, not wanting to admit his wrongs aloud. "Look, it doesn't matter. You're still fucking a girl that I fucked. That's against bro code"
"Bro, you're thirty. Five years older than me. Grow up. I don't give a fuck about a nigga my girl fucked when she was twenty. My body count is like forty. Imagined if she judged me based on all the orgies I had at LSU and the first two years of my professional career" Mercedes shrugged it off coolly. "I care about what's happening now and who she's involved with now" He emphasized and pushed back into Angelo's chest, standing toe to toe with him. "And that's me. That's all me. When you look at her, you don't see USC no more. That shit's dead. You see me" he touched his chest and stared deep into his eyes. "Because that's the woman I plan to marry. I already have the ring" He bumped his shoulder, staring him down while passing by.
Angelo was left standing there with a dumbfounded look displayed on his visage. Mercedes left him with so many things to process. His mind was still trying to cope with news of his hero's impending death. Now Mercedes added more shocking news that left him frozen in place.
"You know I was always team Brandi" Cash snapped him from his thoughts, drawing his attention to his grinning face. The popular streamer had a set of gold grills covering his teeth. "You know, during the whole USC love triangle thing? Brandi was bad as fuck, bruh. What happened to her?"
Another relationship that met its demise at the hands of Angelo. He was very self-destructive in his twenties. He had just entered his thirties, and they were turning out to be just like the previous decade of his life. Filled with a bunch of bad decisions. It was easy to ignore or shrug them off when you were rich. He could buy a million Brandis and Nasheas.
The woman left out of the room, pulling their attention to her strutting by. She held the folders tighter than before like they were worth billions of dollars. That's because they were. Angelo pondered what all was placed in the will. Surely, Amir wouldn't leave him out of it.
Suddenly, those beeps came more rapidly and Mercedes was racing out of the room frantically. Tears were running down his face as he cried for help. "Somebody help! Please!"
