19 years ago today around 4:02 pm pacific time we lost a legend. He goes by the name Tupac Amaru Shakur. He touched many of our hearts by his powerful words, but left a mark in music's history itself. Even though I wasn't born, nor do I know him, I mentally feel like I do through his poetry, and his rap. May he be missed, but never be forgotten.
~Rest In Paradise June 17, 1971- September 13, 1996~
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"If you don't know me, don't judge me"
X.Tupac.X
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Keyanna.
"Keyanna!" Bryson exclaimed
"I'm hea' "
"I got them to sleep." I noticed the bunny laying on the bed with Harley and Ari sleeping.
I was in some sweats and a tshirt, Bryson had joggers and no shirt on.
"That was quick." I said congratulating him and going into the kitchen. He hopped up on the counter and sat there as I drank my juice.
"I have my ways."
I laughed "ight maybe you can teach me"
He shook his head "Na"
I rolled my eyes and walked to my room grabbing my phone. I notice I got a few miss calls. All from August. I checked the text message he sent and it said 0%. I frowned not getting it.
I sent a question mark and stuffed it into my pocket.
I walked to the living room where I notcied Bryson laying on the couch using his iPad up close. He didn't notics notice I was present so I slowly sat next to him.
"Whatchu doin'?" I asked he slightly jumped.
"Oh uh videogames." I frowned not believing him when he wasn't paying attention I snatched the iPad. He was on YouTube watching the top 10 sex scenes.
"Wow such a weird áss." He had no words. He eyed me then he eyed his iPad.
He snatched his iPad away from me.
"Its quality stuff don't touch my shit" I laughed harder.
"Sex videos are quality stuff? Tf can you learn from it?"
He directed his iPad toward me and I looked at it. It showed a couple or whatever having sex, doing multiple tricks that I didn't even know was existed.
August.
I made my way to Keyanna's door with questions filling my mind. La'Nisha told me I should talk to her and I decided I would. I knocked on the door and patiently waited. No one responded so I knocked again, but harder this time.
The door opened and I'm standing here faced with who? This Bryson Tiller nigga. Why? I don't know.
"Keyanna hea' ?" I asked
"Yeah she's in the bathroom.' "
I stepped inside the hotel room, and stood there waiting. I figured since it was just me and Bryson that I could have a talk with him.
"Look ion want no problems between us" He said out of the blue. "Im just a friend of Keyanna's, and all we do is hang out"
"If all yall do is hang out then why you ain't got no shirt on ya?"
"It's hot"
"You inside, there's a/c clearly blowin'”
" Why do you even care,?” He had the nerve to question
