GUILT

Chapter 2

             Driving through town around this time of night through the hood was scary. You'd be lucky if a crackhead wouldn't be try to approach your car at a stop sign or if you wouldn't witness a shootout between wannabe gangsters. But it was a good thing Trae didn't stay on this side of town. Chantelle pulled into the parking lot, parking her car right next to his. She got out the car staring at the nicely built building. The Vielgo was newly built and had balconies on every window for the view over the city. Trae was too busy on his phone to notice Chantelle was at his window. She tapped on the tinted glass.

          "Hey big head," he smiled and turn the car off.

          Chantelle smiled, "You live big huh?"

          "Nah, not really. You do know I don't actually live here right?" Trae laughed at the thought that she could really believe he could stay here on a daily basis.

          "You dont?"

          "No, I stay on the other side of town. Where the real houses are."

          Chantelle smiled and imagined how his house could look. If he stayed where the rich people are, his house must be something real special, she thought. Trae and Chantelle began to walk inside the building. In the inside of the Vielgo, it was luxuriously decorated. The interior was beautiful and the service seemed very professional.

         "Hello, Mr. Jackson," the lady at the front desk greeted.

         "Hello, April," Trae said politely. He walked over to the elevator and allowed her to enter first. The elevator rode smoothly to the tenth floor and while arriving to the hallway, they walked towards the left to an exit door which lead out to the rooftop. The view was beyond astonishing because the lights lit up every inch of the city.

        "Why'd you bring me up here?" Chantelle asked amazed.

        "I just come here to think sometimes. I like the view and helps me to understand why I am the person I am," he replied.

        "This is amazing Trae."

        "Well, thank you. I'm not that much of a people-pleaser." Trae laughed and shook his head. While staring at the view, he searched for a black box he kept hidden on the rooftop.

        "What's that?" Chantelle asked.

        "You smoke?"

        "I've tried once in high school, but ever since then, I stopped and told myself I wouldn't anymore," she replied, holding her head in her hands as she tried to erase the lingering memories of the times her and her ex used to blow a couple of blunts every now and then. But she promised she would no longer after him and her broke up.

      "This will help everything you need help with." Trae took one and lit it between his fingers. The smoke filled the air and Chantelle's nose.

     "Why would you need help? It seem like you got it all going on." Chantelle scoffed.

     "Seems that way don't it? It's supposed to. This is my escape from the reality of things. The only thing that keeps me chilled and help me process thoughts, instead of letting my problems show; unlike you."

    "Unlike me? What does that mean. I don't have problems." Chantelle became offended.

    "See ma, first step of solving a problem is owning up to the problem. I see it in you."

    "See it in me?"

    Trae nodded his head and took another hit.

    "That's all you see in me?" Chantelle insisted on getting a better understanding.