Ride or Die.

6️⃣

'

Houston, Texas
8:22 PM
Shawn Carter

.

I had skipped church that Sunday cuz I had something to do, but I got a party invite in the mail. They must've got my address from a form they had me fill out. It was an invitation to Beyoncé 18th birthday party.

I got dressed in the most fly fit that I matched with a new pair of jordans; you couldn't tell the kid he didn't look fresh.

Bryshere walked in with a big smile on his face as I was brushing through my shortcut "I'm taking at least two baddies home dressed in this!"

I stared at him "nigga, where's yo shirt?"

"When you got a body like this you don't need a shirt, this is what the ladies want to see," he answered, unzipping the yellow hoodie he wore some more exposing his bare torso.

"Nigga nobody wanna see that bird chest of yours."

"Whatever! What time are we headed out?"

"We can go now." I decided. Aunt Tori sat on the couch watching an episode of American Idol but as soon as we stepped into the living room all attention was on us.

"Where y'all headed to?"

"Out with some friends," I replied casually.

"Why y'all ain't bringing Wyatt along and it better not be to go hang with them hoodlums on 43rd str-"

"He sick and nah we going to chill with some girlfriends." Bryshere cut her off before she could really start yapping and talking with her hands like she usually does when she's angry.

"Girlfriends?! Bryshere Y. Carter you better not have them lil hoochies bringing a baby to my doorstep talkin' bout it's yours, ya hear?" She snapped.

"Yeah."

"Yeah what?"

"Yea-yes, ma'am."

"Good! Now give me a kiss..." She said as he went over kissing her cheek as I try keeping in my laughter at the whole thing. "Y'all be good and y'all betta be back here before them streetlights com-"

I shut the door before she could continue as we then walked to my car.

Aunt Tori trippin' if she thinks she can give me a curfew. Bryshere sat in the passenger seat flipping through radio stations stopping on some r&b. "Boy, if you don't get this shit off my radio I'ma know something!" I told him.

"Man, this Pretty Ricky!" He responded before singing along.

"Pre- hell nah you bout a second away from being ejected out yo seat."

He laughed, "nigga you never played a slow jam for a girl when you got her alone, if not... Pretty Ricky is them niggas to play."

I shook my head not believing this lil nigga thought he was G enough to give me relationship advice.

We rolled up in front of the building and got out. Shoot! ion know why I was expecting an actual party, it was bout dead as shit inside of the bowling alley. People stood on the walls with their heads in their phones. While some sat at the tables on their phones. All dressed in outfits that looked casket-ready.

Christian rock was playing throughout the place, again! It was dead as shit in here.

Bryshere instantly turned around ready to leave as I grab him back by his hood.

"Jay, I ain't doing this."

"C'mon man just 30 minutes," I begged as he sighed zipping up his hoodie.