8 - overthinking

591 31 12
                                    

Jahseh

My phone lights up from an incoming notification for the hundredth time this past hour.

You got a new match 😍😍😍

Reading the notification with the greatest amount of disinterest, I toss my phone on the bed. My attention drifts to my laptop again, running a hand through my dreadlocks.

It's 11:32 P.M. — which means I've spent the past four hours trying to finish the song.

All I know for now is that it's called Look At Me. I've got the first verse drafted, but for some reason it's lacking something.

Maybe it's because I've been feeling numb.

My phone buzzes once again, but this time it's from an incoming call. It's Ski. I immediately slide my finger across the screen.

"Yo, Jahsehhhhh!" he slurs, stretching out my name like chewing gum. He's definitely high.

"Ski, man, wassup?"

"Wanna chill?"

"As long as you don't wake up my mom and Aiden," I say, fiddling with my dreads by pulling them in front of my face. 

"Fuck... I haven't seen Cleo in ages, man," Ski says, his euphoric state making him chuckle.

"All due respect but," I wipe my lip with the pad of my thumb. "After the whole prison thing I don't think she wants you to come over."

"Damn. Does she not know you was the crazy ass with the idea?"

I let out a laugh that's almost too loud.

"I'm pulling your leg, vro. She motherfuckin' loves you." 

"You got me, vro." Ski laughs on the other end, making me shake my head with a grin. 

"Hurry up, though," I insist, looking at the time again. It's 12 A.M. now.

"Okay. I'll hit you up when I get there," Ski says before ending the call. 

Around fifteen minutes later a light beams through my window from an incoming car. In fact. Ski's Range Rover has been parked in the driveway, which would probably piss the shit out of my mom if she saw it. 

My phone buzzes and it's a message from Ski saying he's downstairs. I make my way down to the front door as silently as possible before swinging it open.

"Vroo!" Ski's words are slurred, but I force him to stay quiet by pressing my hand against his mouth. Ski nods, understanding that even if he's baked as fuck, he can't wake everyone up. Leading him to my room, I make sure my door is locked before letting out an exhale. 

The truth is, we've been sneaking each other into our rooms since we were fourteen years old. It's not like it's a secret that we hang out and bun all the time, but I still feel like my mom shouldn't know the details. 

"Remember, no yelling and shit," I say barely above a whisper.

"Okay," he murmurs, eyeing my room. He's been here hundreds of times, which makes me wonder what he's looking at. His eyes set on my laptop which is on my desk. "Have you been working on that song you told me about?"

"Yeah. It's not done yet, but it's something."

"Can I hear it?" Ski asks, making me nod.

Passing the laptop to Ski, I throw myself on the bed with a grunt. For some reason, my bed still feels somewhat foreign since I got back from prison. 

"This is dope, man."

"You like it?"

"It's punchy. The distorted backtrack works well, cuz." Ski bops his head in the beat of the song, fully engrossed in the lyric pad next to him.

elude // jahseh onfroyWhere stories live. Discover now