Illusion : A Dr.Dre Fan Fiction ( Completed )

10.

Kiyanne

It has been three weeks since I've decided that I was going to muster up the courage to tell Keenon that I want to break things off. Every time I thought about doing it, I got sick to my stomach. It's doesn't make sense. I never would of thought that I would be leaving since he's all I know.

I sat down in our living room of our home, dressed in a white cashmere top, black Seven Jeans with a pair of all white Manolo Blanik heels that Keenon bought me for my birthday. My hair was flat iron boned straight as my jet-black hair fell to my shoulders. I looked pretty good, despite I was about to make a life altering decision.

To be honest, I've spent all day packing my bags and I've already moved everything into Dre's house. Most of the stuff that had sentimental value I pawned because I wanted to create new beginnings and memories with Andre. For once, I looked forward to something. I've done a lot of trifling shit in my past and present life and I am a true believer of Karma. Keenon can't give me what I need, and I don't want to sit around and wait for him to give it to me.

Over time, Keenon and I's relationship has became so fucked up. We would argue, he would leave, and I end up crying. Or fists and furniture would start flying. When he decided he had a home to return to, he would come home and apologize. I'd forgive him, and the cycle would just continue.

The shit comes to an end today.

2 Hours went by and I finally heard Keenon coming through the front door. He looked as if he was bothered by something. He threw his keys on the wall unit as he unbuckled his watch band, tossing the watch to the side on the table.

"Wassup?" Keenon greeted as he looked in my direction.

I sat on the couch, sipping a glass of wine to get me buzzed and a little more confident for the shit I was about to tell him.

"Hey."

"You good?"

I placed the cup onto the cup coaster and stood up. "Keenon we need to talk."

"Bout what man?", Keenon said with annoyance in his voice.

Nigga aint been home 2 minutes and he's already acting as if I'm such a nuisance to him. I can't lie, the shit kind of hurts but the shit that's about to happen will fucking hurt him more than this little shit I'm feeling.

"Look. I've been doing some thinking on the real." I said as I inhaled deeply, then exhaling.

"Thinking on what? What could you possibly be thinking about?"

"A lot Keenon. I don't know why you acting so nasty towards me."

"Aww, here you go with this sentimental, emotional cry baby shit." Keenon groaned as he plopped down on the couch.

"Excuse me! I'm sitting here trying to tell you something and you acting as if I'm causing you such grief by being here and speaking to you.!" I said with anger in my voice.

"A nigga wants to come home and see his woman cooking over the stove, a blunt rolled a cold fuckin beer on the table. All you do is cry, bitch, whine and moan about nothing. I give you everything, put your ass through school, buy you everything you'd asked me for and what do I get? Not a damn thing so please. If a nigga doesn't feel like talking, then a nigga doesn't feel like talking. What the fuck Ki?" Keenon yelled as he stared me in my eyes.

"You know what." I said as I shook my head. "You've said enough. All I wanted to do was talk but since you don't care about my fucking feelings I'm not gonna give a damn about your feelings!"