Another Man's Treasure (Joey Bada$$ Story)

Part Ventisei

I felt embarrassed.

By now, people were paying attention. Some out of their windows, some had stepped boldly out of their houses - everyone on the block was looking at the unbelievably ratchet brawl that just took place on an otherwise quiet, wholesome street. What must’ve been even more intriguing to them was how Joey carried me out like a father would a little girl, transferring me to Kirk after he didn’t even want to be seen with me. He stomped ahead of us, not looking for incoming traffic, leaving me in tears and shame.

CJ couldn’t even look at me. It wasn’t because he was disgusted with me, I could tell, but because he knew that he was the last person I wanted to see. He was the friend who I was always trying to prove myself to, the friend of Joey who was essential to my staying with him. Not that Joey’s impression of me entirely depended on him, but their thoughts were related in that kind of way. And ever since I first met him, CJ always thought and spoke highly of me. So for him to witness me now, a different girl than before, was beyond a deplorable experience.

Kirk helped me, though. He walked close to me and held me back when there were cars coming, and he stopped in a bodega to get me a drink of water. His kindness was rooted in pity, so it was hard to appreciate at that moment. All I could do was look down, count my steps and try my best not to cry anymore - because if there was anything I’d learned in my life, it was that tears don’t fix anything.

Finally, we made it  back to the hotel. The other guys weren’t there, fortunately. They’d either gone out or were in their respective rooms. Kirk and CJ dropped us off in our room and, after giving me a look of confidence that said ‘don’t worry, things will be alright’ (which, by the anger swimming through Joey’s eyes, was a lie), left us to our privacy. Just the two of us, quiet as ever.

I took off my shoes and jacket. I wanted to take everything off and hop in the shower, but the grime I felt was something water couldn’t wash off. There was something on my heart, a coat of humiliation and despair, that I didn’t know how to break. At least not now. So I sat down on the bed, right in front of the window, and looked out. I remembered the moment I shared with Darius and how peaceful I felt then, how distant I was from everything tangible. All that existed was me, him, his voice, and the perfect silence in the rest of the house that seemed to melt in the air like cotton candy in my mouth. That’s how it was now - I couldn’t hear or feel anything but the shock of glancing further into my view, above and over the rooftops, to see the sunset. It was a rarity for me, especially because of how busy I always was. It looked unreal in its rich, bold swirl of pink and yellow, almost like someone had taken a picture and taped it onto the window. I got lost in it, how the image poured through the spaces of obstructing chimneys, how nothing could interrupt it. I almost began to drift off to sleep, and then there was a loud, violent bang from across the room.

It was Joey. He’d left his position of standing over the kitchen sink and had slammed himself down into a chair, his face buried in his hands. I pondered for a moment - I could ignore him and keep looking at the sky, since the shield over my heart began to feel softer the more I stared, or I could stop chasing temporary solutions and go over to him. I could speak to him.

So I went. With caution, I stood from the bed and tip-toed to the other side. I was about to sit down in front of him until I heard it, the whimper that pierced my ears and broke my heart. I almost couldn’t believe that it came from him at first, but there were more, and it was suddenly obvious that he was crying.

It was my fault. I’d pushed him to tears. I took a happy, positive, look-at-the-bright-side boy and made him cry. Everything I touched turned to dust, and this was all my fault.

I pulled his hand away from his face, forcing him to sit up, and planted myself onto his lap. I did it slowly, to make sure that he was actually okay with me even being near him. He didn’t throw me off of him, didn’t start to clench his jaw and breathe harder. So I stayed. I gazed into nothingness, thinking about what I could say or what I could do or why I felt so comfortable here.

“Why are you crying, Joey?” I finally looked him in his eyes. They were red, this time not from smoking. He looked up at me and then quickly away, like it pained him to even see me. But he didn’t look disgusted anymore, just ashamed: like me.

“It’s just too much stress, Jamie.” The voice he spoke in wasn’t his own, but instead of someone who was finished, who had reached the end of fighting and was ready to give up. “I’m putting too much energy into trying to figure out what is going on in my life, in my head. I met you completely out of nowhere and instantly started to fall in love with you. I’ve needed you since I first told you how I felt, and I’ve never felt threatened where that’s concerned. But today...today that changed. Today I really, truly felt like you were going to leave me. I don’t know what I’ll do if you go, Jamie. You’re like Steez to me. That’s why I was kind of reluctant to get close to you, because I don’t want to lose someone important all over again. But I can’t help it with you. Every time you’re out of my sight I get scared. The way Darius looks at you...it scares me. What if you fall for him? I mean, truthfully, what do I have on him? He’s single, stable in almost every way possible, and has no kids. Me? I have an ex-girlfriend who won’t leave me alone, my heart and mind are wrecked from losing my best friend, the one who I wanted to change the world with, and I have a baby on the way. I just can’t see why you wouldn’t choose him over me, and that breaks my heart whenever I dare to think about it.”

I was in tears now. I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was that I was feeling - whether it be shock, sadness, anger at myself - but above all, I felt secure. I never knew that Joey was so much like me. Not a superhero, an imperfect human being with real emotions, who had real breakdowns from time to time. I had my breakdown at Melissa’s house, and he was having his now. That’s how it always was. Even if I didn’t notice it, we were always strong together and weak together, for each other. I loved him for what he was and he loved me for what I was.

But we never confessed it to each other. That first night, he told me he loved me and I said ti back, but we never confessed to each other that we were in love. We never confessed that we wanted each other, with every fiber of our beings, that all the passion within us was directed at one another. We were in love.

“You,” I held his hand. “I’d chose you, because I love you. I love you, Joey, more than I have for anyone I have ever known. I’d chose you because of all that you were - a gift to me, to our generation, a good father to a child you don’t even know, a good companion to someone you have no obligation to, a good leader to those who love you. I would choose you because it’s the only thing right, because there is no balance when I’m on my own and when you are, because he would want me to.”

I looked into his eyes, where the redness had cleared and all that remained was pure vigor, and I knew that he understood who ‘he’ was. Steez. Steez would’ve wanted us together, because it’s the best thing possible for both of us. It was meant to be, as cliche as that sounded.

Joey took me by my waist, pulled me in closer to him, and did what he should’ve done months ago - he kissed me. He closed his eyes and planted his lips against mine, our moths dancing together like it was what we were born to do. He kissed me, gently and meticulously, he kissed me.

And that’s all he could do, all we could do, for the rest of the night. For the rest of our lives.