In Search Of - A Childish Gambino story

Chapter 6 part one: Paranoia

WARNING: It goes the fuck down.

Enjoy.

Donald

I’ve been riding around with my blunt on my lips
With the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip..

It was quiet as fuck in the car. A little eerily so. I had stopped my furious side glances at Fam because we were nearing the spot we were sposed to pick up Steve. Luckily he had just happened to spend the night at some chick’s house. Another one of his potential baby mamas. I really hope he’s wrapping that shit up.

Fam suddenly cleared his throat and I saw his hand reach to turn the radio down. “Don’t touch my shit, man,” I spat, my eyes leveling with his. N.E.R.D. was about the only thing keeping me cool right about now.

"I’m sorry bro," he met my gaze evenly, his eyes pleading, "I just wanted to talk. Now that it doesn’t seem like you’re as quick to chew me out." I winced. I’ve never liked being mad at Fam. He’s closer to me than my own blood, Steve. Which is crazy because I’ve only known him for a few years now. But he came out of the blue right on time.

"Alright, let’s get some food real quick," I muttered, sighing. "The hot and ready sign is on down the street," Fam grinned at me, nudging me in the side. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling back, shaking my head, but I pulled into the Krispy Kreme regardless.

We sat across from each other in a secluded back corner booth. It was early in the evening so the joint was gracefully empty. Just a few bored looking teens up at the front counter, wiping everything with towels rather robotically.

"It’s like they’re drones or something," Fam said, following my gaze.

"It’s always weirded me out that you could read my mind, gonna be honest," I smirked at him over the rim of my coffee cup. "But seriously, just…explain everything again. I wasn’t fully listening the first few times you attempted."

"Due to the fact that you wanted to pop a cap in my head, nigga?"
I raised my eyebrows at him, “still tempted to honestly.”
He sighed and rested his arms against the table, nudging his donut around its napkin.

"You know the nigga I usually get my shit from to sell?" He finally let out, looking up at me. I nodded silently in response. "Apparently a few too many people had it out for him…niggas pulled a coup de taught-"

"Coup de tat," I corrected him.

"Yeah whatever the fuck. Fucking blew that nigga’s brains in. So his old right hand man is in charge now. And he’s not nearly as worried about us, you know?" Fam let out a long sigh, burying his face in his hands. "Well, this nigga has never really liked me in the first damn place, son. He was always jealous that I was in better with the main nigga. Like fuck wrong with you? I ain’t have some gay little crush on him or sumn." His voice trailed off. I stared expectantly across the table.

"Anyways, he decides he wants to test my loyalty to HIM. Like I owe that nigga shit? Ain’t no one ask his dumbass to take over. But he decides to give me more shit to move than usual. You know usually it’s just kush, bro. But this nigga gave me that and a whole key. Like the fuck I look like?I mean. I ain’t doubt myself. I know I could sell you your own shoes if I had to,” he chuckled.

I knew he wasn’t lying. He bet me my own damn ones once when I was drunk and we were playing pool or something. That’s why I don’t fuck with that nigga shit anymore.

"But see the problem is," he continued, interrupting my nostalgic moment, "I was tryna pass that key on to someone else. Highest bidder type of shit. And I had a dude ready to take the whole thing. But I ain’t know this nigga like that. I should’ve known better." His hands clenched and un clenched on the table top. "He fucking set me up. Showed up with only one of my niggas. He had five. They outnumbered us in guns too. I just handed that shit over." he rubbed the back of his head slowly, trying to gauge my reaction. I finished swallowing my last sip of coffee.