Rose ignored all of Abel's calls all morning. His texts too. She wasn't in the mood.
She wanted to spend her Sunday as serene as possible. Rose ate some cereal as she looked through emails, did some laundry, and watched a shit ton of random netflix documentaries.
It was 2pm, a knock on the door startling her.
She opened it—she was relieved it was T.
"Fuck, I thought you were Abel."
"Nigga what the fuck happened last night? you were fucked up."
He shut the door as he made his way over to the couch, plopping himself on it.
Rose lit a cigarette, walking over.
She pulled a chair and sat close to the open balcony so the smell wouldn't bother him.
Rose summarized everything once again.
"...I'm over it though."
Tyler looked over.
"Nah, you're not."
She furrowed her brows.
"You smoke whenever something's bothering you."
"I'm just annoyed."
"And you haven't talked to him?"
"I will, soon."
"He's a fuck nigga. I told you."
She laughed.
Before he could speak, his phone rang.
He took it.
"Hey...I'm busy...yeah at a friend's...uh, probably not...aight, I'll see you later then?...bye."
He hung up.
"Des."
"What did she want?"
"She wanted me to go with her to her friend's birthday thing. Fuck I look like?"
Rose chuckled.
"That's cute. You should've gone."
"Fuck no. She's cool but nah,"
"She's cute. She's super into you."
"And clingy as fuck."
Rose laughed.
"I hate that shit," Rose took the cig into her lips.
"Sex is fire though. Might just keep her around for awhile."
Tyler eyed her, watching her smoke.
"I felt so fucked up after coming in outta nowhere yesterday night."
"I told you it's ok—,"
YOU ARE READING
Star: Tyler, The Creator
Teen Fiction[COMPLETED] Moving from Houston to LA to follow her dreams against her religious and strict parent's advice, Rose, a troubled aspiring singer songwriter is noticed by a familiar figure who decides to take her under his wing. Exploring her newfound...
