When Kylo Johnson - an aspiring dancer and college students finally gets the opportunity of a lifetime to attend his dream school in the bustling city of New York City. After a night of unfortunate events he finds himself in the hands of the city's...
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"BAM!"
Semaj's voice was unnecessarily loud this morning as we walked towards the local café not too far off campus. His long fingers are pointed into a makeshift gun as he aims at our other roommate Tristian Howell. "Your whole fucking head will be off!"
"You just made that up," I say with a groan, my eyes nearly falling out of my head from how hard I rolled them at him. "That did not happen."
Currently, Semaj was trying to inform Tristian about what happened yesterday at work with the gun in the glove compartment of that one guy's car, but somehow he managed to create an entirely different plot from what originally happened. One where he grabbed the gun and threatened the man's life if he didn't leave him alone. Semaj kissed his teeth at me, finger gun stuffing into the pockets of his hoodie. "He wasn't there. He doesn't know."
Tristian raised a brow at him in response. "Even if I wasn't there I'm still smart enough to know that didn't happen. You can't even order food over the phone and you expect me to believe you pulled a gun out on someone you claimed to allegedly be a part of the mafia."
"Whatever . . ." Semaj shrugs, lips pursing together for a moment. "and speaking of lies, Tristian when are you gonna invite us to your girlfriend's party you keep pretending isn't happening?"
"And why the fuck would you do that?" Tristian's brows furrowed. There's no smile on his chiseled russett brown face. Only a slight pull of disgust to his two-toned lips as he stared at Semaj.
"I don't know maybe because we're roommates!" Semaj replied, his voice warm and loud just like his personality. "C'mon man, that'll be so fucked up if you don't."
"That's not how that works dumbass. Besides, enough people are coming already, and I don't have time to be babysitting you or you." The second you was for me obviously. Tristian's sharp face frowns at me which is a common sight with him. Despite being roommates for nearly two months now Tristian Howell isn't necessarily someone I would consider myself friends with. Hell, I wouldn't even say we're acquainted even though we live right across the hall from one another. I can't recall where his dislikes for me come from, but then again I think he dislikes anyone who isn't a part of his inner circle of close-knit rich kids friends. We just didn't click like Semaj and I did. Maybe it's because our backgrounds are so different. Both Semaj and I come from middle-class single parents households while Tristian is a product of new LA money. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's easy to see where the disconnect comes from.
I also dance with his girlfriend four times out of the week who just so happens to be the mayor's daughter so there's that whole thing. Neither of them seems too fond of me now that I think about it. They're a match made in hell I guess.
"Why do you wanna go so bad?"
"Because it's a party," Semaj bluntly said. "It's on a Friday, me and Kylo both are off the schedule, and we ain't got shit to do." He laughed. Tristian groans from beside him, lips smacking together at the words.
