On Sight • NBAVONDURK

13: Of Manipulations

Von

With a pout, he sits his phone back down on the coffee table and sinks into the couch. 

"What's ta yo ass, lil folks?" 

That had just gotten in from playing a few rounds of ball; with Von winning two games in a row and then feeling bad for his friend and therefore letting him win the last game. After all, not James' fault he's so damn short.

Von looks up, the pout slowly sliding off his face. He takes a deep breath. "Nothang, 'm straight."

James chuckles, taking his seat next to his friend. "You not and you definitely not. So, what's ta you? Ain't nobody fuckin' wit you is they?" Grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt, he peels it up to reveal his flat stomach and the gun sticking out of his gym shorts. Which, in case you're wondering, was actually tucked into his underwear. 

Von arches his brow and laughs, shaking his head. "You can take a nigga outta tha O but not tha O outta a nigga. I see you."

"Folks-" James says using a stricter voice this time.

Von just smiles and shrugs his shoulders. "Melly won't text me back is all." Halfway mumbling his words because as he says them he cringes on the inside instantly feeling like a female. Well, when he used to date Asian he still had this same problem. But then again, out of the two of them, he is the more feminine looking. If it wasn't for all those botched surgeries her ass would have about as many curves as Plank from Ed, Edd, and Eddy. 

James nods his head slowly. He has never liked Jamell. He doesn't like 'Melly'. He thinks 'Marcus' is weird as hell and he damn sure doesn't like 'Melvin'. And he doesn't buy this whole 'multiple personalities' thing or the claim there are 'three other motherfuckers' living inside his head. Hell, he thinks all Jamell is is a clout chaser just like Tyquian. But unlike Tyquian, Jamell actually has talent and skill. Von is just too nice and friendly, all the fucking clout chasers run to his ass first. To make matters worse, he never fucking takes him up on any kind of relationship advice he tries to offer. Hell, he was so madly in love with that opp bitch that he had to go out there and take care of that hoe himself. Course, Von has no idea it was him who killed his beloved. With any luck, he never will. 

"And? This nigga is nothang but uh goofy, on King David, foe." He shakes his head. "Ion be seein' what you see in his ugly ass no way. He look like a stand in on that show.. Bob's Burger." Flicking his tongue over his upper teeth, grinning by the end of his action. "You can fasho do betta." He concludes with a nod. Better not meaning him, of course. That's like his biggest fear whenever it comes time to give Von relationship advice. That boy can become so clingy so damn fast. Last thing he needs is for his best friend to fall in love with him. "Fine someone ta treat you betta. But 'm straight, iight? Okay?"

Von scoffs, "Yes James!" He snaps, "I know yo short ass is straight. Eve if you weren't I don't want sum nigga who look like he belongs in Honey, I Shrunk Tha Kids." He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms before jumping up, snatching his phone off the table, and storming out of the room.

James blinks, watching his best friend before he simply goes to shaking his head. "Yeah, he took that well." Mumbling as he reaches over for the remote. "And if his bitch ass don't answer or make you mad... Ian goin' on no drills tonight! Sa don't even fuckin' ask, whole time!" He shouts rigth before a door way off in the distance slams shut. 

James sighs, rolling his eyes. "All this effort and drama fa uh goofy. Couldn't be me. But if he keep fuckin' witcho ass he gon he down uh fuckin' personality. 'll shoot that bitch out 'im." He warns with a mean sounding grumble and a certain twinkle in his eyes that was the last thing many of his opps saw.