2 weeks later//Jermaine's room
"Jermaine? Can we talk?"
"Sure, baby."
"Uh, remember the our joyful and passionate night in bed?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I wanna do it again." She said a sultry voice, rubbing his meat.
"Nah, I'm not in the mood." He said moving her hand away from him.
"Why aren't you in the mood, daddy?" She said undressing herself.
"No. Whitney, put your clothes back on." He said kinda shouting.
"Why can't we just pleasure each other?" She shouted back.
"Because I'm not in the mood!"
"Am I unattractive to you?"
"I never said that."
"Yeah but your implying it!"
"Don't yell at me, little girl!"
"I am a grown ass woman! I can do what want!"
"You're gonna learn that you can't yell at me! Or else I will slap you, bitch!"
"Do it! I want you to!"
He just stood there, looking at her with his fist balled up.
"Exactly you can't hit me! But I don't know why you're so mad. Probably because I know my father loves me." She said walking closer to him. "Or probably because Michael fucked me better than you did." She said pointing a finger at him.
Jermaine was triggered so he punched her. She fell on the floor, holding her face.
"I told you not to talk to me like that!" He said pointing his finger in her face.
She quickly got up and ran out the room crying.
"Hey Whitney, I forgot to give you your pencil back." Michael said.
"Keep it." She said running away.
He shrugged.
Back in Jermaine's room
Jermaine was sitting on his bed with his head buried in his hands.
"Where did we go wrong?"
