"I hurt on the daily. Be my peace, I'm tired of the pain."
*
If you want a love story about two happy people thuggin', this ain't that.
SHORT story based on Youngboy Never Broke Again's verse in: On Me
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"Look behind me, I see Fee and Carl while standing up in court."
"Bitch, I'll kill you!" Kentrell yelled in the dude's face, getting closer. Yvette pulled his hand and he pushed her behind him.
"What the fuck, brah!" She yelled as Kentrell's fist flew to the dude's face. He hit the dude in the jaw, and Dude hit him back in the nose. Kentrell started sending hard hits at a fast rate, making him eventually stumble back and fall.
Kentrell took advantage of this and dropped to the ground, putting all his power into his punches.
"Dude, it's not this de—"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! Get in the car!" He yelled at Yvette, startling her a little, but she stood her ground.
"Get off him, dummy!"
"Yvette, get. In. The fucking. Car." The cold look in his eyes is what shook her too the core. She backed away, heart beating fast. Kentrell looked back to the dude and snatched him up by the collar.
"You wanna speak reckless bout my family again? Huh?" Dude didn't answer due to his mouth hurting tremendously, so Kentrell bashed his head into the concrete.
"If you ever see me or my people 'round this bitch—don't look twice. Y'undastan' me?" He nodded, making Kentrell hit his head again as he got up. Kentrell was tempted to spit on him, but he just walked away.
He just got up and walked to his car, getting in without a word.
"I take it you like jail." Yvette mugged him.
"You think you funny? He was messing—"
"It wasn't that deep. You need to work on yourself if you're not gonna take the meds. Period." Yvette says truthfully. Of course he didn't like jail, he just couldn't help it.
He looked behind him, locking eyes with Carl and spotted Fee in the empty courtroom. He turned back around and looked at the judge who sat high. The chains that connected his wrists clattered and the sound echoed through the room.
"One count of attempted murder, Mr. Angeles, how does your client plead?" His hands sweated as if he didn't know what his lawyer was about to say.
"Mr. Gaulden pleads guilty." He picks his head up and looks at the judge.
"The defense and the DA have come to a bargain. The defendant is to serve conditional probation. If he violates the terms of his probation he will be sent to serve the years for his charges consecutively."
Consecutively.
He hated the feeling of being locked down by the state. He hated that he couldn't move wrong or his whole life would be over.
"I know." He finally said, agreeing with her.
"Nobody said it was gone be easy." Yvette told him.
"I know that."
"Then why are you making it harder for yourself?"
"Fuck type question is that? You think I wake the fuck up and think 'oh, lemme be extra fucking angry today. I think I'm ready to risk it all.'? This is me! This how I am!"
"Bitch, you know what I meant!" She rose up, getting just as loud as him. "I meant think before you fucking do! You got so many excuses, blame everything else for your problems! Rolling around and crying in your own shit ain't gone get you nowhere!"
"Take some responsibility for yourself! You have a mental illness, Kentrell, you are not a fucking empty vessel. You know from right and wrong. You just need to work harder on controlling your temper." He stayed quiet. Yvette didn't know if it was because he was about to blow up on her or that he thought she was right.
Kentrell didn't know either.
He just faced forward, his heart still racing from anger and hands shaking. He gripped the steering wheel to try to keep his hands steady. Yvette bit the inside of her lip, trying to find a different approach seeing that this one upset him.
"Do you want help?" He sucked his teeth.
"Don't need it." He mumbled. She tapped on her phone as he glanced over.
"Do you go to therapy?" She asked.
"If I feel like it."
"I think you should go consistently for a while." Yvette suggested cautiously.
"I think the fuck not."
"Why fucking not, dude?"
"Hate that bitch."
"Of course you do." She mumbled more to her self than anyone. "Let's go to my hotel room."
"Why?" He asked.
"I'm asking you to come back to my room and you're asking questions?" He laughed a little.
"Cause I got a feeling we ain't gone fuck when we get there. I don't feel like talking, Yvette."
"Just go back to my room, damn." She mugged him, something secretly up her sleeve. She was determined to get to the bottom of this problem since she couldn't solve it.
