Petty Arguments

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(Michael)

I stretched my arms out, accidentally hitting someone in the process. I peeked through the slits of my eyes, seeing Chyna. I sighed and threw my legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing the bottle of Hennessey in the process. I took a long swing, then walked down the stairs. Nowadays, I needed a drink or three to get through my day, especially since Eric was on my ass still. I figured he'd leave me alone after I rejected him that day, but that only made it worse. I now had a deadline, that would be over Tuesday. Today was Friday. I grabbed the biggest cup I had in the cabinet, and poured the remaining of what was in the bottle, into the cup. I was so stressed, and nobody took the time out to see that.

I slammed my cup down on the table, and laid my head down shortly after, thinking. What was I going to do? I mean there wasn't much of an option presented whether Alexis and I were mad at one another or not, I'd never be held responsible for her death. Especially since this was my drama and not hers.

And besides the obvious, how much damage could helping his wack ass team cause anyway? I lifted my head off of the table enough so that I could chug the rest of the drink down without spilling it. I slid the cup away from me, and leaned over to pull the pre rolled blunt out of my right pocket. I lifted it to my lips, just as the pitter patter from feet, came closer.

I lit the blunt, just for it to be ripped out of my grasp. I glared up at Chyna, wondering what the fuck her problem was. "It is 10:21 in the morning Michael. What the fuck are you doing with this?" She questioned, waving the blunt around. I reached for it, but she pulled it out of my reach. My reflexes were a little slow from the alcohol I recently chugged down, so when she pushed me down, I plopped right into the chair. "Aye, bitch calm the hell down. And keep yo damn hands to yourself." I grabbed the cup that had the Henny in it, forgetting that it wasn't shit in there. I attempted to get up, but she pushed me back down again. She snatched the cup from me, and sniffed the rim of it. "Michael, what. the. fuck is wrong with you! I came down here to give you this," she attempted to through my phone at my head but I ducked. "and help yo alcoholic ass out, but I'm the bitch? You know what, ima get out of here because you're drunk and talking out the side of ya neck." her rant started off calm, but gradually increased to pissed off. I laughed at her, and grabbed my phone off the floor. She lucky my shit didn't crack, or I would have beat her ass. "Yeah you do that. Cause I'm talking out the side of my neck." I laughed again, and slapped her ass. Little did she know, I was sober as hell. It was gonna take more than one cup of Henny to get me drunk.

"You're an asshole Michael, and when you don't hear from me, don't say shit." The nerve of this hoe. I laughed again, okay maybe I was a little tipsy. "Alright, get the fuck out baby girl." I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, guiding her to the door. She pushed my arm off and punched me in the chest once, twice, three times. I roughly pushed her away from me, and into the wall.

All of my built up anger from this month flowed through my body, and her punching me in the jaw was the icing on the cake. I drew my arm back, and popped her in her mouth. My eyes grew wide once I realized what I'd done. I promised myself I'd never put my hands on a woman, and she drove me over the edge. "Fuck!" I yelled, punching the wall. I grabbed my head, trying to calm my thoughts down. Everything was swirling and I was getting more and more pissed. I picked Chynas dramatic ass off of the ground, ignoring her sobs, and opened the door. I dropped her on the welcome mat and closed the door. Something about her reeled the angry side of me out, maybe it was the fact that she wasn't her. And she never will be. I paced back and forth trying to regulate my breathing. I was on a hundred and all I wanted was a stiff drink. Maybe something was wrong with me.

(Alexis)

I glanced up at the kitchen clock, impatiently waiting for Michael to text me back. I needed my backpack, because if I came to class without my supplies again, professor would never let me live it down. Especially since we'd have important guest for the very first time today. I sighed, and grabbed my keys, and a green apple from the table. If I didn't screw up today, these guest could be a huge connect for our class. We were just so used to styling mannequins, and drawing clothing in sketchbooks, which some what justified my anxiety. I was no doubt excited though. I've never styled a human being outside of my sister and close friends before. I let out a breath and walked to the door. I locked the bottom lock, lazily then closed the front door. I had a long day ahead of me, starting with Michael. We were bound to argue about something, big or small. I don't even know how I was able to leave my backpack yesterday, knowing that I would need it today. That was a stupid move on my part, and although I had a key to his house, I hardly used it knowing that everyone needed their privacy. 'specially when they're dating a ex stripper.

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