What it do my niggas!

Ya'll KNOW I ain't got nothin' but love! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! I promise I'll try to update as soon as possible! My next update will be All This Love. I'ma try to finish that story before moving onto my other ones, but y'know how plans can be easily altered. :/

I'll never give up though. I'm determined to finish all of my stories, so I won't let the fans down :D

Shoutouts (of course) to my homies: misseylady, Schweetpea1870, Terri Shiro, MissG2020, Cruella de 'Chelle and shay x jaeg! Love ya'll!

NOW! This chapter ain't hella long either, but the later ones will be. Ya'll already know what it is!

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SHIT BUT THE OCs!

Read please! :D

CHAPTER 2: COMPLICATED

Damn, yo. They some freaks for real!

I told my brother to go'on head and be with his girl, but I ain't think niggas was gonna be this inconsiderate! I'm tryna get some sleep and I keep hearin' squeaks and screams. Shit! I came at the wrong time.

I was about to make a joke about that, but I'ma just leave that alone.

So yeah, they done now. I'm just trippin' off of how long they been doin' it. It's 9:30 in the morning yo. I got here around 5:00. Shit crazy. But now I can finally get some rest. It's everybody's day off and I know them niggas got to be worn out.

As I'm lying back on the loveseat in the living room, I can't help but think of her. Damn, what really happened back there? We were both pissed off and said some things we (hopefully) didn't mean. That don't mean we won't hurt though. She told me I was a worthless bastard, so I called her an insecure bitch. Yeah, we took it that far. I regret everything man, but she hurt my feelings too. Once again, I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but this is real. That's my woman, the one I love and the one that I plan to be with forever, but…shit ain't workin' out like I thought it would. It's just getting worse and worse.

Want to know how I ended up here, huh? Yeah, I knew you did. Aiight, now listen up. You only gonna be exposed to this information once because a nigga don't like repeating himself.

12:00 PM. Riley Freeman walks up to him and his girlfriend's (Stacia Jackson) front door. In his left hand, he is holding a black briefcase and in his right are his keys he uses to open the door with. As he walks inside, he does so slowly, trying to avoid disturbing his girl's sleep. Come to find out, once he walks in, she's sitting in the living room chair staring dead at him with a big ass attitude etched on her features.

All hell has officially broken loose.

Mentally, Riley rolls his eyes knowing what's to come: her constant accusations.

Before she even opens her mouth, he holds a hand up and sighs heavily.

"Baby, not tonight. I'm tired as hell and I just wanna get some rest in." He tries quickly shutting down the unnecessary drama to come, but finds it impossible to do. She just doesn't let up, does she?

"Yeah, whatever. So why are you arriving home so late?"

Riley groans loudly and turns to head up the stairs.

"Not this shit again, Stacia! Damn! I work late night shifts and you know this!"

He continues walking and is determined to keep going, up until he hears a loud crash. He stops automatically before looking ahead at the mess on the wall in front of him.

Was that…was that…a liquor bottle? An unopened liquor bottle that he happened to pay a lot of money for? Was that full liquor bottle aimed towards him?

Oh, she must've lost her damn mind.

He turns around to see his woman enraged. If she were a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of her ears, nose, and mouth. That's how heated she looked. What was her problem?

"Stacia, have you lost your fuckin' mind? You tryna kill a nigga?" He yells incredulously. He's about to say something else, but when she marches up to his face, he'll never admit to this, she's actually really intimidating.

"Riley," Her voice is so low and dangerous. "Do NOT lie to me!"

He scrunches his forehead together, trying to figure out just what the hell she is talking about.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

See?

She blows out through her nose and bites down hard on her bottom lip. If looks could kill, surely he'd be dead by now. Riley just continues to look back at her with confusion and frustration written all over his face.

They stare at each other like that for what seems like an eternity (really five minutes). It isn't until Stacia attempts to slap him when the silence is broken. Luckily, Riley catches her wrist and carefully places it back down. Stacia is trying to unleash another nigga out of him, and he is not trying to go there.

"Stacia TELL me what the problem is NOW!" He demands loudly.

She stares at him evilly again and snatches her wrist out of his hold. She crosses her arms and closes her eyes as if doing a mental woo-sah. Riley impatiently waits. He is tired and she is wasting his time with bullshit nonsense.

"Why haven't you answered your calls?" She finally speaks in an even tone, though it's clear that she is still highly pissed. Riley shakes his head and decides to even his tone as well.

"My phone died and I left the charger here." He explains truthfully. But Stacia shakes her head and laughs sarcastically.

"Oh for real?"

Riley rolls his eyes. "Yeah."

She nods and purses her lips together as if she is pondering.

"Okay, okay. But you got a car charger though, right?"

Aw shit. He didn't even think to charge his phone in the car. Had he done that, he might not have ran into this problem.

Oh wait, that's a lie. There's a 'problem' every night.

He sighs and blinks slowly, almost rolling his eyes again.

"I didn't think about th-"

"SO!" Her voice grows as she cuts him off. He sighs again. Here she go.

"You go to work from noon to night and you mean to tell me not ONCE did you think about charging your phone in the car? Not on the WAY to work? Not during your lunch break? Hell, not even on your way HOME?" She sarcastically laughs again and shakes her head, now placing her hands on her hips. "You are really something, you know that?"

"I'm something?" Riley responds with a pissed off smirk. This woman is doing too much. He still keeps his tone even though. "I'm not the one blowing up a nigga's phone, knowing damn well he's in a working environment."

"Oh, so your phone won't really charged, was it? You were just ignoring me? Is that it?"

Riley's eyes widen in irritation. Give it a rest already!

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"Because!" She yells. "You the one sittin' here complaining about me hitting you up, like I'm bothering you. So I take it that you're ignoring my calls!" Riley groans and turns around to head up the stairs. He does not have time for this.

"Whatever yo. I'm goin' to bed."

"No the hell you're not!"

"Yes the hell I am! Goodnight!"

He turns on his heel and proceeds to walk sluggishly up the stairs again. The next thing that comes out of that girl's mouth stops him in his tracks…again.

"You know, you're just like all these other niggas around here. Always chasin' after some random broad when you got a good woman at home. " She laughs dryly, causing him to squint hard as if she could see his face. She could care less about how he felt . "You, my dear, are nothing but a worthless bastard."

He spins around and glares at her. She remains unfazed, arms crossed and all.

"Excuse me?"

She places her hands on her hips and does the typical neck roll black girls were known for.

"You heard me, nigga." She replies in a soft, yet firm tone.

Riley didn't know where it came from, but he lets out a strange laugh…an almost scary one and shakes his head.

"I'd expect insecure bitches like you to say something like that."

Ohhh shit.

Then there's a loud gasp.

Damn. He did NOT mean to call her that at all. As soon as he said it, he was willing to take it all back. His eyes are wide, and so is his mouth, but there is nothing he could say to make the situation any better. Stacia's glare intensifies.

That's when the decision is made.

"Nigga, get the fuck out of my house." The tone is low and threatening. Not daring to say another word, Riley rushes up the stairs, hurriedly packs his things and trots down the steps. He notices she's still standing there in the same spot, but for the sake of his life, he doesn't even turn to look at her. He just heads out the door he had recently entered not too long ago.

And that was that. I wanted to apologize and tell her I didn't mean to say all that, but she wasn't trying to hear that shit. Next thing I know, I'm at the front door of my bro's crib at 5 something in the morning.

On the real though, I can't blame me not being able to sleep on my brother. I wouldn't be able to go to sleep if I tried my damndest. My thoughts keep drifting towards her. I keep trying to push her in the back of my mind but shit does not work.

"Shit." I groan. Hell, if I can't get no sleep around here, might as well make myself useful. I slowly get up off the couch like an old ass man and stretch out. This shit got a nigga all tense.

I march my sleepy ass into the kitchen and open the cabinet to the right of the fridge. I see me some pancakes and get a little hype. Back when we were living with Granddad, I was a beast at makin' pancakes. Huey was too. Shiiiit, if we won't good for nothing else, it was us whippin' up some pancakes in the kitchen.

But we are good for something else, just sayin'.

"And I say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah…fucking right, fucking right, alright!" I loudly recite the lyrics to my nigga Drake's song and do a little dance. I still hum the song (not on no gay shit though) as I pull out the pancake batter and close the cabinet. I kneel down and open the bottom cabinet for a medium sized frying pan.

That's done.

Now I close that and place the pan on the stove. I open the fridge for the rest of the ingredients and pull a spatula from the drying rack.

Five minutes later, I pour the finished batter into the pan and go to work! Since I'm feeling better, I open the fridge and pull out the bacon. Shit looks funny though.

And that's when I read the label: Turkey Bacon.

I should've known.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"This nigga." His ass always goin' overboard. I heard from the doctors that even turkey bacon won't good for you, so he buyin' this fake shit for nothing!

Anyways, like I said, I'm feeling better so I cook that too.

It isn't long before I hear someone yawning. I turn to see my brother looking at me funny, with his basketball shorts and his white tee. Nigga just wearing that because I'm here. And I greatly appreciate it. Nigga better not be runnin' around here in his night attire while I'm here. He better save that shit for his girl.

"What up, nigga." I say, ignoring his funny look. He walks in casually and opens the fridge, probably fishing for some orange juice. Even as a grown ass man this nigga's habits are the same.

"Hey." As I assumed, he pulls out the orange juice and grabs a plastic cup from the stack on the counter. "Sorry we kept you up. Jaz doesn't know how to keep it down."

I snicker as I pour some more of the pancake batter into the pan after the first batch is done.

"Ya'll some freaks. It's cool though. I probably needed to get my ass up to keep from thinking about my own problems."

Although, I can't keep from thinking about them because I just mentioned it!

I hear him sigh, but I don't turn to him. I don't feel like talking about it.

"Riley, you wanna talk about it?"

I had a feeling he did.

His voice is mixed with annoyance and concern. I know how he is with me. He gets frustrated because he wants this shit to be done and over with, as if I don't. He probably knows how to fix this problem, but because of the fact that I don't want anyone to help me, it pisses him off. He just gon' have to get over it!

"Naw."

He sighs again, but remains quiet for a while. Soon I feel him standing over me.

"Damn, nigga!"

"I'm just making sure you don't ruin the pancakes. I'm hungry and for the first time in life, lazy as hell. I was gonna starve until lunch or until Jaz woke up, but you're here now sooo…"

"Nigga hush. When have I ever fucked up pancakes? You know I'm a master at this shit."

Huey gives me a 'whatever' look and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Just sayin'."

He walks over to the counter and grabs another cup.

"Since you're being generous and making everyone breakfast, I guess I'll do the same. You want some orange juice?"

I shake my head.

"Nigga yo' lazy ass just gon' offer me orange juice?" I ask with a light smirk. "Not eggs, not cheese toast, not a damn sausage biscuit, but orange juice?"

He gives me another look. "You want it or not?"

I smirk. "Yeah nigga, thanks."

"Don't mention it." He tells me as he pours orange juice into my cup.

"Yeah, now you need to stop fuckin' so early in the morning. Your character 'bout gone. You never this lazy." I laugh as he shrugs with a smirk and passes the cup my way. He walks over to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair to sit down.

"Don't hate." He jokes. His dumbass got me weak.

I always get a kick out of my brother having a sex life. His name and the word sex used to not even fit. It wasn't until a few years ago when him and Jaz stopped bullshitting did that change. I remember waking up finding two afros on his pillow. I was weak as hell and they were trying so hard to shut me up. It wasn't until Huey threatened to tell Granddad about my 'fundraiser' business back when I was a kid that I stopped laughing altogether. Shiiiiittt, Granddad holds grudges and he will kill my ass, grown and all, because of some shit that happened way in the past.

"Shit, ya'll niggas need to hurry up and get married. Ya'll been living together for about two years now, and known each other since the fifth grade." I say it jokingly, but at the same time seriously. They been together for a hell of a long time, and they ain't have no real problems. They meant to be married, and I ain't no sensitive, gay ass nigga. Just speaking the real.

He sighs and leans back on the fridge. "Honestly, I've been thinking about it."

At the moment, I was drinking my orange juice, but now it's splattered all on the stove top.

"Whaaaatt?" I look to him with wide eyes and a wide ass grin. "Did I hear you correctly? Huey Freeman trying to propose?"

"Be quiet." He warns me as he takes note of me being loud. I apologize quickly and get back to the subject. "And wipe that up off the stove."

"Aiight nigga, damn." I respond as I reach for a rag and wipe it up.

"But yeah. I'm saving up for a ring right now."

I throw the rag into the sink and pour more pancake batter in the pan.

"Damn. You decide where to propose at?"

He looks to the ceiling in thought.

"I'm still tryna figure that one out. I mean, most proposals are corny, and I'm not tryna have that problem."

"Haha, true." I gotta agree. Some niggas be lame as hell with it.

"Yeah, but I'll figure it out."

I nod as I place some finished pancakes on a plate and check on the bacon. "Well shit, I'm proud of ya'll. Even though I don't act like it sometimes. Ya'll got that shit Granddad and Grandma used to have."

He smirks and nods. "Thanks man. I don't know if we got it like them though."

"Shiiieett." I respond to his bullshit remark. Him and Jazzy good for life. The fuck he talkin'?

I shake my head at my brother's reply. I'm pretty sure Jaz and I will be together 'til we die, but you can't compare our relationship to what my grandparents had. What they had was rare. Jaz and I don't have any major problems, but we do argue from time to time about stupid things. My grandparents had that type of love where they already knew what each other were thinking, that way they would avoid having to piss each other off. They were definitely soul mates. They weren't that old couple down the street arguing over whether Soul Plane 3: Niggas in Africa was the best movie of all time or not (and it's not, by the way).

I don't know man. I can't explain it, but their love was something that I have never seen before. It was so strong, ridiculously strong.

I was only eight when Grandma Dorothy passed, but I could never forget how loving that woman was. I was seven year old when she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. It could've probably been treated had she known about it a year before. Six months later, after my birthday and all, she lost her battle with the disease. When she passed…man, I thought Granddad was gonna have a heart attack. I'd never been so terrified in my whole life. Aunt Cookie had to rush him to the hospital. I couldn't say anything. I was too hurt at the moment. My grandmother died and my granddad was put in the hospital. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that he wanted to take care of me and Riley. Although through the years we got on his last nerve, we knew he wouldn't have it any other way. As of now, he still begs us to come over every Sunday for dinner (reenactment of Soul Food).

But to me, there's no way me and Jaz's relationship compares to theirs.

"I'm almost done cookin' so you can call Jaz down if you want." He says as he's rinsing out the hot pan in cold water.

"Naw, she doesn't like breakfast food."

He zips his head in my direction. "What?"

I nod knowingly. "Yep."

He shakes his head as he drops the pan in the sink and flips the bacon. "Crazy."

"That's what I told her." He laughs.

"Aw damn, you got away with callin' a black woman crazy?"

I shrug.

"She's half and half so she let it slide." I joke. He laughs again and shakes his head.

"Shit. Nigga you a good one. That shit won't fly with Stacia. Her ass will bite my head off." He smirks, but then obtains a distant look.

I sigh.

"Riley,"

"Naw, I'm good nigga. Don't press the issue."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not pressing anything, Riley. I just want to know what's up." I tell him, cutting the bullshit. "What made you come over here…again?"

He silently drains the bacon and puts it on the same plate the pancakes are on before rinsing out the pan.

"C'mon Riley. You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?" I assure him. I hate it when he unnecessarily holds out on me, as if I'd turn on him if I found out or something. He knows I'd never do that, so him blocking me out is really starting to piss me off.

He sighs and turns around to face me. It looks like he's about to have a mental breakdown, but he manages to pull himself together.

"She kicked me out…for good this time." He announces, sounding defeated. His shoulders slump the expression on his face is of pure confusion, guilt and sadness. What the hell happened?

"Man…what did she do?" I ask sympathetically. I don't think I've ever seen my brother look this pathetic.

He takes a strip of bacon, crunches on it, and shakes his head.

"Man, I don't wanna get into that shit. Just know that we said things we won't supposed to say, and shit got real since then."

Whatever that means. I don't wanna pressure him into telling me, but I'll find out eventually.

"Well if you don't wanna talk about it now, we don't have to but we gon' talk about it later."

He rolls his eyes and mutters a "whatever".

Whatever my ass. I'm serious.

As I wake up, I find myself alone. Alone in a bed that's supposed to occupy two bodies. I reach over to feel the empty space and pretty soon I feel tears drowning my face. Damn I miss him. Why did it have to go that far? If I hadn't called him a worthless bastard, he'd still be here. I didn't want to call him that, because I know he's not, but he just pissed me off so badly. Why on earth does he insist on lying to me time and time again? I know there are plenty of gorgeous women parading around in tight skirts at his job. Men are liable to be drawn to those sluts, and Riley is no exception. I'm not saying that he can't be faithful or loyal, but it's pretty hard to believe he isn't attracted to anyone else but me.

After a few minutes of feeling like shit, I hop out of bed and shower up. About forty-five minutes later, I head out to see Cindy. I want to see Jaz, but I already know he'd be there. I couldn't deal with seeing him yet.

"Hey girl!" Cindy greets as she hugs me. I try my best to hide the pain and smile brightly at her. Knowing her though, she could see right through me, but I guess she's choosing to ignore it for now.

"What's up!" I reply before stepping into her home.

"Yo, I'm hype about this weekend!" She gushes, ushering me into the entertainment room. I'm still amazed at how spacious her home is. I look at her, confused about what she's talking about.

"Why?"

She gives me a duh look, and for a while I'm confused…then it hit me.

"MIGUEL!" I yell as it all came back to me. Damn, I've been son consumed in my own thoughts I forgot my favorite artist was coming. I'm slippin'.

"Uh, yeah?" She made me sound stupid. "Girl, what's wrong with you? You been talkin' about this all week last week."

I giggle a little and shake my head. "Yeah, I know. Just a lot's been on my mind, that's all."

"So much that you forgot Miguel was comin'?"

I shrug. "Guess so."

She stares me down as I take a seat on one of the plush chairs. I feel her eyes on me and shift uncomfortably.

"Okay, Stace, what's really going on? You seem different." She finally points out, standing up against the wall across from me.

I stare back at her for a while. I know she knows about how rocky me and Riley's relationship has become, but I get so sick of talking about it. I just give her the typical,

"Oh, you know…"

And she gets it.

She rolls her eyes and groans loudly, shaking her head. I don't blame her. I'd get sick of hearing about my friends' relationship problems all the time too.

"Ya'll niggas need to get it together for real. I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I miss ya'll bein' disgustingly in love." She half-jokes, trying to get me to laugh. I just smirk and say nothing. She's right though, which is probably why I have nothing to really say.

"Ya'll was just so much happier then. I hate seein' my niggas miserable. That shit's a no-no in my book. Shit, go to a couple's therapy or somethin'." She suggests as she shakes her head again. Although I heard the amusement in her last statement, I knew she was serious. And I just may consider it.

Y'know, whenever I get the chance to see him again.

"Anyways," She adds, changing the subject to brighten the dim mood. She's holding two DVDs in her hands. "Scarface or Love and Basketball?"

I give hear a deadpan look at her movie choices (Riley's favorite movies). Really?

"Orrrr…." She grins as she turns around and picks up another movie from her TV stand. "Poetic Justice?"

I point at her approvingly and smile. "My nigga."

She snickers and pops it in.

"We need some popcorn, though."

"Hush up, nigga!" She shushes me, making me roll my eyes.

While the movie's playing, I try my hardest to push any thoughts of Riley to the back of my head, but find it impossible. Everything about this movie reminds me of him. Tupac's character really reminds me of Riley. Even though they aren't exactly the same, they're alike in some ways. Like the way Tupac cares for his family, the way he cares for the girl he really likes, and the stupidly funny things he does to impress the girl he likes. Without being a cornball, he's kind of sweet, and Riley's the exact same way.

Or was.

"I'll be back, girl. I gotta go to the bathroom." I announce. She just nods before pausing the movie for me.

I practically sprint to the upstairs bathroom to get away from Cindy as quick as possible. As soon as I close the door behind me, I start sobbing uncontrollably. I don't want her hearing me, because then she'd ask me what was wrong and then I'd be crying on her shoulder like a big ass baby. I know I can lean on my friends for anything, but I've got to handle this on my own.

I can't lie, I miss him so much. I just don't want to face him right now because I want to avoid confrontation. It gets really tiring. I just want to relax.

But I have a feeling that I'll cry all over again.

After a good two to three minutes of endless tears, I wipe my face, and stay in the bathroom until my face is cleared up and back to its normal color. I don't want her suspecting a thing.

I walk back downstairs to find Cindy pouring popcorn in a bowl. I squeal to purposely annoy her.

"Aww, Cindy! You listened!"

She shushes me loudly, holding a finger to her lips. "Hush! Girl, you was upstairs for a pretty long time. Takin' a dump?"

I roll my eyes at her inappropriate question. But she is Cindy after all.

"Think whatever you want. I'm back to watch the movie."

She shakes her head and resumes the movie.

"Mm hmm. All I know is my house better be smellin' like flowers."

I laugh and shake my head. What am I gonna do without that girl.

Idk what you're gonna do without her Stacia. I just don't know, but you NEED to get back with Riles and quit trippin'!

Okay, so I'ma clear this up for the public. Their fight was not the reason Riley was kicked out. Stacia was fed up with his "so-called" lies, and the fact that he called her a bitch was just the breaking point. It wasn't just because he called her a bitch. But yeah...either way, they need help.

Review plz! xD Thanks in advance!