A/N: Yo everyone! Surprise update! :D So basically, I'm gonna open with an "I'm sorry" for the last chapter. A lot of people told me that my chapter was sad, and even one person cried. And, once again, I'm sorry. Also, I'm sorry for this chapter as well, just in case this makes you sad, too. so... yeah. Also, I'm sorry for updating my other story Pursuit of Happiness twice before updating this story. I had some Writer's Block that got pretty shitty. But I'm here now! :DD So Enjoy! Read and Review, guys!

Chapter Ten: The Explosions

Emptiness.

He stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity. Sleep was out of the question. He hadn't gotten enough since he's moved back in his old bed. Two hours here, maybe three if he's really lucky. Never more than that. He continued to look at the ceiling.

Dark. Black. Emptiness.

He begged for sleep. The funeral was tomorrow and he needed to be alert to deal with everyone at once. He closed and tried to keep them closed. No dice. The ceiling was his only comfort.

This was shit. Nothing was ever fair for him. He always had to see the underlying struggles in life. Meanwhile, his loving girlfriend, had everything going for her. She never knew what a "struggle" was. Cindy too. He secretly envied Jazmine; he hated Cindy. Privileged bitch.

He got out of the bed. He needed to leave. He couldn't look at the ceiling any longer. It was making him sick. He slipped on a hoodie he found in the back of his closet and put on some of Riley's old sneakers.

"Huey?"

She can't know. He leaned over his side of the bed to kiss her on the forehead. "Go back to sleep," he instructed softly. She blinked at him a few times before closing her eyes again. He looked at her one more time before grabbing his phone and exiting his room.

The nighttime was peaceful. The moon was bright and shining while the air weakly blew. There wasn't a sound anywhere; everyone was busy sleeping. He flipped up his hood and turned to the right. He just wanted to run.

He didn't know where he was going. It was probably nowhere in particular. Maybe he was just running to tire himself out so he could sleep a little. If he ran far enough, he could escape everything.

And then he realized it: he's running to escape.

Escape the funeral, escape responsibility, escape… everything. He didn't want to be the main person, the one everybody depended on. He didn't sign up for this shit, and he definitely didn't want it. For once, he wanted to be the person who was just there, where people could let him relax and be a normal college kid.

But everything fell on his fucking shoulders. Everybody came to him for help. Like he had all the answers to the world's problems with him.

Fuck them. He was running away.

He ran past the hill, past Caesar's old apartment, past the high school, past Cindy's expensive ass neighborhood, past his problems. He ran until he was sure he couldn't run anymore without passing out. He leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Fuck, he hadn't run like that since he ran with Caesar during the soccer season back in high school.

The darkness turned into hazy Saturday morning dusk, making everything seem creepy and eerily still. How long did he run? He glanced over his shoulder to see a tall iron gate. His breathing stilled when he saw where he was.

The cemetery.

He didn't want to go in, but something compelled him. If this was a horror movie, this would be point where every nigga in the theater was yelling at him not to go inside because the killer was going to attack him almost immediately. Now he knew why white girls died so quickly in movies.

But this wasn't a movie, especially not a horror one. There was no secret killer, no zombies that would pop out of the ground and devour him. This was real life, as real as it gets.

He walked towards the back, knowing exactly where he was going. They've already set up chairs and had a tent up, just in case it snowed. The pile of dirt was on the other side of the six foot deep, square hole, away from all the people. In front of the hole, there was a simple marker, crooked to the right.

Freeman, 12/14/13

Today's date. Huey tried hard not to snap. His grandfather was dead and all he got was a shitty marker with today's date? It didn't even have his birthdate or when he died or anything! It was just… shit. Granted, it's not supposed to be permanent, but how the hell would people know who the fuck this was?

What if the marker blows over? Then Granddad would be another body in the ground. A body rotting inside of a coffin where nobody would know existed.

Huey sat down in the front row of the chairs. This was the story of Granddad's life. He was just another body in the ground with a shitty marker crooked to the side. His leg started to shake. No matter how far he ran, if didn't change facts. His grandfather was still dead. His funeral was still today. And by the end of the day, Robert Jebediah Freeman will be in that hole. He hated how harsh it sounded, but he needed to remind himself or else he'll keep running.

Riley needed him. Jazmine needed him. A lot of people needed him and the fact that he was trying to run made him weak. No, he wasn't his father. He was better than his sorry ass. He clenched his teeth together and headed back towards his house.

"Is he dead?"

"Caesar!"

"Fuck, sorry Riley. It slipped."

"Whatever."

"God, you're so insensitive."

"I said I'm sorry!"

"Jazz, can you wake him up? We gotta go."

"Huey?"

He groaned at turned over on the couch. He blinked and rubbed his eyes to better his vision. The first person he saw was Jazmine standing over him with a concerned look on her face. "Nice dress," he commented when he sat up.

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she sarcastically said. "Do you know what time it is? And where were you?"

He sat up and looked at the girl in front of him. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven," Caesar answered. Huey stretched and got up from the couch he was sleeping on. "How did you end up down here?" He didn't even know he ended up on the couch; he was just there.

"No idea."

He made his way up the stairs with Jazmine right on his tail. He could hear her heels clicking behind him. "Where did you go this morning?" she asked, sterner than the first time she asked the same question.

"Nowhere."

She raised an eyebrow as he grabbed his suit. "Okay," she continued skeptically. "If you didn't go anywhere, then how did you get on the couch instead of your bed?"

He shrugged in response.

Jazmine stopped him before he left the room. She looked up to him, trying to study him, but he avoided her gaze. "What is wrong with you?" she pleaded, her voice dripping with concern.

Everything.

He shook his head. "I'm fine," he feigned. She sighed and moved out of his way, knowing that his statement was a lie but he had to get dressed nevertheless. He knew that. They've known each other for too long to not when the other was lying.

He got his suit on quickly and glanced in the mirror. He closed his eyes; he didn't even want to look at himself. He got his wallet and keys and headed down the stairs.

The whole ride to the church he stayed quiet, as did Riley, the only other person inside the limousine with him. The funeral home insisted that only immediate family of the deceased ride in the limo, although Riley begged for Cindy to come with him. Huey didn't care either way.

"Why it gotta be us?" Riley inquired after ten minutes of comfortable silence. Huey glanced over at his brother. "This… funeral shit. I've been to way too many funerals. More than a regular person my age. I'm sick. I'm sick of doing this."

Huey was at a loss of words. Riley was right; they have lost too many people that were closest to them. "Some people get the short end of the stick."

"Yeah, but why us? The fuck we ever do?" Riley huffed.

"I don't fucking know, Riley!" Huey snapped back. "Maybe God, if he exists, hates us and just likes to see us suffer." It was harsh, but at least Riley stopped asking questions. He didn't know everything, goddamn.

The limo stopped suddenly and the boys both knew. They had to enter the funeral of their last family member. Riley gulped and was the first out of the car, followed by Huey. There was plenty of people already inside of the church, standing in the very front, probably to look at Granddad in the coffin.

He remember when he was younger, at his first funeral, Granddad and his mom made him go up to the coffin and pay his respects. He didn't know who the person was, some distant family member, but all he could remember was how still he was. The guy looked as if he would pop up and say "just kidding everyone!" and go on about his day.

And each person had that characteristic. That guy, his mom, Aunt Cookie. Every funeral, when Granddad told him to pay respects, the person looked peacefully asleep. It made him uncomfortable.

He avoided the long line to see the coffin, and sat down in his section. After the guests saw the body, they moved towards Huey, even though he didn't want them to. He got the generic condolences, like "I'm sorry for your loss" and "I'm praying for your family." He simply shook hands and nodded his head, getting an occasional hug if they were bold. Even Tom and Sarah showed up to shake his hand. He wondered if there was a camera crew outside to get a picture of him leaving the funeral of a citizen as if he was concerned with his grandfather. Tom wasn't slick; it was election season and he needed sympathy votes.

Riley finally joined him in the front pew, along with Cindy, Jazmine and Caesar. Jazmine sat down next to him and adjusted the tie around his neck. "You okay?" she asked, looking up at him. He nodded in response. She gave a small sympathetic smile before facing forward.

There had to be at least one hundred people in the small church. About one-third of the people Huey has never seen before. Almost everyone was crying. Riley and Cindy started around the time the sermon started, Jazmine was sniffling quietly to herself, and even Caesar had a few tears.

Huey stayed quiet.

Not because he wasn't sad, in fact, he was somber on the inside. It was because he wasn't allowed to. He wasn't allowed to show his feelings. Even if he wanted to cry, he couldn't because he was the tough one.

You're the man of the house, Huey. You can't act like a child anymore, you gotta grow up. Why? Because he was the oldest? He was seven, for fucks sake! He had his childhood ripped away from him, all because Riley didn't need to his older brother cry. Pure bullshit. Now he couldn't show his emotions to anyone. Not to Riley, not to Jazmine, not even to himself.

He needed to leave.

He cleared his throat and stood up. Everyone on the pew looked at him to see what he was doing. He avoided the gaze from practically everyone and calmly went down the aisle and out of the church doors, and into the lobby. He stood in front of the front doors, contemplating his escape. He wanted to run as far as he possibly could. Could he even run in a suit?

"Where are you going?"

He turned to see Jazmine standing near the church doors. "Just tell me the truth, okay? Quit giving me the runaround all the time. I want to help."

She looked beautiful in her dress. Only Jazmine could be in a simple black dress and could like the most beautiful woman in the world. Her hair, her makeup, her black pumps, all perfect. He grabbed her hand and led her to a coat closet. He yanked on the string of the lone light bulb on the ceiling.

"What are you—"

He pulled her close and smashed his lips onto hers. It was sloppy and unexpected, but he didn't care. All he cared about was her. He pushed her against the brick wall and hungrily kissed her, as if he hadn't seen her in years. He grabbed one of her legs and put up to his waist. He needed to run, but he wanted her first. His hand travelled up her leg and grabbed the waistband of her panties.

Suddenly, she pushed him away, making him stumble backwards. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she angrily said as she wiped her mouth. "First of all, I'm not having sex in a freaking church. Secondly, we're at funeral. Your grandfather's funeral. Jesus, Huey you've been acting so weird lately."

He leaned on the wall adjacent to the one Jazmine was on. "You don't understand."

"But I want to! If you just give me a chance…"

He stood and glared at her. "No, you won't understand until you've had the people that have raised you your whole life die," he spat out. "Until your dad leaves you forever, and until your mom, aunt, and granddad dies, you can't and won't understand me even if you try."

She looked down at her feet. "I just want you to open up to me…"

He could hear the organ playing muffled in the background. He walked towards the door, then turned to Jazmine. "Come on, I think the funeral's over," he said, extending his hand to her. He didn't want to tell her that he couldn't, but… he just couldn't.

He stared straight ahead and said nothing when he left the church. He stared straight ahead and said nothing when he was at the cemetery, having Riley bawling hysterically on his left, and Jazmine weeping on his right.

He stared straight ahead and said nothing as he sat down on the couch while everyone was at Granddad's house after the funeral. Very few people bothered him, noting the deeper scowl on his face. Only Jazmine came up to him, asking how did he feel for the seven millionth time in the last hour. If he had to say he was fine one more time, he was going to shoot himself.

This was probably the last time the house would look this full. He made the decision that he was going to pack everything up and sell the house. Neither he nor Riley had any use for it, considering both of them lived in Baltimore. He was going to tell Riley later, after he calmed down and everyone was gone.

He didn't have to go back to work for another week, although he still had classes Monday and Tuesday. That gave him Sunday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to separate the all stuff from what they wanted to keep to what they wanted to sell. Saturday they could have a garage sale and make some cash, and the house would be on sale by next Monday.

"What you thinking about?" Caesar asked, sitting down next to Huey. He offered Huey his unopened water bottle, but he declined.

He shook his head. "I don't know, I'm thinking about selling the house," he confided. Caesar took a sip of his water and pointed towards the floor. "Yeah, this. I mean, me and Riley go to school in the city and it's at least an hour drive back and forth, not including traffic." Caesar laughed to himself. "What?"

"Nobody gonna buy this house," he smirked. Huey raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how many bullet holes there are in the walls from you two? People gonna think murders happened here."

"I can't keep it," Huey reminded him.

Caesar patted him on the back. "Do what you gotta do, man," he said before leaving.

He had too many memories in this house. There was no way he could keep it. He's lived in this house for eight years, the longest out of all the places he called his house. Every section of this house reminded of Granddad. His chair, the kitchen, everything.

He moved through the people in the living room and made his way up the stairs. He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. It was the first time he'd been in Granddad's room since he died. And everything looked the same. His bed was unmade, the dresser drawers were open, and his laptop was still up. He walked around the room, making himself familiar. Then something on the nightstand caught his eye.

He sat down on the bed and grabbed the dark mocha book. He opened the book and the first thing he saw was a picture of Granddad and Aunt Cookie, but fifty years ago, when they were teenagers. They had to been at the beach back in Chicago with the way they were dressed.

He closed the book and looked at the cover. How come he's never seen this photo album before? He would've remembered an opening picture like that. He opened the album again and continued looking through the book. There was mostly pictures of Granddad when he was younger, going from his military days to his pictures with his grandmother. Huey had never met her; she died before he was born. But from the pictures so far, Granddad really loved her. Every picture that had both them Granddad was lovingly looking at his wife, without a care in the world.

And every picture was in chronological order, too. There was their wedding, then the pictures of their first house. Huey remembered going to the house every Sunday to watch the Chicago Bears play football. He really didn't care about the game, he just liked running around the small three bedroom house. It was better than running in the apartment.

Then the pictures of his mom.

They both loved her so much. Granddad had so many, almost too many pictures of his mom when she was a child. It was weird, because with all the pictures, it was like he was watching her grow up. Each picture was labeled the same way too: Victoria, followed by her age, and then the date. There were pictures of her as a baby, pictures when she went to school for the first time, and even a picture of her on Santa's lap.

Huey noticed that his mom looked a lot like him when she was younger. With the exception of the eye color, they could possibly be twins if you put the pictures side by side. Huey smirked at the thought. He was glad he only got his maroon eyes from his dad.

The more pictures there were of his mom, there were less pictures of his grandmother. He could tell she didn't like taking pictures when she got sick; there was only one picture of her when she was in the hospital. Then her pictures stopped altogether. And judging by the labels, his mom was seventeen when she died.

Huey was entranced with this photo album that he's never seen before. This must've been Granddad's personal book, using only the pictures he loved the most. Some of the pictures Huey has seen before, but most of them were new to him. There were even some pictures of him and Riley when they lived in Chicago.

But it wasn't fair.

Huey clenched his teeth together, holding back tears. Most of the people in this book were dead. Actually, almost everyone in this book was dead except for him and Riley. Why? Why him and Riley? What did they do in their past life to deserve such heartbreak at a young age?

He threw the book to the wall. Nobody experienced shit like this at twenty-one like he did. Nobody had to grow up fast like he did. Nobody had to make these kinds of decisions like he did. He just had to plan his grandfather's funeral.

And they had the nerve to have a party after.

Now he was pissed. He threw open the door and walked down the stairs. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. That was going to change real quick.

"What the fuck are you all doing?!" he yelled into the crowd. Everyone stopped in their tracks to look at the eldest Freeman. "My granddad is fucking dead, you're having a fucking party?"

"Oh shit," Caesar muttered under his breath.

"You know what? All you motherfuckers can leave my fucking house!" Huey shouted at the people. The group stared at him, wondering what to do. "What fucking part of 'leave' was incomprehensible? Go home or go someone else, just get the fuck out!"

The crowd started to leave quickly per Huey's request, while the other members of the group tried to do damage control. He sat down on the stairs, watching everyone who left. Good, now he could get some peace and quiet and figure what he was going to do with the house.

Jazmine walked up to the stairs, looking him straight in the eye. "Which one are you, drunk or high?" she asked sternly.

He shook his head. "Neither."

"Then what the actual fuck is wrong is you, Huey?!" she screamed at him. "You just yelled at people who just came from your grandfather's funeral for no fucking reason and you're telling me you're completely sober?!"

He glared at Jazmine standing in front of him. He had never seen her so mad. Then again, he'd never pushed her buttons like this before. "Look, you don't understand what I've been going through," he told her, calmer than she is with him.

"That's right! I don't!" she retorted. "And I'm not claiming that I do! But I've been trying to get you to talk to me for a week and you keep blowing me off."

"I'm fi—"

"If you say you're 'fine' one more time, I'm going to hit you as hard as I can," she said lowly. "Obviously you're not fine! Stop pushing me away! I'm not some girl you've just met! I've known you for years, Huey! Just fucking talk to me! You're my best friend, and I tell you everything, but why can't you tell me anything?"

Even though he wasn't meeting her gaze, he could tell she was near tears. He didn't know why he pushes her away; he was always alone and that's how he deals with his problems. Alone. "I don't want to talk."

"Don't you see that's the fucking problem? It's like you're not allowed to have emotions because you're Huey fucking Freeman, and having feelings is the worst thing in the goddamn world." She wiped her face and avoided making eye contact with him. "Why are you acting so weird lately?"

Caesar pulled Jazmine to the side away from Huey. "Jazz, just… cut him some slack, alright? He's been through a lot," he whispered to her.

"Well, what the fuck you want me to do, Jazmine?" Huey shot back, finally standing up. "I'm not good at any of that shit, and you know it, and Caesar knows it, and everybody in the fucking world knows it!"

Jazmine yanked her arm away from Caesar and glared at Huey. "Yeah, and it keeps building up and building up until you fucking explode on all of your innocent family and friends!" she shouted back.

"Those people…" he started, "Are not my family and friends. Those are Granddad's friends."

Jazmine half-laughed and shook her head. "You know, "those" people, actually care a fucking lot about you, contrary of what you think. And you have the shittiest attitude towards them. And you think you're all alone now, but keep up with this shit, everybody's gonna leave you, and then you will be alone!"

The room went quiet. Huey shifted his jaw and glared at Jazmine. "I… I didn't mean it like that," she tried to explain. He scoffed and turned around, going up to his room. "Huey, wait!"

He turned to face her. "Jazmine! I get it! I'm a pretty shitty person and the fact that I have friends is a goddamn wonder of the universe," he yelled. He continued on to his room.

"Huey, stop. Look, it came out way worse than I meant it to."

He scoffed. "How else was it supposed to come out, because it sounded self-explanatory."

"Look, I'm sorry!" she protested. She sat down on the bed, facing Huey. "I really didn't mean it like that. It was just a frustrating day and my emotions were high and I feel really bad about it."

Huey looked at Jazmine. He didn't blame her for her meltdown; he really blamed himself. He was the one who made her snap. He was the one who pushed all of her buttons. He was the one she was angry with. He realized he couldn't give her what she wanted emotionally. He'll always be closed off with everyone, especially her. And no one deserved it, especially Jazmine.

"Please say something."

He leaned against the wall and shrugged. "I need some time to think," he finally answered. She nodded, trying to understand the compromise. "Alone."

Jazmine glanced down at the floor, and then made eye contact with him again. "For how long?" she questioned. He shrugged again. She blinked her eyes, and exhaled deeply. "You're breaking up with me."

He didn't know how to respond to it. "You deserve better than me."

She sniffed and stood up, walking around the room to pick up her articles of clothing to pack her bag. He moved towards her, wanting to help her. He picked up one of the shirts that he gave her, but she snatched it away from him. "I don't need your fucking help!"

"Jazmine, I—"

"No!" she screamed at him, pushing him away from her. "You think this is for the better? I opened up to you, and you don't even care!" she said through her tears. "And to think I actually thought I…" She shook her head.

He raised an eyebrow. "You thought what?"

She looked at him, her emerald eyes vulnerable and glossy. "Leave me alone," she told him, avoiding his eyes. She got her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

This was for her. This was for her.

"Mom?" she whimpered into the phone. "Can you send a car to pick me up from Huey's house?" He tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away. "No, the one in Woodcrest. By our old house."

He didn't want to end on bad terms. They've been friends for eleven years, and he didn't want this to be last time they talked. "Don't be this way. We can stay friends," he offered.

"Fuck you," she muttered as she went down the stairs. She wanted nothing to do with Huey. "I don't want to be your friend."

"Wait, Jazmine where you going?" Cindy asked from the living room.

"Home," she answered, trying to not burst into tears again. "I just got dumped, so…"

Caesar and Riley turned to Huey, who stood on the stairs. He didn't know what to say to them. All this time, they were trying to get Jazmine and him together, and now he was just throwing it all away.

"What? You not fighting for him or nothing?"

Jazmine wiped her eyes. "You know, I wanted to. I really did," she started while she sat her bag down. "But then I realized… I've been trying to fight for Huey for the longest time. I'm done fighting. He either wants me or not. And apparently, he doesn't."

She took one last look at Huey before opening the front door and slamming it behind her. Everyone's eyes was on him, staring at him while he stared at the front door. She was gone.

"Great," Cindy remarked. "You let go of the only girl who would pull up with your shit." She shook her head and pushed through him going up the stairs. "Are you happy?"

He honestly didn't know.