As I said my goodbyes to my family, I got inside my car and headed home. Dinner was great, but just imagine how it felt having to answer questions like ‘Where was Teddy and why didn't he show up tonight?’ They could have bought me for a penny. That's just how low I felt sitting at the table with my family, enjoying my moment, and my man wasn't beside me. Ihadn't received even oneCongratulations, I'm sorry I couldn't make ittext. If I'll bust your windows out your car was a person, that would’ve been me right now. I didn't just feel stupid. I felt single as fuck, too, because what was more important than your girl's biggest night of her career?
Swiping away at the tears that threatened to fall, I pulled into my driveway and became even more pissed that Teddy's car wasn't there. Forcing myself out of the car, I walked inside and dropped my bag in the laundry room. I headed straight to the shower to wash the madness of tonight's game off. Yeah, we won, but all day, I was stressed the fuck out and worried about if I could really pull this off. I was a beast for sure, but it's that ounce of doubt that had me worried; the ounce that Teddy put in my head on how I wouldn't be where I was if it weren't for my father or my friends getting me the job, which was far from the truth. Fuck the fact that I knew my shit, no, that wasn’t even the case with Teddy.
Getting out of the shower, I dried off and then slipped on something comfortable. Remembering my phone was in my purse, I went to retrieve it to put it on the charger. As soon as I turned around to head back to my room, the locks on the front door turned. Crossing my arms, I stood there waiting on Teddy to walk through the door and spill out lies as to why he wasn't at the game. Instead of saying anything, he dropped his keys on the table and tried to walk by me like I wasn't standing there.
"Really, Ted?"
"What, man? I'on have time to argue. My head is pounding, and I just want to go to bed."
"Nah, I'm not even about to let you give me that excuse. Tonight, of all nights, you should have been there for me. I never ask you for shit, Teddy. Not a damn thing. I always go that extra mile for you, but when it comes to me, I can't even get you to skip. It's excuse after excuse with you, and I'm tired of it."
"Then leave!" he stepped in my face and roared.
"Nigga, this is my fucking house. You leave. The fuck! All I wanted to know is where were you tonight, and you jump to this shit. I'm tired, Teddy. I swear I am. You keep giving me thirty percent when I'm giving you seventy. I love the fuck out of you and thought it was the same for me, but your actions tell me otherwise. So, what is it?"
"My head hurts. That's what it is. We can talk about this shit in the morning." The smell of liquor came out of his pores like some funky-ass old man cologne.
"You're drunk? Seriously! Wow!" Throwing my hands up, I pushed past him and headed into the room. Slamming the bedroom door, I locked it behind me and dared his ass to knock on it. Those dumb-ass tears started again, but it wasn't tears of sadness this time. When I was too angry to tear some shit up, I cried, and right now, I really wanted to rip Teddy's head off. He chose to get fucked up instead of coming to the game? The fucking audacity of him.
"I'm sorry, Bri, and congratulations on your game. I love you," I heard from the other side of the door.
This is how he did every time. Teddy pissed me off to the highest power, then tried to smooth things over. Usually, it worked, but tonight, FUCK TEDDY!
BROOKLYN SMITH
Bobbing my head to the beat flowing through the speakers, I let the present dissipate as I stepped into another world.This was my element — music, vibrations, and melodies. Amid thunderous beats, I seemed to find the most peace.
My phone vibrated in my lap, but like the last three times it rang, I ignored that shit. It wasn't anyone I wanted to hear from right now, so the voicemail could catch it. All a nigga wanted to do was focus on getting this beat done so that I could go home and try to get some rest.
Lately, things had been stressful in my life. While I lived peacefully, I'd been losing rest over my parents. Something was off with them; I just couldn't put my finger on it. Growing up, I was used to Jaxon and Renee being more than my parents. They were my best friends. It sounded crazy, but my parents were just cool as fuck. Although they were cool, they never let me get out of line, and honestly, I never had a reason to rebel against them.
However, I'd noticed a shift in their behavior for the past two months. My parents were the poster couple of love and support. In all my years, I'd never seen them argue—not that they hadn't. They just never did it around my two younger brothers or me.
The shift in them had me worried. My parents had been married all my life and never had this type of heaviness been on me about them. When I felt I was tripping or paranoid, the next time I went around them, the same heaviness would be there. A part of me wanted to face whatever was going on with them head-on while another was terrified. My parents were equally my heart. If either of them had it in mind to walk away from the other, I wasn't sure if I could handle it.
I was strong and could hold plenty of shit on my shoulders, but watching my parents go through some shit had me weak. If I saw what was happening with them, then I knew my brothers, Bishop and Berkeley, were curious. Bishop was eleven, while Berkeley was thirteen. They weren't so caught up in school and video games that they didn't recognize something happening with our parents. However, just like I was afraid to face myparents, I was afraid to broach the subject with my brothers. They usually told me everything and called me for anything, but they'd had yet to bring any concerns my way, and truthfully, it gave me some relief. Not enough relief to help me sleep, though.
Sure, I shouldn't have been allowing my parents’ problems to weigh on me, but I was their eldest child, the one who saw their love grow and maintain through the twenty-six years I'd been on this earth. Them being apart would devastate me.
How else would I know how to love a woman if it wasn't for my father? Likewise, how else would I know how being a good man could allow your woman to be ten toes down for you through whatever? She'd appreciate, love, and respect you as a man, husband, and father. I learned that shit from them. They couldn't show me anything different. I hated that I felt this way. Thoughts of them consumed me.
Snatching my phone up as it vibrated again, I mugged it when Em's name scrolled across the screen. Sliding it to answer, I placed it on speaker and purposely turned the music back up, trying my best to let her ass know I was busy. Emily and I started fucking around after a concert Zoo, Sin, and I went to for this artist I produced for. She was bad as hell. Short, pretty as hell, and thick in all the right places. Even that fupa shit bitches tried to hide in them leggings was cute on her. The only thing I hated was her nagging. Her voice made the hair on my balls stand up. It was squeaky, and that shit was nettlesome as fuck.
"Brooklyn!" Her piercing voice bled through my ears like music through speakers, not the music that sounded good either. I'm talking 'bout that shit that you have to turn off immediately 'cause its trash.
"What's up, Em? I'm busy." Telling her that still wasn't gon' get her off my line any faster.
"Then, let me come by the studio to see you then. I just finished my shift, and I'm not ready to go home yet. Plus, I haven't seen you in a month of Sundays."
"The fuck that shit mean?"
"I haven't seen you in a month, Brooklyn," she corrected because I didn't understand that other shit.
"Say that shit then, and nah, you know I hate when people come up here while I'm working on shit. If you not in the booth, then I can't have you in here."
"Broooklyyynnn," she dragged. "I'll be quiet, I promise."
"Look, lil' baby, I said no. That shit fucks up my mental, and it's always the ones who say they gone sit quietly and not be in my way... that end up in my way. I'll fuck with you later, maybe in another month of Sundays."
