explicit content ➵ royce

Ch. I - 20 Year Old Virgin.

[ Jay. ]

Later, it reached eight in the evening. Tonight’s forecast is still light raining, my favorite type of weather. Currently, I’m chatting with Justice as she on her way down to this condominium. Oh, and you can describe tonight’s plan as being convenient. Instead of getting turnt at a nightclub because thanks to my intrusive weariness, we decided to crash here, converse, and eat ice cream. What a great way to socially relax, right?

Also, that blunt that I took a dose of earlier, did the job. But I’m not high because the blunt that I randomly chose weren’t wet enough. It just did the job like keep my mind off of that asshole Justin and him admonishing me that I’ve have to retrieve back to work in about thirteen hours… at my place. Now, it’s lesser and lesser a problem to me, but it still is. Sorry for the confusing paradox.

“Where are you now?” I curiously asked Justice over the phone, after having a laugh.

“Just now pulling up in the parking lot,” she marginally giggled.

“Did you bought ice cream that quick?” I question in somewhat amaze tone.

For an answer, she sighed. Maybe she forgot. “Daaaammmitt,” she trailed.

“And you forgot did you?” I chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

I continued on chuckling. “Girl, it’s okay. I’ll be down there in a second and we can go to the store together.”

A few little minutes later, we hung up and I got up from my couch, just to go in my bedroom to get dressed in a random pair of shoes. Probably a pair of Nike sandals since I’m wearing socks. Nothing wrong with socks and sandals for a combination, right?

After I slip on my sandals that was however outside the closet, I slip them on my feet and prepare to exit my condominium by powering off my plasma television and kitchen light, now leaving on the comfortable-illuminated lamp that’s remains in the living room.

[ Chresanto. ]

“Fifteen and a half fuckin’ minutes and the V8 not even in my damn sight yet?” I agitatedly questioned as Ray Ray and I are scrolling around the beverage aisle in Wal-Mart, with a cart that might have ten items or less.

“It’s somewhere in yo’ face man,” Ray Ray commented as his eyes is pasted on his phone. “Now hurry up. I don’t want people thinking that we’re on some gay shit ‘cuz I’m followin’ you around for some gross ass vegetable juice.”

“And this is why you look how the way you look,” I ridiculed, looking around the selves. “Scrawny ass.”

“Ha-ha,” he sarcastically and emotionlessly laughed.

I seriously don’t know why Wal-Mart here in Calabasas have to switch around their merchandises almost every month. I only prefer to buy packs of V8 Fusion at a nearest grocery store, but just my luck, there weren’t anymore in stock. I know it may sounds that I’m one of those people that kill themselves to stay healthy and fit, but I gotta keep that lifestyle for my young age.

I’m a college basketball player. I’m a UCLA junior and my skills in basketball is becoming strong; ever since I’ve became a rookie. Playing this sport to represent this college doesn’t mean that I have the interest on shifting to the NBA. And no, I’m not saying that I don’t have the concern because it’ll be one and a million chance on being a player for the famous sport association. Honestly, and other than being an employee at the Apple store, I’m not sure on what I want to be in life that’s ahead. I’m not planning on becoming too busy nor becoming much of a sloth. I had this problem ever since during those days on being labeled as a freshie in high school. Inspirational people like my mom, reliable friends, famous basketballs stars I’ve met multiple times, and even down to my teachers believed that by now, I will configure my future.