My Ride and Die (A Boondocks Fanfic)

Intro

"This is some bull," I hear Miguel say from the passenger seat of my Matte Black Audi R8 Spyder with matching rims before tossing his phone in the backseat. We were running low on food for the month, so we were on our way to the grocery store to pick up a few things. It's not the smartest to leave the house with too much money on me, since the city of Houston, Texas. But it's not as if I go anywhere without Beast Boy. "These stories never go how I would like," Miguel whined.

While keeping my attention on the road, I ask, "what happened now? Who died?" Lately, Miguel has been reading a bunch of stories off of an app. I'm not much of the reader I used to be. After losing Lemon, I'm not much of anything anymore. However, I do my best to hold my head high. If not for myself, then for mi hermano. And even though it's been creeping up to eight years, today still feels as hard as yesterday. If only I had listened to Miguel the day Lemon found me...

"Nobody. That's kind of the problem. Things got retconned. It nearly has a different ending than what it did a year ago. Someone who died - pretty brutally, mind you - is just alive now. Some of the characters are different ages, which shouldn't matter. It makes one of the love story lines less questionable. But it does cause some questions about when some events actually took place. And to top it off, the author ended it on a cliffhanger! And it's been nearly a decade since they've updated the series."

"But if it's been that long, why are you so upset now?" I ask. Lemon used to be interested in fanfics and stuff. I wonder if she still reads them or if she's grown out of them. If she's alive, that is. It's been so long since she's been by my side, and I miss her as much as I did yesterday as I did when she disappeared. Part of me believes that Maya knows where she is. Cindy had disappeared the same day that Lemons did. It was months before we saw him again. At least, for me. Reezy had set me up in some condo for a while, laying low since we had a hand in escalating a drug war. Not that Miguel and I played big parts in the scheme. However, it was enough for them to threaten to cut my fingers off. They completely shattered my right ring finger, with it unable to bend fully.

Miguel smacks his lips, looking out the window before saying, "I keep coming back. Like, the changes aren't the worst things. Even with the changes, it seems as if the characters just aren't fortunate to have a happy ending. It's bull. And who knows if this is the end of their story, y'know? I just feel as if there's something I'm missing. And it's possible that the author accidentally deleted it or something."

"Or something," I chuckle. "I remember hearing something from someone that went like, 'the artist's work dies with its publication'. Of course, there will be things that they would want you to interpret from their work. But it can be more than that." I haven't done that much reading in my lifetime. I'm admiring art a lot more. Like, with each stroke of the brush, you could tell a different story. "Maybe the reason you feel strongly about the changes is that they hardly changed anything. At least, for the character you feel strongly about."

"I don't know how you brought this back to her."

I giggle, wondering what gave it away. "I didn't even mention her."

"It's been-"

"I know how long it's been, Miguel," I say, glancing at him. He was still staring out of the window. I noticed his reflection, and he had a dissatisfied expression on his face. "I know you didn't like her very much."

"I tend to be pissed at people who put my sister's life in danger, nearly cripples her, and then abandon the one she said she loved. She's dead, Maya. The sooner you accept that, as I've been advising you to, the sooner we can move on from the curse of the Freeman family.

The last thing I remember was helping Cindy pack, after catching her masturbating that morning. She also rambled nonsensically about spiraling to me, after telling me that Lemon left a note for me. The note that Lemon had written for me only said that she had things to take care of and that she loved me. Unfortunately, that was the last time that I heard from Lemon. It was also the last thing that I remember, since I went back to bed shortly after. However, I went from the bed of my lover's bed to one of a hospital. Even when Cindy eventually came out of hiding, she didn't have an explanation. And wherever Lemon disappeared to, if she's still alive, it seems as if she had brought Ed with her. Unless he's no longer with us as well.

I've had this conversation with Miguel time and time again, and it's getting to the point where I can't deny most of his arguing points. Lemon's brother is nearly the most powerful person in the world. And if he hasn't found her by now, then what are the chances that she's still out there?

"You could be right," I sigh. It's taken a while, but I've accepted the fact that the love of my life may not be amongst the living anymore. That being said, I keep having this feeling within me that keeps growing the more time passes. "But that would be the first," I say as I begin to laugh - Miguel not amused with my humor.

Previously on Ride And Die...

"Do you want me to kill you or something, Mr. Freeman?" Mr Wuncler grinned, returning his hand to his pockets. " Because I can and certainly will if you don't drop this."

"You couldn't even try," I chuckled, taking a drag out of my wood before tapping the tip to ash it. "Ever since I was littler, I made it a point to let niggas know that I have the upper hand every time I walked in the room, even when I didn't. I was the loudest in the room but always tried to apply action behind my words. Hadn't had anybody call my bluff in a while. Why should I scream if this is my theme park, y'know? Plus, you know where Lemon is."

"The hell's a Lemon? I'm gone, Mr. Freeman. I don't have to deal with this," he mutters to himself as he starts to walk away. He began walking away until something hit the dirt in front of him, causing him to stop in his tracks. He stood there for a few seconds before bending down to pick up whatever had fallen in front of him. He raised it to the sun to examine it better, revealing it to be a 50. BMG rifle bullet, before frantically looking around to try to make out where my shooter was.

"Yeah," I said under my breath, putting the blunt out on the bottom of my Red October's before standing up. "It doesn't have to be a room, mud."