Unlovable • NBATentacion

Chapter Five: Dares

Kentrell

Heart drumming he glances down at his phone from where he sits in his car outside in Michael's driveway. It's smaller of a house than he was expecting- so maybe like a party home or a fancy trap... or something? Maybe just a second home..?

Oh gosh- what if he... lives here? Shutter. Kentrell hasn't had a house this small since his fourth mixtape dropped. But hey, we all start somewhere. Nothing necessarily wrong with owning a house this small per say. If you work as a teacher or a mailman. It's just... as a fellow rapper he'd expect him to... to own a better primary property is all.

Is he.. is he being too judgmental? For a brief second his brows crinkle. No. No. Not he's not.

His phone dings.

JareJare 🐻 :
Nigga, u here yet?

A soft chuckle, his hair swings as his head shakes.

Coming in now. Early to see me? 😉

JareJare 🐻:
🤮 no. Doors unlocked just walk in

Kentrell clicks his tongue as his eyes roll. Whatever, he's here for Jahseh anyways. Jarrad can have that trench nigga wannabe.

It's awkward turning up to parties empty handed. He didn't always feel like his; back when he was poor it was basically a given that he'd be turning up to every event pretty much empty handed... save if he could steal a bottle of liquor or some dope from a drugged out fiend. Now that he has an easy thirty mill tied to his name the exact opposite is true- it's a given that he'd be turning up to every event with bags pretty much bursting at the seams. He's got weed, edibles, some pills from his stash, alcohol and some cheap fast food: just burgers and some buckets of chicken. Just in case, you know? It's the southern hospitality in him.

After tucking his phone in his pocket, he locks his vehicle as soon as he steps out and makes his way towards the door. Slowly his hand juts out, unsure of whether or not Jarrad was correct in stating the door would be open. Why on earth would- who leaves the door unlocked!? Especially with drugs in the house!?

"Who tha fuck-" Melly strolls up. "Oh! Aye! Y'all! Kentrell- nigga is that chicken I smell?" A drunken laugh as he takes the bags from Kentrell's hand and turns away with them. Quickly Kentrell kicks the door closed and follows him.

"Food? Finally! Uh nigga's starvin'!" Von dabs Kentrell before helping Jamell get everything unpacked on the counter.

"Where is..?"

"Livin' room." Jamell interrupts him, fishing into a bucket to snag a leg. "They finna play uh game or sum shit." He shrugs. "I'm bored of them niggas. Where's tha bitches at? I'm trying fuck!"

With a laugh, Kentrell nods. "Fa real."

Von grabs a bag of candy flavored edibles and a cheeseburgers. "I'm finna watch these niggas embarrass themselves. Kentrell, you comin'?" Cause after he got out of jail, he promised himself to never be in the same room as a horny nigga. Durk is bad enough. But he draws the line at Jamell- nigga has like seven different personalities... what if he starts having sex with them or something? Is that even possible? Fuck, he doesn't want to find out.

A game? With.. Jahseh? All those cheesy teen movies from the eighties and nineties that he used to be forced to watch with his older cousin flashed before his eyes. Seven minutes in Heaven... spin the bottle... truth or dare. "Hell yeah, slime. Just lemme grab sum shit ta get high first." Uhh.. he's not a big fan of drinking. Probably because of his mother's numerous boyfriends- the majority of whom always smelled like cheap beer. He snatches two bags of cotton candy edibles and stuffs three pills in his pocket just in case.