I Won't Give Up

Chapter Twenty Seven: The Video Tape

Four Days Later – Thursday Night

 

Abel

 

Me and my niggas are in a gas station grabbing snacks. Lamar and Hyghly were grabbing candy and chips with energy drinks. I was grabbing a swisher from the Arabian guy in the cashier window. I looked over on a magazine stand and seen “The Weeknd get’s played” I immediately picked that shit up. What the fuck? I purchased the magazine and on the way back to our hotel I was burning with anxiety to read it.

As I got in my hotel room, I pulled it from my duffle bag and sat on the bed looking at it. I turned to the page where the full article was shown. I see pictures of this bitch Diggy leaving my loft, in the mother fucking morning??? I began reading

“Diggy Simmons spotted leaving Nickiah Jonas’ loft while The Weeknd finishes up his tour in the United States. Simmons was spotted leaving her home around 7 am. When questioned about his visit, he says they were reading the bible together but kept smiling and laughing. He feels that he and Nicki are only friends and her husband, R&B sensation, The Weeknd, just needs to lighten up a little. “…he shouldn’t be so sensitive” is what Simmons said geared towards The Weeknd as he left the loft. Tweet us and let us know what you think. Is there trouble in paradise for the double force couple? Is Nicki lonely when The Weeknd leaves? Does she truly miss her old childhood boyfriend, Diggy Simmons? Or is she playing the both of them? Let us know what’s up.”

 

Oh hell no! I can’t explain my fucking rage, my strength turned from human to primate. The devil rose up inside of me, I’m fucking pissed. What the fuck?? This nigga in my house when I’m gone?? I grabbed the magazine and ripped it into pieces before throwing its destroyed remains on the floor. I feel like destroying everything, I feel like killing him and I got a couple mother fuckin’ words for her! What the fuck is this supposed to mean???? I shouldn’t be so sensitive???? This nigga must not know who he’s fucking with. I don’t play, I’m ready to kill.

I began packing my shit up, fuck this, I’m cutting my tour short, I can always come back out to perform but I need this one night to get my shit straight back home. I turned the radio on to drown out my angry noises. I hear this nigga’s voice rapping.

 

“…when I was in ya home don’t get mad that she didn’t pick up the phone. You nothin’ but a Toronto kid actin’ like a killa, let me just remind you that I was the first nigga with her. Yeah, I see you on your bummy swag, you must be messed up, can you comedown a tad? Makin’ this tape cuz you knew I would, but don’t hate on my swag cuz you make the less fortunate look good. Takin’ you to school cuz you need to be taught, isn’t it funny how I know about everything in ya loft?”

 

He fucked up now, lol really? My “bummy swag” okay mother fucker, you wanna play games with me, this shit ain’t over.

I thought about it, this is fucking Diggy, if I get on the track to talk shit it might seriously end his career, why the fuck am I going to use my talent to fuck with him? I’d rather use my fists.

I made some calls and tweeted to my fans: I deeply apologize for canceling my tour early, I promise I’ll make it up to you all…

Then I tweeted: why use my talent to fuck with a preacher’s kid?