leg·end
1. a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but unauthenticated.
2. an extremely famous or notorious person, especially in a particular field.
When you look at Marcel Young (Vince Staples) you see an average height, sli...
I seen my mama knock a nigga out when I was in the 3rd grade with one punch. I fear no man. -Vince Staples
Matika Los Angeles, CA 3 months later
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I looked over the balcony tapping the sides of the coffee mug containing tea. Marcel bought a condo in LA and I moved in with him, but I was mostly alone. Once he healed up he was back on the road doing shows. I'm proud, but it gets pretty lonely. Work and school keeps me preoccupied, but when you're used to spending everyday with someone you notice regardless. I decided to go back to college and get my bachelor's degree because my associates degree really didn't do much. It feels like everything happened so fast for him and even us.
Finally I just got tired of the wind blowing my hair all over the place going back inside. I put the mug in the sink then went to the bedroom to start my shower because I have to pick him up from the airport later. I stuck my hand into the shower testing the water. When the SZA that was playing stopped and my ringtone went off I went over to my phone picking it up from the sink counter. "Hello?" I said not looking to see who it was as I leaned up against the counter.
"I heard your nigga is coming back in town today. Tell him to watch his back," Izaiah's voice said in my ear. I gritted my teeth hanging up slamming my phone onto the counter. Once Zay found out Marcel lived he's been calling from different numbers making threats. I've been trying to deal with it myself by not telling Marcel, but it's getting too much now.
»»»»»
I pulled up to LAX parking my car on the side. I grabbed my phone dialing Marcel's number. As soon as he answered he said, "I see you," so I hung up. I got out of the car opening the trunk when I finally saw him walking up. I chuckled to myself shaking my head seeing him walking with a gangster lean and a big smile plastered on his face. Once he reached me he said, "Heyyyy!" making me laugh as he hugged and kissed me.
Once he put his bags in the trunk we got back in the car leaving. My stomach tied into knots trying to figure out how to say what I wanted to say. "You got makeup on?" He asked grabbing my attention away from the current traffic we were sitting in.
"Yeah," I said shrugging.
"Weird, but it looks pretty."
"Thank you," I said looking back at the highway. "I needa talk to you about something."
"What's up?"
"I think we should take a break," I said quickly in one breath.
"You're funny. Where are we going to eat? I'm hungry. I could use some Chik-Fil-A. You know they don't have those over in Europe? I was dying."
