Sage was exhausted.
He'd been awakened only an hour after he'd settled in after a night with Darcy. Ken reminded him that there was a trip to be taken.
The day began with hours worth of being intimidated and interrogated. After all, he was an unfamiliar face, and faces such as those made people nervous. There had to be a way to ensure he was built for whatever Ken had signed him up for.
So while Sage was tried by fire, Ken negotiated terms with his boss, who was more than happy that Ken had finally come around to filling the slot he had open for him. After all, Ken was one of the best worker bees within the underground hive. It was time to see what he was really made of, and soon enough, his effectiveness and loyalty would be tested. Starting today.
As Ken explained his desire for more money, he was met with only one reminder.
"If you wanna make big money, you gotta do big jobs, and those aren't as easy to step away from. So, if that's really what'chu want, just know that you ain't done until I say you are."
It was a fact Ken already knew, and why he was so hesitant to ask for anything in the first place. But this was the only resource he had on such short notice. So, he agreed.
His trial run began.
Sage was spit out of the wrath of an early morning hazing. Ken was given a pair of keys and instructions, and the two set off for a day and a half's worth of driving.
Very casual driving as they rolled with drugs laced throughout the entire car— in speakers, under seats, in doors, under floors, everywhere.
"Just be cool," Ken shrugged.
Sage followed suit, attempting to treat this as any other road trip, where he would relax and doze off.
But he couldn't sleep. Not when they were ridin' dirty.
So he was up.
And he and Ken talked. It'd been a minute since they had really done so.
They reminisced about Chico, about school days. About flunking out and getting rejected from college, how they ran this city's streets that whole summer after, at least they thought they did.
It was the easiest the two had felt in a long time. The weight of loss and the tension that laced their business relationship had put a strain on their friendship.
This was just the thing they needed to get back to the basics of their so-called BAM Fam.
They made it to their destination, dropping off their car and having a meal.
They picked up another car, which awaited them in an alleyway with keys hidden in the grille.
And after Ken did extra checks to make sure this was the right car— filled with money rather than drugs— the two were off, back to Mason.
Sage was up again, thinking of Darcy as the sun set.
"You ever think about... where we'll all be, four or five years from now?" he asked.
"Rich, hopefully."
"Besides that, man," Sage kissed his teeth.
"What else is there to think about?"
"Bruh, come on. Be serious. You don't think about havin' a family or somethin'? Gettin' married?"
"Is this your proposal to me?" Ken glimpsed at him with a chuckle.
"Har-har," Sage deadpanned before gazing out of his window again. "Forget I even said anything."
Ken looked over again, rolling his eyes with reluctance as he watched the road ahead wind. "Of course I think about that shit, man. Who doesn't?"
"What do you see?"
Ken scoffed. "I don't know, man. Any plans I had for the next five years got fucked when Chico got killed. Fuck makin' life plans."
"What were the plans?" Sage sat up in his seat a little.
"Me and Chico, we were gonna go into business together. When the robbin' and the drug shit got old, we'd open a car wash or somethin'. I don't know."
Sage smiled slightly at the thought. "Chico did love cars, man."
"Don't I fuckin' know it? How you think I ended up with that hunk of metal at the house?" He referred to the car Chico had been working on for the past year.
"He got real close to finishing it though."
"Not close enough. I don't even know how I'ma pay for all the parts it needs, let alone the paint job and the subwoofers— man. Nigga left me with a whole fuckin' DIY project."
Sage chuckled. "Maybe you could use it. Take your mind off other shit."
"Yeah, maybe."
The two cruised on, arriving at Ken's boss in a timely manner. And while the car was disassembled, Sage and Ken were gifted their paycheck, which was stuffed in a duffel bag, and sent on their way.
"That wasn't so bad, right?" Ken nudged as they made their way home.
"I guess," Sage chuckled, thanking God that it was a lot less traumatizing and a lot more painless than he anticipated.
The two made it home as Ken recalled the arrangements a friend of theirs was making for a kickback, the welcome-home party he'd promised Sage.
"Brandi's gone be there, so that means Tricia shouldn't be trippin' when you go back to work at the Skyboxx," Ken nodded, locking the door while Sage grabbed his phone from his room and returned to the living room.
"I missed three days without givin' her a heads up. What'chu mean Tricia shouldn't be trippin'?"
"Brandi already knew we was gon' be gone, so she already told Trish. You know she's like that lady's watchdog," Ken chuckled as Sage witnessed the numerous notifications from Darcy-Ann.
"Fuck," it was with eyes widened in horror that Sage's stomach dropped through the couch.
"What?" Ken had just thrown down their newly awarded duffel bag on the coffee table.
"I think I just lost my girl."
Ken scoffed. "That girl you trickin' on?"
"My girlfriend, Ken. Show some respect, bruh."
"My fault, OG," he snickered while sitting in the recliner and unzipping the bag. "What she mad about? You late payin' her rent?"
"I ain't tell her I was goin' off the grid and leavin' my phone here."
"Good. Tellin' somebody that usually defeats the purpose."
"But Brandi knew— Oh, nah, this is bad," Sage scrolled up to see Darcy's voice memos. He was almost scared to listen to them. "She fuckin' cussin' me out and shit."
"You got a crazy one, huh? They be the best ones—"
"Aye, shut the fuck up for, like, two seconds, Ken."
Sage attempted to call her to no avail. He'd even attempted to send texts, but they'd gone through green.
"Aye, lemme see your phone," he called while skimming over her harsh parting words.
"Hell nah, man. I gotta touch base with my own—"
"Ken, for real."
With a kiss of his teeth, Ken found his device and tossed it to him.
Sage dialed Darcy's number manually, reading each digit from his phone and dialing it into Ken's.
After the third ring, the call was answered. With music softly playing and the clank of pans in the background, her sweet voice crept into his ear.
He sighed, trying not to let a smile spread over his lips. He'd missed her, and although he had some explaining to do, he couldn't miss a moment to bask in her sultry timbre.
"Hello? Who's this?"
"Darcy-Ann—"
"Fuck off my line, Sage."
The line disconnected.
He called her back. Voicemail.
When he tried again. It was the same result.
"Fuck," he stood up from the couch.
"Where you goin'?"
"I'm goin' over to her place."
Ken's eyebrow raised, "That don't sound crazy to you?"
"I gotta let her know what's up."
"Nigga, just chill out. A'ight? Give her some space. Let's split this money up."
"Ken—"
"If she's as great as you say she is, she ain't goin' nowhere. This money, however, is. Let's go."
Sage acquiesced with a deep sigh, sitting back down as they removed stacks of dollar bills and assigned amounts.
The first order of business was the showcase money, set to be paid first thing in the morning.
Sage's efforts to reach Darcy paused for a day, telling himself that he was giving her space.
But just like anything else in his life, it ultimately didn't last long. He felt like waiting around was a stupid move.
"Why wouldn't I be pullin' up on her after I'd spent three days with absolutely no contact?" he thought.
They had enough space, and the fact that their distance persisted left Sage as sick as a dog, Friday night.
And his only remedy was Darcy.
Sage was surrounded with drinks and banter from friends at a welcome-home party, and when he wasn't faking smiles and laughs, he was tapping Darcy's number in his call log.
All the while, Darcy and Aria were having another girls-night-in. After a successful couple of days of hanging out, their weekly ritual of movies and junk food seemed to have found its way back into their routine.
With popcorn and their favorite fictional men, there was nothing that could spoil their evening.
Except for Sage's persistent calling.
Aria insisted that Darcy answer the call, to at least put an end to the madness for the night.
So, Darcy went into her room while Aria refilled their dwindling bowl of popcorn.
She called him, the sight of her name across his screen nearly catching Sage off guard. He made it somewhere quiet as fast as humanly possible before picking up.
"Sage, stop fuckin' callin' me. Just 'cuz you use star-sixty-seven doesn't mean I don't know it's you."
"Darcy, I am so sorry—"
"Fuck you, Sage. Like, for real. You got some fuckin' nerve, callin' me like you crazy when I didn't hear from you for almost four days."
"Dar—"
"All 'dem fuckin' days! You coulda at least texted me."
"I didn't have my phone on me."
"For three days? That's bullshit!"
"Darcy, I swear to God, I ain't have it on me. I had somethin' to do, and we left out so quick that I ain't have the cha—"
"Okay, even if that's the truth, like— what does it say about what this relationship is gonna give, if you don't talk to me? If you not tellin' me shit like this? If you'd rather I be pullin' my fuckin' hair out over you, huh? I'm tellin' my daddy 'boutchu, and you playin' in my fuckin' face."
"Darcy-Ann, I am so sorry. I would've told you, if I remembered."
"Would you have?"
"Yes! I put that on my best friend's grave, I would never even think to do you like that. On God."
There was a long pause. Sage glimpsed at his phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped.
"What was you doin', them three days?"
"I was doin' somethin' wit' Ken."
"Okay? What the fuck I'm supposed to say to that? The fuck kinda' answer is that? What I'ma do with that, Sage? You're fuckin' wit' me!"
"We needed some money, so we had to go do somethin'."
"I thought you wasn't like that."
"Like what?"
"You be slangin'? What'chu be doin'?"
"Nah, I don't do that. It was a one time thing, Darcy-Ann."
"And how often you do this one time thing?"
"Never. It was once, and it'll never happen again. I promise you."
"I don't do dope dealers and shit, Sage. I don't deal wit' nunna'dat typa' shit, so if that's what'chu on, you need to tell me right now."
"I don't do that, Darcy."
"If them people come knockin' on my door about'chu, I'ma knock yo' head between ya' shoulder blades, Sage."
"You ain't gotta worry about that."
"If you needed money like that, why you ain't tell me?"
"It wasn't your problem to solve, Darcy-Ann."
"Oh, so I'm just supposed to be big chillin' while you—"
"Yes!" He insisted.
Yes? She'd been going through all this turmoil because of money, and she's supposed to turn a blind eye to the fact that it could be an issue again? An issue that she was expected to watch him deal with by himself?
What kind of woman did he think she was? What kind of relationship did he really want with her? What level of emotional depth did he think was required of him?
"Fuck you for real, Sage."
"For real?"
"For real! 'Cuz what the fuck? I can bare my whole soul but you too much of a man to do the same? Like, the fuck?"
"As long as you're good, Darcy, I'm good."
"I'm not good if you're not good though, Sage! Like— all this over some fucking money! You just went away, and I've been tryna act like I'm not hurt because of some money? Like, I been in this bitch losin' my fuckin' mind! Are you crazy?"
"I missed you too."
She folded her arms, her emotions softening as the feeling of tears left a soreness in her throat. She hated how much it meant to hear him say that.
"Fuck, Sage," she whimpered, trying to hold herself together.
She inhaled shakily, her eyes closing as she fought for a feeling of stability while her emotions spun.
Sage waited for her to say something, anything. His oxygen intake paused for as long as it took her to find her words.
She finally exhaled, her shallow breath reminding him of the tears she'd unleashed in his presence.
"I need time," she whispered.
He exhaled too, falling from the suspension she put him in. "Okay... Can I call you tomorrow?"
"I won't answer."
"Then I'll call after that."
"Okay."
"I'm sorry again, Darcy-Ann."
"Fuck off my line, Sage."
The call ended.
Sage sighed with a groan, feeling as if he'd just endured the most intense interrogation he'd ever experienced in his life— even more intense than the one he'd received from certified killers, only days ago.
He wasn't sure where things would go from here, but he found peace knowing that he'd told her the truth and apologized.
With a need to unwind more present now that he'd just gotten grilled, he opted to give into the swing of the party and made a beeline for the bottles of alcohol.
Meanwhile, Darcy recomposed herself.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled even deeper. She returned to the living room, curling up to a pillow and urging Aria to just pick something already.
"Girl, don't rush me. You know I'm indecisive," Aria gave the tiniest laugh to ease whatever her friend was feeling.
She glanced over at her, watching her hold back tears.
She reached for Darcy, running a comforting hand up and down her arm. "It's okay, Dee."
"It's really not, and that's why we need to pick a movie so I can stop thinkin' about this nigga."
"Girl, if that was the goal, why are we watching Rom-Coms? Let me pull up Scary Movie or somethin'," Aria exited the TV app she was in and opted for another.
Darcy smiled slightly, "Thanks, Ari."
"Do you wanna talk about it at all before I put it on though?" she inquired.
Darcy shook her head.
"You sure? Because once the credits start rollin', I'ma be in a silly goofy mood, and I won't be able to meet you where you're at."
Darcy chortled, knowing how unserious she could be after a Wayans' production. So she sat up, still hugging the couch pillow, and began.
"I just don't want to forgive him and have him thinkin' it's okay to pop in and out of my life. I've dealt with that shit all my life, Ari. I can't deal with it anymore."
"And you shouldn't have to. You deserve better than that."
"But fuck, I miss him... like, so bad. I've gotten so used to him being here, I don't want to see him go... but he was always meant to leave me."
"Maybe he'll stay."
"I wouldn't let him do that."
"Darcy, if you want him to stay and he wants to stay, and is begging you to let him, why wouldn't you?"
" 'Cuz it'll all be for nothing, because even if he wants to stay, he won't. He'll leave like the rest."
"Even if he does, why not enjoy him while you still have him here? If you know he's gonna leave, at least you'll be able to be in it without the rug being pulled from beneath you when you least expect it."
Darcy sighed deeply.
Aria continued, "I mean, think about it. You've got this guy staking his claim to be with you. Regardless of the outcome— regardless of whether he'll leave Mason, he's giving you all he's got. That's gotta be worth somethin'... Right?"
Darcy's head fell against the couch cushion, her neck craned as she stared at the ceiling. "Fuck..."
"I'm just speakin' real," Ari shrugged before clicking on Scary Movie. "He still left you hangin' for three days... but he did come back... on his hands and knees, no less."
Darcy sucked her teeth with a glare as she sat up straight again. "He is not on his hands and knees."
"He might as well be. He callin' you from blocked numbers and shit. He prolly about ten minutes from sending you an email... Shit, he prolly gon' pop up on you wit' a boombox. He know where we live?"
"Fuck," she groaned.
" 'Fuck' is right, girl. You got your work cut out for you. Now, come on. The water park is closed. Wipe them tears and lock in. It's time to hee-hee ha-ha. Fuck that nigga."
While Aria passed the bowl of popcorn to Darcy and turned up the volume of the television, Darcy cackled and did just that.
Sucking up her tears and scooping out a fist full of popcorn, she pushed her worries aside and joined Aria in reciting lines of dialogue and roaring with laughter at the screen.