🎶you never liked the way I said it. if you don't get it, then forget it🎶
-lana del rey
#2024
Omniscient~
NAIJA was at the store, shopping for some groceries for her kitchen since it was getting a bit empty again.
"Tomatoes, onions, apples, oranges..." she muttered to herself, walking to the produce section with her cart. Her cart was filled with just a few things—mostly snacks as she knows she much of a snacker as opposed to real food-
-and so is Michael. Whom she hasn't spoken to in a few days and whom's aura has been a bit different lately. She knew exactly why so there was no questioning it. She just hopes he gets used to this soon.
She likes to keep a list with her while shopping to keep things more organized. She hates forgetting things and having to come back.
Plus, she doesn't own her own car, so she Ubers frequently when Michael isn't available since they live apart now. He offers to pay for her Ubers but she's tired of relying on him and feels she's being too spoiled by him often.
She filled her cart with some fresh produce and a few other items before her eyes passed the baby section of the store. It makes her a bit nervous each time she does.
Her eyes lingered on the small clothing a bit longer. She glanced down at her stomach, realizing she's starting to show a bit more now being almost at 16 weeks now. She started showing a bit earlier though since she's of a more smaller or average frame.
She's been so preoccupied that she forgot she needs to start planning ahead...
Baby furniture, clothing, formula, stability—everything. It hasn't hit her until now. Or maybe she was avoiding it until she really starts to near her due date.
She doesn't know the gender, and will not have the option to for a few more weeks—but she doesn't have a preference anyway. She would be satisfied with anything.
Although she has no knowledge of the gender, she moved towards the baby clothing anyway, starting with the girl section. It made her smile just a bit, remembering how she you used to gush over it when shopping with her father when she was younger.
She was obsessed with baby dolls, so her father would buy them all the time. She almost forgot how nurturing she was at a younger age—but her maternal instincts have gone away as she's grown but her trauma only increased.
She glanced at the time as it was just nearing 3pm, realizing she was hungry. Her hand grazed the pink onesie she had her eye on for a while before deciding to go pay and get home to make something to eat.
Meanwhile, Michael was with King, as per usual. They'd gotten into a bit of a situation-
"We ain't got no firearms on us right now. This is so unnecessary." King exhaled as they were pulled over at the side of the road by an all so familiar police officer that's always on their tails: Officer Pedesko.
The officer had originally pulled them over for speeding, then was suspicious of weapons as he had already pat them down, standing beside their cars. He has no warrant or probable cause, so he can't really search their car on suspicion as of now.
"I'm letting you off with a ticket, Michael. Next time you're locked up. This is like our 6th time catching you out here speeding like you have no sense. Watch yourselves." He eyed them before turning around and walking back to his car.
Michael kissed his teeth, looking him up and down. Usually he'd have something smart to say back, but he was quiet and over it all the while. After so many times you learn to give up. "6th time my ass." He muttered. "I ain't even paid the last 5 tickets."
King snickered as they got back into the car. "Foul as hell for that." He shook his head. "Where you headed next?" He asked.
Michael began driving again, as fast as he previously was before...
"I needa drop water off at Naija's place so I'll drop you off first." He replied.
Naija has yet to buy a water dispenser, so she's been living off of cases of water bottles for a little while now.
King nodded. "Y'all figurin' shit out?" He raised a brow, referring to their pregnancy situation since things have been a bit complicated lately due to it.
Michael exhaled, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess. Shit's fucked up right now. 'N y'all wonder why I drink."
King scoffed. "Does she even know yo ass drinks every night now? You're outta control ma nigga."
Michael rolled his eyes, already denying it. "Shut the hell up I'm not.
"At least you know where she even is. You ain't even know that much last time I asked. Mans was high as shit."
Michael managed to crack a smile. "I'on remember that." He denied as well.
He dropped King home before heading over to Naija's place. The last few times he's been there, they hadn't brought up the pregnancy to keep a sense of tranquility for a minute. He knows it's inevitable now though.
He was there within 15 minutes, lightly knocking on the door with his free hand quickly before holding the case of water in his hand.
Naija opened the door. "Oh," she quickly stepped aside to let him in and put down the heavy water. "sorry." She sheepishly smiled, realizing she'd taken quite a while to open the door as she was in the bathroom.
"How you been?" Michael asked her, leaning in to kiss her which she melted into for just the short second it lasted. "Good. I just went shopping today." She briefly answered.
It was silent for a moment, before he sighed, breaking it. "I'm sorry for deflecting the conversation last time by goin' out to drink." He finally said. "It was immature."
She was surprised, considering he isn't so quick to apologize for his actions or admit he's being immature most of the time. She showed him a smile. "What's gotten into you? You're not usually this quick to apologize."
He shrugged, cracking another smile. "I'm tryna change. Like I said I would."
He meant more so in terms of his attitude as opposed to his lifestyle—which she would prefer—but he's taking baby steps.
Speaking of babies-
"I know the conversation made you uncomfortable." Naija muttered, grazing her hand against her elbow as her arms were crossed. She was in a tight tank top and shorts. Comfortable.
His eyes glanced at her stomach in an uneasy manner before facing her again. "I wasn't uncomfortable." He mocked her. "It's..." he trailed off. "It's complicated." He settled on that instead. He truly doesn't know how he was feeling. He's not even sure how he feels now. He just can't get used to it.
"So..." Naija started again. "How are things gonna work out with us living apart?" She asked. Her eyes were on her hands as she fiddled with her fingernails all the while. She was always so nervous discussing this with him.
He's been thinking of that too. He bit his lip, looking up at the ceiling before nodding. "I'll figure that out. You ain't comin' back to my house though. I know it's dangerous there. Jus' stay here 'til I sort that shit out."
She nodded. "Okay."
She glanced at him again. He was wearing just a black hoodie with black sweat pants. He had basic a black beanie hat on, covering most of his curls. He looked a bit drowsy today—slight puffy eyes and a bit of a flushed look on his face.
"Did you drink last night?" Naija asked. Not in an accusing way, but just curiously. She surprisingly wasn't angry or disappointed. She can't micromanage his drinking all the time. She just doesn't like him doing it to ignore his feelings—which he's been doing anyway.
He showed a lazy smile. "It's that obvious?"
She just shook her head, matching his smile. "Yes, it is. Michael let's talk about the elephant in the room. You're more nervous about this than I am." She pointed out.
He shook his head. "I'm not-"
She gave him a dry look, showing she won't believe any denials from him. "Ight I won't lie 'n say I ain't a bit weary." He shrugged.
"Your weariness is stressing me out." She voiced out her feelings—which she isn't used to doing much either. They were both shocking each other today.
"Ight. Lemme not stress you out." He nodded, standing straight again. "You thinkin' bout the room at least?"
She tilted her head to the side. "In this place?"
"Yeah. It's only 1 bedroom. You want the crib in your room or a separate room? If so, you gotta move. As for me, like I said, I'll figure the shit wit' my house out soon." He said.
He had a point. Naija currently rents a one bedroom apartment. If they were all under the same roof, they'd need a bigger place eventually. She looked around in thought and nodded. "You're right." She muttered.
"Don't think about that shit right now, ight? Take things easy." He assured her.
She thought he should follow his own advice. "You should too, Michael. Really." She said, raising her hand up to caress his arm lightly. "You'll be fine."
He gave her a lazy look and just nodded. There's a lot of things he's going to have to change about his lifestyle and he's not sure if he's up for it yet.
"You want lunch?" Naija asked opening the fridge to warm up some of what she had eaten earlier, before he came.
He nodded again. "Yeah." He uttered, leaning against the countertop and watched as she fixed something up for him. "I'on think I've eaten today."
She raised a brow. "You sound like me now."
He scoffed. "Woke up hungover as fuck. Head was pounding. I was seein' stars."
She laughed to herself. "So not cute."
He stuck out his tongue a bit and began laughing at himself which she hates when he does. "You're not funny. Stop getting drunk." She smiled, shaking her head.
He nodded. "Ight. I quit." He fibbed as she brought his food out the microwave and handed it to him. He blew at it before taking a bite. "Will that make you happy?"
She nodded with a cheeky smile, making him gently push her face away. "I'm gonna need to look for a stable job soon." Naija then sighed, opening a bottle of water.
Michael cocked a brow after nearly choking for some time on his hot food that he failed to let cool down first. "What, you mean get a real job?" He almost cringed.
She laughed again and nodded. "Yeah. My clothing business is doing okay, but I want something else because that's more of a side hustle, y'know?"
"We'n need jobs, jit." Michael denied.
She'd almost forgotten that Michael's basically never worked a day in his life. He gets his money in a very non-traditional way...
"Yes I do." She whined.
"I already got that shit covered, Naija." He pointed out. "You really don't gotta work as long as you got me around. You know that."
"But I wanna be independent. I don't wanna depend on you all the time." She replied, placing the water she opened into the fridge to cool.
He shook his head and just continued eating. "You're doin' all the pointless worrying again. How much you spend on Ubers?" He confronted her, raising a brow.
She shrugged. "Like maybe a $100 so far."
"Yet you won't lemme take care of that shit either.
As if I'm not loaded.."
"No I won't. Thank you for understanding." She smiled cheekily again in return.
She then opened the fridge to get him some juice. "So what are you doing the rest of today?"
In his days of drinking lately, he knows he has to be more responsible. So he's already been planning on changing his lifestyle—to his dismay.
"I jus' needa take care of some shit today. Nothin' much."
She narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"
"Whachu think imma do?"
She shrugged. "Nothing." She replied in a higher voice. "I'm gonna sleep the rest of today. I'm so tired." She yawned into her hand.
He head tilted towards the hallway leading to her room. "Go sleep. Imma get goin' soon. I'll lock up." He assured her and she hesitantly lingered around.
"But I wanna watch you eat more. It's so fun."
He rolled his eyes with a smirk. "I'm done eatin'. Weird ass. Go 'n sleep." He shooed her away and knowing she wouldn't be satisfied until getting at least a kiss from him, he leaned down and kissed her shortly before she went off to bed.
He turned off her kitchen light and left, locking her front door before getting into his car.
He sat in the drivers seat, exhaling heavily as he did so. He leaned his head against the seat, contemplating on his next actions.
The first step to changing up his lifestyle a bit before his child comes is erasing one of his most dangerous affiliations—the mafia. He hated it, but it's the right thing to do.
"Yo," he said into the phone. "we needa talk. Imma be there in an hour, so open the gate for me." He hung up, placing his phone into the cup holder and began driving down the highway to a certain destination.
༒
He made it there within an hour like he stated and exited his car looking up at the large house ahead of him. King always called it a mansion with how big it truly was.
The gate opened as soon as he stood right in front of it as they've been expecting him.
He walked up to the front door and was greeted with a tall muscular man who looked like a body guard. "What's your business?" The man asked.
"I'm here for Salvatore. He's knows I'm here fam." Michael rolled his eyes.
The man looked back, speaking to a voice in the distance. "It's Mike. Let him in."
The man nodded and stepped aside, letting Michael inside. The house was large. Almost larger than he remembered. It has heavy security with few people inside.
Salvatore, the man Michael came to meet, descended down the large staircase. "What's up?" He asked. His voice and personality is usually very tough, but around Michael he is a bit cautious and neutral....
"I'm jus' here to discuss some shit. Thas' it." Michael assured him and Salvatore nodded, leading him to a more private room with luxury couches and a TV.
"So, about our deal..." Michael started, sitting onto the opposite couch from Salvatore.
Salvatore is an ex-mafia member.
He was previously a part of an Italian mafia that resides in Detroit with ties around the globe. He comes from a family line of them.
A few years ago, a few members of the mafia had gotten caught and arrested and put on death row for serious crimes and charges.
Michael and King knew Salvatore's cousin who had gone to their high school. His cousin was caught along with the rest, but Salvatore had escaped with some others.
The only ones with knowledge about Salvatore's whereabouts were Michael and King, who had threatened to turn him in in exchange for money. If they snitched on him, he would've been up for death row, so he agreed to a deal with them.
The deal was to supply them with money from his family wealth every month—which they use specifically to pay for their current houses.
In other words, both King and Michael don't even pay their own bills.
Despite the deal, Salvatore still lives in fear that he'll one day get caught, although police don't suspect him due to them not really knowing his identity as well as some other members of the mafia unless someone informed them of them.
He basically does what Michal and King say, in exchange for his life saved from death row.
Salvatore began to get a bit nervous. "What about the deal?" He asked, his fingers tapped against the couch he sat on.
"We gon' have to switch some shit up." Michael sighed, sitting up a bit. He knew his lack of elaboration was making Salvatore's skin crawl.
"What more could y'all ask for? I gave you money for the month right?" He reasoned, his hands out in curiosity.
Salvatore was one of the youngest members in the Italian mafia, as it's full of older middle aged men—including his father and uncles. They're filthy rich and tied to dirty money from Italy.
"Relax." Michael rolled his eyes. "It ain't about that. I jus' wanna tell you the deal's off wit' me at least. I'on know 'bout King, but I'm callin' mine off."
His brows furrowed. "Why? You gonna snitch?" He asked, his voice taunting almost but his eyes pleading for mercy.
Michael laughed of no amusement. "I'on got a reason to do that, Sal. We only blackmailed you 'cause we greedy. But nah, I'm callin' it off 'cause I'on wanna be tied to you no more. 'N I won't snitch. Pretend you'n know me from now on."
Salvatore found that hard to believe. Too good to be true. "Really?" He asked, his eyes narrowed and his head tilted a bit. "What's the catch?"
Michael lazily surrendered. "There's no catch. I ain't one to lie. Plus this involves me missin' out on money. You know i'on usually play like that. So call off the deal. I'm straight."
Salvatore nodded and stood up as Michael stood. "Okay," he said, coming to terms with it. "then we're good." He clarified and Michael nodded as well. He even held out his hand to be shook, making Michael kiss his teeth
"This ain't necessary."
"I'm just being sure. I don't want trouble with you people. You could cause hell for me." Salvatore shrugged, as Michael sighed once more and shook on it.
He walked out of the mansion and back to his car. His house and himself was no more tied to the mafia from now on, so he's able to move out and do as he will freely—
but for some reason he found himself feeling lousy about it.
Getting monthly checks from the mafia since he was 19 was always his own little blessing. He feels empty without it.
He got back into his car as the sun began to set, making the sky turn a nice golden color. He had plans to get a touch up on a previous tattoo. It's been a while. Plus, he knew King was there too.
He drove to Essy's place in a matter of an hour again and was let in with sideways looks.
"Tat me once you done wit' King." He said, taking a seat beside them as Emmanuel, Essy's boyfriend, was also present. "Where the hell you come from, bro?"
Michael sat back, staring straight at the ceiling. "Mafia."
"Okay. Unexpected."
"You went to see Salvatore's ass?" King asked, who was currently getting a tattoo from Essy who was nice and focused.
Michael nodded lazily. "Yeah. I called off the deal."
They swear they heard a record scratch as they all paused and looked at him. Shocked. "Nigga huh?"
Michael nodded, his eyes half closed like he were to fall asleep. "Had to."
"Wait," Essy leaned in and sniffed him a bit before straight facing him. "did you drink before coming here? You smell like Vodka."
Michael shrugged.
"You drove here tipsy?" Emmanuel dryly asked.
"Michael don't come here doing that again. I'm so serious. You guys are so annoying." Essy rolled her eyes, shaking her head before aggressively continuing King's tattoo-
"Oww. Why you takin' it out on me?" King flinched.
"All that money I jus' called off." Michael sighed, his eyes still to the ceiling. "I could fuckin' cry."
"Mans is having money withdrawals." Emmanuel muttered, making King snicker with him before they earned a glare from Essy, making them stop.
"If you're so distressed about it, why did you do it?" Essy asked cluelessly.
Emmanuel and King exchanged looks. "So who gon' tell her?"
She narrowed her eyes and looked around. "Tell me what? What's going on?"
"Naija's pregnant." King said, knowing Michael doesn't care who knows anymore. "'N I'm guessing he's cuttin' a lotta ties 'cause of it. Thas' jus' me though."
"What?!" Essy screamed, pausing King's tattoo. "Are you serious?!" She pulled on Michael's arm. "Are you just fuckin' with me or you're for real?"
"Essy," Michael hissed, "you're too loud, man."
"Oh my gosh!" She covered her mouth. "That is so adorable! I gotta call her-"
"Aye, aye, let it settle in first. They're both not comin' to terms wit' it yet. Now finish my tattoo I ain't take my nap today." King warned her.
She composed herself. "Okay, okay. But that is so crazy! You gonna have a little bebita or bebé runnin' around ruining your lives!" She cooed with her hands folded.
Emmanuel joined in. "Muh fuckas are gonna get no sleep whatsoever. Cansado todo el tiempo." They laughed together like an old couple.
Michael couldn't care less what they were rambling about as his eyes stayed half closed and to the ceiling.
King shook his head, snickering. "Y'all cruel as hell."
"But wait," Essy stopped her swooning. "what does this have to do with the mafia?"
"We got them niggas payin' for our houses." King shrugged. "We blackmailed 'em few years ago. So we wouldn't snitch on 'em 'n get them on death row, we made 'em give us monthly checks."
"So y'all basically got sugar daddies is what I'm hearin'." Emmanuel said.
Michael had to avert his eyes from the ceiling and to him for the words that just came out his mouth. "Don't make me beat your ass right now."
"Sugar daddies is crazy. 'N the deal was nice as fuck. Shit, since Mike called his off I might call mine off too." King said.
"You guys are ruthless. Why'd you have to blackmail them? They did nothing to you." Essy swooned, continuing his tattoo.
"For fun." Michael muttered. "Fun's over now."
There's much more "cutting ties" he's going to have to do, which is increasing his drive to drink right about now.
He hates that all he can get out of doing the right things—like cutting ties—is the money he's losing. He grew up fixated on money and would do anything for it. It caused him to become very greedy and narrow minded.
Money is the root of his happiness, but also the root of his problems.
He also hates that he isn't doing this for himself, but for Naija. His main motivation is her. He wanted to change just for her, but wished he had the motivation to change for himself. He was never interested in changing himself. He knew it'd be hard.
"Well I think it's very mature of you, Mike." Essy doted on him like a mother. "You're probably the first person on the planet to cut ties with a mafia member that easily."
He glanced at her and kissed his teeth. "I wasn't actually a part of the mafia, dumb ass."
Essy smiled. "I know. Just wanted to lighten the mood." She reached over and pushed him lightly. "Lighten up. Money isn't everything."
"It really is though." King muttered, making her glare at him next and he surrendered with his free arm that wasn't getting tattooed at the moment. "Jus' sayin'."
After some time, Essy was able to do a quick touch up on one of Michael's tattoos and all the while he sobered up—considering he was only a bit tipsy when he arrived.
"Should I be letting you drive home?" Essy asked from the doorway, standing beside Emmanuel as they watched the two of them take off.
"I'm fine." Michael waved her off, unlocking his car with his key. King did the same to his. "I live like 3 blocks away anyway."
Eventually Michael arrived home. Bear ran excitedly to his feet, which managed to put a brief smile on his face as he knelt down and ruffled his fur a bit before going to the kitchen. "You behave today?" Michael asked Bear as if he could respond.
Bear just followed him to the kitchen as Michael wished for cup of water. His eyes grazed past the bottle of liquor that he had drank a bit of before heading to Essy's, as he stopped by here first.
The urge to drink became harder and harder to ignore the more seconds passed by. He didn't know when he became so reliant on alcohol. Soon it's gonna become a serious problem...
Bear barked, snapping him out of his trance and he looked down at the dog who tilted his head to the side in curiosity. He always sensed when Michael's energy was off and he could sense so right about now.
He knows he's gonna have to move out of his house soon. That's another stressful thing to think about..
He soon filled Bear's bowls up with food for dinner but wasn't quite hungry for dinner himself, although he was hungry for something else..
As the sky got darker and as Bear slept, Michael was up all night, drinking, calling people up, and clearing up most of his plugs across Detroit.
It was like he was going through a detoxification of all of the bad connections with people and money all around him. It was nearly taking a toll on him because he knew he was losing most of his connections to money: his number one love apart from Naija.
He hadn't realized how many days and nights passed by in this process of him cleansing his connections as well as drinking. A week would pass, and it felt like almost a day to him.
Giselle on the other hand, his mother, attempted to visit him a few times but to no avail because he was always sleeping the day away. He just went ghost for weeks—but would make sure to text Naija at night sometimes at least to let her know he's alive
Despite that, 3 more weeks passed. It felt like a few days to him though. And all the while, with him getting his life together and his drinking, he hasn't actually seen Naija in person in these past few weeks.
"Naija?" Naija turned around to a familiar voice, on her way inside the mall one November afternoon. She met eyes with Michael's mother who had on a trench coat and scarf for the cool November air.
Naija smiled. "Oh, good afternoon." She greeted her politely.
Giselle smiled back. "Good afternoon to you too. I was surprised to see you. It's been so long." She said and Naija nodded. "It has. I think the last time was in August. How are things?"
Giselle sighed and shrugged but showed a smile. "It's been okay. I've been trying to visit and contact Michael for a little while now but he's always so occupied with something. Do you know.." she trailed off and glanced at Naija's stomach. Her eyes widened lightly. "Wait..are you..."
Naija followed her gaze and showed a solemn smile. "Yes, I am." She nodded. "I thought Michael would've told you."
She's showing a bit more now, being over 3 months.
She shook her head. "He hasn't." Her voice was a bit meek. She was so shocked she couldn't think straight. She looked back up at Naija and just showed a smile. "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you guys." She says, bringing Naija into a hug which she obliged.
Naija could tell that she sounded a bit off—a hint of sadness. Possibly because it wasn't Michael who told her and due to her finding out so late.
"But you're right, Michael's been MIA for a while." Naija said, deciding to open up a bit. She felt she couldn't really share this with anyone and is just keeping it to herself. "We haven't seen each other in a little while. I don't know what he's so busy doing. He doesn't like to tell me anything. But he hasn't fully gotten used to my pregnancy, so I think that's part of the case."
Giselle just stared at the sidewalk beneath them as she spoke. All of this sounds a bit too familiar. It sounds almost like herself...
She placed a hand on Naija's shoulder. "I'll try to get through to him soon. Thank you for telling me." She assured her, making Naija smile. She felt more at ease telling someone close to Michael—not relationship-wise, but genetic wise. It's possible she could miraculously get through to him.
Naija has been giving him his space and it's best not to interfere whenever he gets like this. Although he texts her—at night—she has no idea what he's up to. She hates it.
Giselle waved bye to her and they parted ways. She just watched as Giselle walked through the parking lot to her car before turning on her feet to enter the mall and buy a few things.
She has an appointment coming up tomorrow, and she would like Michael to at least show up to it as he hasn't been able to attend the others.
Taking things one day at a time is getting much harder to do.
Michael woke up to loud knocks at his door. He sat up in his dark room, realizing he passed out just around 2pm and it was now just 5pm. He got up and stretched his muscles, yawning in the process.
The past few weeks have been a bit hectic. Cutting ties isn't always too easy—but it comes with its perks.
Salvatore isn't the only one he's blackmailed "for fun" as many of his "victims" have come pouring to his house with their last offerings.
He opened the door to Ken, the guy who helped him "take care" of Naija's cousins some months back and ever since then he hasn't heard from them.
"Here." Ken dryly spoke, holding out a large stack of cash. "I'on know whachu up to, but take your cash 'n leave me out of it."
Michael just did what he did with the rest of the people who owed him: told them whatever deal or connection they had was gone. The fact that some are taking it as a threat says a lot.
Michael's tired face turned into a brief grin. "Nigga all I said was shit's over. I ain't got nothin' against you—but thanks for the cash." He snatched it up with greed anyway. "Sayonara." He waved lazily.
"Whachu mean shit's over? What, you jus' randomly cuttin' off deals 'n messin' wit' ya money for fun?" Ken cocked a brow.
Michael shook his head. "For fun." He laughed shortly of no amusement. "Ight. Tell them other niggas shit's over too 'n to stay the fuck away from me or I'll finish what I started." He said before closing the door in his face with a desire to count up the money he received.
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, seeing it was from Naija:
Naija: you missed the appointment today
"Shit." He cursed to himself. He had completely overslept. He really did plan on seeing Naija today and getting over himself to finally follow her to an appointment and to stop being a coward in this entire situation.
: shit
: I overslept like crazy
Naija: it's fine .
He could sense the hostility over the text messages like a thousand punches. She isn't quick to anger or annoyance, but he could still sense she's bothered
: come on
Naija: it's okay. u were tired.
Her excessive use in punctuations was suspicious as well...
: naija
: ill come to the next one
: im serious
She stopped replying afterwards, making him just sigh and place his phone back into his pocket. His head was pounding as it does pretty frequently now.
He went to the kitchen, taking some pain killers as Bear watched while chewing on his chew toy.
He had empty bottles of alcohol everywhere. His kitchen could be mistaken as a bar.
He wished to go back to sleep, but he knew it would be a good time to finally go see Naija and remind himself he has a pregnant girlfriend.
He looked up as he heard the doorbell once again. He kissed his teeth of laziness and trudged to the door. Upon seeing who it was through the window, it never fails to surprise him.
He opened the door to Giselle who had a rather stern look on her face as opposed to the warm look she now always gives him.
"What-" he was cut off by her. "Can I come in?" She asked.
He sensed her hostility as well and decided not to be stubborn and to hear her out. Whatever it is must be important. "What's this about?" He asked, closing the door.
"We needa talk." Is all she said.
She felt its finally time to put her foot down and to prevent what happened to his father, from happening to him.
**
A/n: happy new year🥂