BOW!
im tied, been up doin' school work and shit. but anyways, updates are comin y'all wayyyy~
excuse any errors
vote, comment, and enjoy💕
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It had been a hot summer day.
His friend had came over, and after playing video games for hours and hours on end, they went to the kitchen to find something to eat. The younger prepared a sandwhich while the older talked shit in his ear, and fed up with his childhood friends childish taunts, the younger shoved the older.
Seconds later they were zooming throughout the house, a game of tag formed from their constant shoving and running away. They laughed loudly at one another, speeding through the living room and kitchen, continuously looping around until the older's side bumped into the small table that sat near one of the couches in the living room.
His eyes widened as the vase that sat on the table fell over and shattered into a million little pieces. It couldn't even be salvaged, thats how bad it was, and he immediately threw his arms up, hands coming to rest on his head. He was fucked.
And to make matters worse, a car was suddenly pulling into the driveway, and one peek through the window made his heart drop to his ass at who he saw coming towards the house. While he panicked, his friend was already dashing away through the backdoor and yelling to him that he was on his own, jumping the fence of his backyard and going back to his own house.
He did the first thing that came to mind, and immediately ran upstairs.
~
"Kentrell!"
The young boy stiffened under his bed, trying to control his breathing so he wouldn't get caught. Hard footsteps were heard coming upstairs, and he held his breath as his bedroom door was busted wide opened, the sound echoing throughout the house.
"Boy, where you at? Always messin' shit up in this bitch. Lil fuck up." The man muttered, and Kentrell continued to stay silent, heart beating fast in his chest.
The older man huffed. "You got five seconds to come out, or else I'm finna break ma foot off in yo ass." And from the tone of the man's voice, the boy knew his uncle wasn't playing, and he quickly scrambled from underneath the bed.
The older kept himself together, was tall and muscular, having short salt and pepper hair and soft brown eyes. That were now hardened as he crossed his arms and peered down at him, anger clearly radiating off his body, veins popping out his neck. He hated upsetting his uncle, the man was like a role model to him and taught him so much, promising to fill the void and take over where his father couldn't. And he did for the most part, but Kentrell couldn't stand being on the man's bad side.
"So you was just finna leave that big ass mess on that flo' like that? Ain't even try to clean it up?"
"I-I panicked mane! I swea', it was an accident and then I saw you pullin' up, I just ran." He knew that Joe and him shouldn't have been running around the house like that, especially with delicate and breakable pieces laying around, but the older seemed to be a little too mad at him. Was the man that irritated over him breaking a vase?
"H-How was your day?" He asked, trying to calm the man down a little.
"...Long. Muthafuckas been gettin' on ma nerves all fuckin' day."
And silence passed over them as they both stared at each other, Kentrell beginning to shuffle on his feet as the older looked over him with familar leering eyes. The man's hand slowly reached behind him, closing and locking the door, and his body tightened.
"...You know what happens when you misbehave, right?"
"I-I..." Kentrell played with his fingers, ducking his head down. "But I came from underneath the bed like you asked." He whispered.
"Yea...but you still knocked ova the vase, and that's sumthin' bad boys do. So come hea'."
Kentrell wanted to argue, to object, but the words got stuck in his throat and his fear got the best of him. He slowly walked over to the man, who gently cradled his cheek in his large hand, thumb softly brushing over his bottom lip.
The man tugged at his clothes and he silently began to take them off, hearing the ominous sound of a belt buckle coming unlose in the background, that same weird feeling that always came when they did this washing over him. He didn't like the games that his uncle played with him, but he didn't like angering and disappointing the man. So he just sucked up his discomfort.
He was being bad and a fuck up, so he deserved it...right?
~
Even when Kentrell was younger, he didn't exactly know what was going on, but he knew it was wrong. And when he grew older and got a better understanding of what the man had did to him, he was conflicted on what to do. His uncle always hammered it into his head that no one would believe him, and he couldn't help but feel like that was true. His mom would probably slap him in his shit if he told her that his uncle who was also her beloved brother, that had also passed away a couple years prior, had raped and molested him for years.
For so long, no matter how dirty he felt, his brain told him he deserved it, because he disappointed his favorite uncle. So to his young mind, from six years of age up until he was fourteen, the man had every right to do what he did. But as years went by, he grew out of that mentality. There were various ways that you disciplined or got your point across to a child, and the shit that his uncle did to him was not one of them.
So he tried to repress the memories, take back his body and sexual nature. He liked to be in control of what he did with his body, because for several years of his youth, he didn't have the right to. It was liberating to him, to be able to fuck who he wanted, when he wanted, and to be a hundred and ten percent willing to do so. And he was good looking, so it was never hard to find a bitch to fuck on, and later on niggas too when he finally came to terms with who he liked. Being a sexual being made him feel better, and the sex felt good and helped out, but he thought that he had it under control.
Kentrell thought he had a lot of shit under control when in actuality he didn't. Because then again, at his job of all places, he was taken advantage of again. And he thought he had found a way to cope and get through it, but it wasn't doing shit but making him more of a mess, and think about his uncle again as well.
He could never seem to catch a break, his life in shambles and his mental fucked up, all because he felt like he couldn't do anything but keep these incidents to himself. Because really, who was going to believe that the little boy who had such a close relationship with his uncle, was also molested by the same man? And who was going to believe that the grown man, who had sex every chance he could and with anyone willing, had gotten raped by someone at his job?
No one. That's who. Ands that was his fault because he was a fuck up.
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Johnathan absentmindedly mopped the floor of the high school, his headphones in his ears, listening to Gang Unit by 6locc 6a6y, dancing aggresively as he glided across the tile. The mop covered every inch it needed too, the smell of the cleaner strong, but he was too busy crip walking backwards to really care.
He felt eyes looking at him, and turned around to see some students laughing at his antics, and he smiled pausing his music as they made their way over. "What y'all lil ugly asses doin', shouldn't y'all be in class?" He asked, leaning against the mop and looking down at the teens.
"You already know the answer to that. We finna go meet up with some girls from another highschool and hit up the movies." And one boy made a show of lifting his hand up and down near his crotch, letting out small gagging sounds, making the older chuckle and shake his head at the implications.
He smirked, remembering those days when he was younger. "Fast ass lil kids."
"The fastest, we like The Flash or Sonic the Hedgehog with this shit. You ain't finna snitch on us, is you?"
Johnathan waved the teens off. "Ion care what y'all lil bad asses get up to, as far as I'm concerned, I ain't even see y'all leave." And the group of young boys smiled, thanking him for being so cool about them skipping, which he just shrugged at. At the end of the day, they were fucking up their education, and they knew better.
Johnathan thought that they were going to leave after that, so he went to play his music again, but the teenagers continued to stand there and look at him. He raised an eyebrow, a little weirded out, wondering why they were staring so hard. "Wassup?"
"...It's nothin' really." One started, laughing a little. "You just look like this nigga who became the new Biology teacher today. And when I say you look like him, I'm mean like y'all are practically identical."
~
He had been trying not to think about what he had been told, finishing up all of his work for the day, putting up his cleaning supplies in the janitors closet. School had finished about two hours ago, so the halls were quiet as he walked to the faculty lounge to grab a drink from the vending machine before he left, all of his things on his person. The machine always took a while to dispense the drinks, so he hummed to himself, checking his phone to see what his lovers were talking about in the group chat.
He finally got his lemonade and went to take a sip of it, when the door to the lounge opened again, and he was met with a familiar face. And out of habit, his body tensed up.
"Hey Johnathan-"
"Is you stalkin' me or sumthin'? Why is you here?"
"...Well, I do work here now. Am I not allowed to be here?" And Johnathan looked over his father with distaste. He didn't need this right now, he just wanted to leave and go lay up with his boyfriends. Why was this man suddenly popping up in his life again?
Not in the mood to argue he rolled his eyes, going to move around the taller, when the older suddenly moved back and blocked the way to the door. "Is you finna apologize fo' puttin' yo hands on me?" His father asked smartly, looking him up and down. "Ion think the principal would appreciate it knowin' that one of her staff members is quick to put they hands on people. You violent as hell-"
"Thats fuckin' rich comin' from yo ass. Shut the fuck up and get out my way homie. You ain't have no business showin' up to where I stayed at, then disrespectin' my boyfriends, so you got what you deserved." It felt more than satisfying to beat the man up, Johnathan for one thought he deserved it, but he still couldn't help but be wary around his father.
The older stressed him out, he set off things in Johnathan that he didn't like to feel, so that's why he didn't enjoy talking or thinking about him. Because when he did, he had to think about all those years of abuse, all those restless nights of hearing aruging and fighting, all those years of being berated for basically being alive. Unloved, unwanted, uncared for, and there were no good memories he had with his blood parents, especially his father. His mom beated on him too, but at least she wasn't in his face acting like some saint who didn't do anything to him, and chose to stay away after all these years. Last time he heard, she got cleaned up and had a whole other family somewhere far up north.
"You a bitch ass nigga, and you got sum muthafuckin' nerve sayin' that you'll tell the principal on me cuz I beat yo ass that one time, compared to the hundreds of times you beat mine. Talm bout some 'you violent', you ain't seen shit yet Niles. I ain't shoot a nigga in a minute, so you betta leave me the fuck alone before you see what the fuck this pistol can do, since apparently a nigga so muthafuckin' 'violent'." He mocked dramatically.
Niles didn't budge, but looked at him like he was crazy. "Why is you so hostile son, what's with all this hatred? You can't forgive a nigga, I don't even remember clearly what I supposedly did!"
"See, that's why I can't fuck witchu, because you not takin' responsibility for yo muthafuckin' actions nigga! You can't just show up in my life again like shit ain't happen and just expect for me to be cool! It don't work like that, and it don't matter if you don't remember it, it still happened!" Yeah the man had been an alcoholic and drunk off his ass when he beat him, but that was all the time when he was young, and it wasn't a excuse to him.
"So fuck out my way," And Johnathan proceeded to bump the fuck out the older, forcefully moving him, before finally reaching the door and opening it. "And don't bother me, talk to me, look at me, or even breath near me, and we should be all good."
"...You disrespectful as fuck."
He huffed. "Tell me sumthin' I don't know nigga."
Johnathan wore his emotions on his sleeves, so it was obvious that the encounter had bothered him, and the youngest of his lovers could tell when he got back home from work that afternoon. He managed to take a shower and get situated into bed, before Joe began to silently stare at him, and he sighed before caving in and explaining what happened.
"Fuck that bitch ass nigga. You don't owe him any of yo time. And he still need to run me ma one fo' callin' me a faggot and shit." Joe frowned. "I mean, I am one, but he was bein' rude and Ion like that. This fag will bust him alllll in his shit."
"And will." Johnathan muttered, absentmindedly playing with one of the rollers in the smaller lightskin's hair, all while the man laid down on top of him. "In a crop top and all."
Joe gently came up a little, cupping his face in his hands, long and now soft pink colored nails gently touching his cheeks. "You finna be aight baby?"
"No." He said honestly, glancing at a sleeping Kentrell besides him, the brownskin man's face relaxed and so peaceful compared to his usual mug. Johnathan absentmindedly made a note to have a serious talk with the man later; these multiple depression naps that he was taking had him worried. And if Kentrell thought that any of them believed him when he said he was alright, he was mistaken.
"It don't think I've ever hated someone as much as I hate my dad, I like, resent that nigga. If only them people at the school knew that he was a child abuser, than they would have never even thought about hirin' him. But it's whatever." He muttered.
"Again, fuck him." And Joe gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which he tiredly smiled into. His hands rubbed gently at the small lightskin's waist and he breathed a little, taking in his sweet and fruity watermelon scent, which was comforting. He watched as Sheyaa came out the bathroom from his own shower, naked body making a beeline for the bed and tiredly kissing them goodnight, all of them pressing a kiss on a sleeping Kentrells forehead as well.
The taller could just feel that it was going to be another restless night for him, but at least like always, he was in good company thanks to the other three men.
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"I ain't givin' yo ass shit!"
"So I guess you ain't gettin' no special private room dance then, the fuck." Joe said calmly, getting up and fixing his outfit, ready to go. This niggas was wasting his time when he could be making money right now, and he didn't quite like that.
"Why is yo prices so high?"
"Cuz I'm worth it, and ma time is valuable." He simply said. Not on any cocky shit, but Joe knew that he was valuable to this club. He brought in customers which brings in money, which makes Fredricks weird ass happy. And he already had a bunch of other niggas waiting for him to come over to their respective sections, so if this nigga wasn't going to pay the price, then he was out.
The man grabbed his hand as he tried to leave. "So I really can't get no free dance?!"
"Nigga, did you or did you not just hea' what the fuck I said?!" Joe snapped, yanking his arm back with the quickness. "You got point five seconds to get the fuck up out ma face, before this eight inch heel gets shoved up yo narrow ass! Take yo bum ass the fuck home, ain't shit free ova hea', and you ain't even got it like that to be gettin' free dances anyway!"
After that outburst the customer immediately backed down when he saw that the smaller wasn't one to be pushed around, and grumbled to himself, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking off to leave the building. Joe huffed before composing himself, flipping his dreads over his shoulder, and then strutting over to the first section he made plans with.
"Hey Mr. White." He greeted flirtly, and the man smiled warmly at him, diamonds of his grill bright and almost blinding. Michael and his niggas were some of his favorite customers, they were always respectful and he appreciated that, because he didn't have to worry about them being on some fuck shit. The blonde dreadhead smoothly blew out smoke from his blunt, thick white clouds surronding his body.
"Wassup curly top." The older said, the nickname coming from his now signature curly dreads, which were currently a simple black. "You lookin' pretty as always."
"Aww, thank you. I think this color looks really good on me." He smiled, doing a little spin for the men to see, showing off the lavendar colored one piece that had a very deep cut and glimmering sequins in the front, while it was all straps in the back. His heels matched the outfit completely, from the color, down to the shimmery glitter, and the men let out a chorus of approvals of the outfit.
"You good? Saw yo lil ass goin' off on that nigga, almost went over there until I remembered you can handle yoself just fine." Michael muttered, taking a sip of his liquor.
"Seems like I gotta handle shit on ma own most of the time anyway, cuz a certain security guard neva around to do his fuckin' job until shit get serious!" Joe huffed loudly, words directed at a passing Kirk, who was munching on a plate of wings from the bar. The security guard playfully winked at him and he shook his head, smiling at the man fondly.
"But I'm fine, it was just some bum ass nigga tryin' to waste ma time. Niggas really be tryin' it, thinkin' they finna get me fo' free." He muttered, talking a seat on the small table across from the older. Michael hummed, and took a thick band of money out his pocket, calmly handing him bill after bill as they talked.
Joe also liked that he didn't have to do much for the man while working, all he had to do was sit pretty, and the older basically paid him to hangout and talk to them. After that whole fight at the club, and Sheyaa going in and cussing his boss clean the fuck out, he was surpised he still had this job. But here he was, making easy money, and gaining a nice little following while doing so.
They had been talking for a while, through a good couple of songs, and he was about to begrundgingly get up to visit his other sections to continue his night. But then he raised an eyebrow at Michael, who was looking at him with this unreadable expression on his face, his leg bouncing boredly as he leaned back against the couch even further.
"Wazzam?" Joe asked.
"Come 'ere real quick." The man said quitely. "I wanna lap dance, if that's ok with you."
The request was kind of wierd, because Michael had never asked for a dance since he started attending the club, but Joe's knees were already gracefully hitting the ground and falling into his role because this was his job. He crawled towards the man, eyes low and devious, smiling as he finally got close enough to Michael's legs. He forcefully opened them wider, and lifted his body up to slot inbetween the mans thighs, coming close enough to knock foreheads. He looked at the man's brown eyes, which were illuminated by the red and blue club lights, wondering what the man was thinking. And just like clockwork, Michael opened his mouth.
"You need to be careful and watch yo back. Workin' here put's you at risk Bambi."
Joe could feel the mood change though he continued to do his job, sliding to sit in the man's lap, before looping his arms around Michael's neck and coming close to whisper in his ear. "And why is that?"
"Word on the street is that yo boss and his associates are known for snatchin' up people like you. You fit the description perfectly: small, petite, innocent lookin'....I promise he's plottin' on you. Matter fact, he's been lookin' at you all night from his lil section, that's why I'm talkin' to you like this." He said calmly, talking behind his glass before taking a sip of his drink.
"He does seem to like me a lot." He muttered, and while he moved his hips in tight circles against the man, he very much felt distant eyes watching him. It was more than a little wierd how much Fredrick seemed to favor him, but he didn't think the man got down like that.
"Trust me, that's already a bad sign. I know you likin' all the money this job is gettin' you, but I'm just lettin' you know. Either be more careful or maybe find another club to work at."
"...Why are you tellin' me this?" Joe asked quietely. "Ain't you like, business partna's with the nigga?" He wasn't that naive, he knew that all this money Michael had came from somewhere, and it most definitely wasn't gained legally. And he and Fredrick seemed to have some sort of relationship, he just wasn't sure what kind it was.
Michael scoffed. "Newly made business partners, but honestly, I don't fuck with the nigga like that. And Ion get up to the shit he do, I make enough sellin' dope, not people. If you don't believe me, look it up, snoop around. It don't take much to connect the dots."
He would do his own research, but he already believed the older a hundred percent. Joe sighed, feeling a little heavy at the revelation, but put on a smile. "Thanks fo' tellin' me Mikey. I owe you one."
"You don't owe me nuthin' curly. I see how he looks at you, and I just don't want you to end up goin' missin'. Just stay safe for me aight?" And he nodded, giving the man a tight hug.
His boyfriends were not going to like this one bit.
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"You have zero experience workin' as a cashier."
"...Ok." Sheyaa resisted adding a 'and?' to the end of his remark, raising an eyebrow at the job recruiter, wondering why this old white bitch had been giving him such a hard time throughout this interview. "As per my resume, I'm a fast learner, it won't take me long to learn the ropes."
"Hmph. We can't just have any clueless idiot in charge of the register."
Sheyaa ignored the jab. "Well, with the proper training, which I am suppose to recieve because this is a new job and my again astounding ability to learn new things really quickly, I'm sure I'll be fine." He gritted through his teeth.
"You'll barely make it through. This restaurant has standards and an image to uphold-"
"Gurl fuck you." Sheyaa quickly said, losing his professional voice and waving the woman off.
"I beg your pardon?!"
"This ain't no five star restaurant, this is a Mcdonalds! You bein' extra fo' what, talm bout sum, 'this restaurant has standards and an image to uphold', bitch kiss every last stretch mark on ma ass!" He snapped, collecting his things before standing up and going to the entrance of the fast food spot.
He walked out the establishment furious, climbing into his car and promptly throwing a tantrum. It didn't help that he was already on a short fuse; he had already been to two other job interviews today, and bombed the fuck outta them as well. This shit was not working out for him, why was getting a job so hard?
Sheyaa would like to think that he was a hard worker, but an official job was something he never had. He always got his money in other ways, whether that be hustling, or entertaining a rich nigga for a check. And honestly, he was so use to getting money as a sugar baby, he was kind of use to the lifestyle. And he knew it was kind of brattish of him to think so...but he didn't want to give up being spoiled and showered with gifts and money, and he especially didn't feel like working.
But even if he wanted another sugar daddy, he was in a relationship, with three other niggas. How would that even work out? He doubted that Joe, Kentrell, and especially Johnathan would go for it. Look what happened with the first one he had, they were stuck in a motel because of Radric, and now the other three were the main breadwinners.
Joe and Kentrell's earnings were going into the house that they would eventually, hopefully buy. Johnathan's paycheck helped out with groceries and other small stuff that they currently needed, as well as renting a storage unit to hold all their other shit, because they couldn't fit it in the motel room if they tried. And Sheyaa had a small amount of funds, but Radric being the dick head that he was took his safe where most of his money was at, so he had resorted to selling some of his expensive shit online to make money at the moment.
He was trying his best to help put in and provide, but he couldn't help but feel like it wasn't doing much.
~
Sheyaa had made it back to the motel a little dejected, but changed out of his interview clothes and washed up before grabbing Kentrell's shitty ass laptop, and going to look up more job opportunities. He had been at it for an hour or two, when he was side tracked by youtube videos, seeing sugar baby and onlyfans tips which he spent a good minute watching. It drew him in, was much more interesting than trying to work in a office, and slowly but surely got him thinking some more.
"What the fuck bruh." He kissed his teeth at how slow the laptop was, probably filled with all kinds of viruses from the porn Kentrell watched. Sheyaa sighed, grabbing his phone and going for the door, ass numb from sitting on it for so long and wanting some fresh air.
It was a chill afternoon, and he stood against the wall, the coolness of the shade feeling nice on his skin. He was on instagram for a couple of minutes, looking at mukbang videos, when he got a facetime call.
He answered it, smiling when it went through. "Jojoooo."
"Baby boyyyyy." Johnathan mimicked him and he cheesed harder at the man through the screen. "Whatchu up to baby? How the interviews go?"
He pouted. "Fuckin' bad....Imma be honest, Ion think a nine to five or flippin' burgers is fo' me Jo."
The tall hummed. "So whatchu thinkin' bout doin'?" He asked, taking a bite out of his sub sandwhich.
"...Well, I'm not sure yet, but I'll talk to y'all about it when all y'all come home tonight."
"In our cute lil motel room." Johnathan said sarcastically, and they both laughed. "I'm glad you cleaned that room up when we first got there cuz..."
"I really couldn't help it, all motel and hotels rooms are dirty underneath the surface, cuz room service really don't be cleanin' up like they suppose to." They were staying there for a while, so inbetween going to interviews, he deep cleaned the whole room because he wasn't going to sleep on bed sheets that possibly had nut stains on it because they weren't changed out.
"What we finna have fo' dinner? I'm starvin', and I'm tied of eatin' out." Sheyaa complained. He wasn't the healthiest person on the planet, but constantly eating fast food made him want to eat a salad or something.
Johnathan hummed. "I'll figure sumthin' out-"
There was suddenly the sound of a door slamming open, and Sheyaa's head snapped to his right, to see some little nigga rushing out a room a couple doors down from their own. He was lightskin, tiny, long messy dreads, looking anxious and jumpy. They made eye contact, and he jumped a little when the man rushed him.
"Uh Jo, Imma call you back." Sheyaa quickly, ending the facetime call, only to end up being face to face with this random nigga.
"P-Please, you gotta help me, before he comes back!" The man quickly said, shaking frantically.
"Huh-"
"Please, please just hid me! As soon as I can I'll be out yo hair, but he should be back soon, and if he finds out that I got out-"
Sheyaa didn't need to hear anymore, and did the first thing that came to mind, quickly ushering the small and young looking man into his room. He peeked his head out to look and see if anyone saw him, glad that the parking lot was damn near empty, and closed and locked the door.
"I ain't gotta worry bout you tryin' to steal from me or anythang do I?" He asked. "Cuz I won't hesitate to beat yo ass."
"Oh my god, no!" The lightskin snapped, currently pacing back and forth in front of the television. "I just gotta lay low, then dip when the coast is clear. And if a nigga with wild ass dreads come knockin' on the door, say you ain't see me."
"...Aight." He muttered, curiously looking over the smaller. The skin on his arms and thighs were littered with purple looking dots and small scratches, and he looked drain and tired, but still on high alert. His clothes were torn and dirty, and he smelled a little sour, but other than that, he was cute. A cute little junkie.
"C-Can I take a shower and shit please?"
"Go head lil bruh." And Sheyaa gave him two spare towels, a wash cloth, and toothbrush they had, before watching him go to the bathroom and close the door.
He mind silently raced, wondering what the fuck was going on.
~
Sheyaa had been dozing off on the bed, tired and the sounds from the tv the perfect background noise, when the lightskin exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hair and another wrapped around his body. He looked cleaner and ten times better than before, eyes a bit more calmer. The brownskin man opened his mouth to say something, when the door to the room busted open, and in walked his lovers.
"Hey y'all." He boredly greeted them, watching them all stop in their tracks, and he had never seen Johnathan's face turn so sour so quick before. Which honest to god confused him, until he remember this little nigga, who none of them knew, was in nothing but a towel in their room.
And they had been the only people in said room.
"Who the fuck is this and why he in our room?!On school yard crip, on everythang that I love you got me fucked up-"
The smallest in the room ignored Johnathan going off, eyes widening and quickly cutting him short. "Kentrell?"
The man in question raised his eyebrow, squinting his eyes to get a closer look at the smaller. "Nick?"
"Huh? Y'all know each other?" Joe asked increduously looking between the two men suspiciously. "...And ain't you the lil nigga that was in Garrett's motel room?"
"Garrett? As in the nigga from yo job, who be tryin' to get at you Garrett?" Sheyaa asked in disbelief, Nick's comment about a nigga with 'wild ass dreads' now making more sense to him.
"Holup, holupppp. Can someone please explain what the fuck is goin' on, before I start actin' crazy?" Johnathan asked, and Sheyaa sighed.
This was going to be another long ass night.
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watchu think?
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