Arnais’ eyes rolled, an automatic reflex when it came to Desmond’s antics. He reached for his glass before shaking his head. "I highly doubt it, Adalia couldn't handle my mother's truth and went stupid, stupid. I almost put my foot down on her throat when she ended up pregnant. Other then that, Italy was good to me. I finished school, started up a business with my mother, had a shorty holding me down for a minute; shit was peaches n’ cream.” The male’s attention moved from the scotch to his old friend, sighing in the process. “Yeah man, I was going through a lot, I mean we both were. Everyone in my life was seen as a enemy or just a straight up burden; including you. For that, I am sorry ‘cause you didn’t deserve the way I treated ya. Well most of the time you didn’t, but how was it in the VA? ”
"I wasn’t sweating it at first but I got worried after a while. Figured you didn't want to hear from me since we didn't leave off on the best terms so I decided to let you walk your path without disturbance." He admitted as he set his glass down for a refill. "Me? “ Arnais lightly scoffed. “A couple of weeks after you disappeared my mother got out of the hospital. She had this big revelation and next thing I know me and my little sister packing up and saying adios to America. We spent some time in Calabria, Italy before settling in Florence.”
A deepened chuckle emitted from Arnais’ set as he gave the bartender a polite nod before collecting his scotch off the countertop. “Yup and I look good if I do say so myself but the years didn't neglect you either, old friend. Finally grew into that head of yours, I didn’t even recognize ya.” He brought the rim of the glass to his lips, chugging the dark liquor down with ease. “What have you been up to? Swore ya just evaporated into thin air all them years back.”
Gliding into the establishment, Arnais’ green irises scanned his surrounding before he quickly found a spot next to Desmond. The passing years made it is easy for him not to recognize the figure as he greeted the bartender with a gentle smile before ordering a scotch on the rocks. Soon, he looked over at the male, his orbs briefly observing him before another smile broke out on his lips. “Long time no see, nigga. Out here with a whole ass beard, on ya grown man shit.”
Stepping out of the house, Arnais immediately spotted Marcelo on the stairs. He lowered himself next to the male, gazing up at the night sky. "You wanna bust my shit open, I ain't gon' stop ya. If that helps you clear your head, it’s all gravy. I just came outchea’ for you to talk to me, bredda. I spoke my peace,it wasn’t the right time, and I apologize for that, but it’s your turn. Lay it out thick because we both know holding all this shit in isn’t doing you any good.”
There was something about Arnais that gave him the state of mind far from others and placed in rough situations like this only brought great satisfaction. Sometimes he truly believed he could adopt the persona of a sadist and merely jump back to what society deemed a functional human being. His heartbeat didn’t skip nor did a shudder run down his spine as Marcelo pointed the barrel of his own gun at his skull. The action actually could’ve made him laugh in more of a mocking manner, but he decided to keep quiet, watching the scene play out in front of him like a five dollar movie at AMC on Tuesday. It wasn’t the first time he had a gun to the dome, Arnais only wished Marcelo chitter chatter would end before the yawn representing his boredom he was holding back escaped. Unquestionably, that would set the erratic male off to the point he would act on his threat. Arnais certainly wasn't fazed by death, but he wasn't selfish enough to take Aiyana with him. Once Marcelo disappeared from the home, the male's hues sweeped to his aunt. "You and Aiyana keep yourself in the house, I’ll go get this nigga.” He uttered before trailing Marcelo’s footsteps.
Arnais’ mental must’ve taken a barbaric turn without him knowing because a victorious smirk appeared when Marcelo’s gave his blessing, his aunt’s protest only rolling off his back. The topic of murder being tossed around like a hot potatoe with Aiyana backing him up only made the smirk expand until Marcelo’s outburst smacked the smug look off his face while leaving the women around them petrified. A dark chuckle emitted from his duo as he hopped off the counter and gazed at the male, his hazel irises blazing with devilment. Threats weren’t something he took lightly and the pent up antipathy from dropping everything to drag Marcelo back home after his flagrant vacation still stirred around like a ninja blender. Now, him and his ex-girlfriend’s carelessness was cutting into his business and Arnais was seeing red. ”Oh, I’m shakin’ in my Yeezys. Try to treat me like a fish and watch me turn into Big Mouth Billy Bass, gonna be lotta singing before I hit the fuckin’ dirt and that’s if I don’t take your ass with me. Try some shit nigga, we both know I don’t got nothing to lose and a whole lot that I could air the fuck out. Man Shit, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were still laying back with Zyla’s clit on yuh tongue; can’t decide if you want shorty died or not. It doesn’t matter, baby girl gonna get her justice rather you like it or not. She probably got a price on her head as we speak. Jump on the main line and pray to Jesus Zyla is better at dodging bullets than she was at hiding that baby.” He maliciously retorted, hinting towards Marcelo’s situation down in Florida.
After killing the engine, Arnais stepped out of the foreign ride and made his way into his auntie’s home. Following the chatter, he appeared inside the kitchen just in time to catch his aunt voicing her concern for Marcelo’s new baby mama. “Fuck how she feel. Can’t waste a bullets, more like a cutlass for this hea foul shit and it’ll be well deserved.” The male interjected as he detached the P226 on his hip, setting it down on the island before gathering his auntie in his arms and kissing her cheek. His attention shifted to Marcelo, placing himself on the counter across from him. “Just give me the green light Celo, I got Papa Tommy’s whole westside crew on speed dial. Can round di family up and queng di wull a dem by suppa. Aint nada.” Although his tone came off lighthearted, his mind was jumping to the only solution for problems he knew. Whether it was Zyla or everyone involved in this secret, Arnais didn't mind getting his hands dirty. While he pitied the hell Marcelo was about to go through with his father, the male had his own anger towards the predicament his cousin was in. With TMZ on his tail, Marcelo couldn’t make deliveries meaning Arnais would be losing money. That left a sour taste in his mouth and itch in his trigger finger.
Happy V -day, bobblehead! You know I had to come up with something special for my special gyal. Call it part two of my apolgy I also made us reservations at Patina for dinner Friday at eight, so I’ll see you then.
Love, Arnais.
Venus Et Fleur Eternity Roses
Li Lac Chocolates French Assortment
Souvenir Bag Xs Graffiti
An all paid weekend (Next Friday thru Sunday) vacation at Montage in Beverly Hills for you and two friends
Includes:
Hollywood Suite
Brunch at THE CAFÉ
Perfect 10 Spa Package at Spa Montage
Dinner reservations at THE RESTAURANT
Chauffer w/ $70,000 spending money for Rodeo Drive.
Arnais felt the panic begin like a cluster of spark plugs in his abdomen as he listen to the endless ringing. No answer. The thoughts accelerated inside his head, replaying the scenario of Marcelo on life support. “Fuck! These niggas gonna drive me insane!” He wailed, moving about the parking lot like there was a hurricane inside of him. He commenced towards hitting the speed dial for Marcelo’s siblings, but Arnais knew the lashing his cousin was in for if word got back to either one of his parents. Approaching his vehicle, the male stopped to contemplate his next move. With no other option, he climbed into the driverside, preparing to make the three hour drive to Las Vegas and going from there. As he pulled out the parking spot, he tried to contact Marcelo again.
After reading his cousin’s text, Arnais tried to focus back on the new posts appearing on his feed but the unsettling disquietude gnawing at his being wouldn't let up. Soon he lost control of his limbs, fidgeting to the point he shook his sister out of her slumber. "I gotta handle some business, stay here with auntie Parisa and text me if momma comes to her senses." He sputtered before jolting out of the waiting room and towards the revolving doors as pressed his phone against his ear, calling Marcelo.
Scrutinizing the incoming texts, Arnais' inner dialogue began to whisper in his ear that something wasn't right. Dread crept down his spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk as his stomach twisted in knots. He peered at his aunt once more, a urge to alert her of Marcelo's sudden trip ringed in his head. The male sighed. While his intuition never led him astray, he couldn't help but think he was overreacting. Surely, the stress he was under had him even more paranoid than usual. He just knew Marcelo wasn’t foolish enough to fall back to his old conduct; not after everything he had gone through. His finger hesitantly glided against the screen, sending out his next message.
📲 ( @mcrcelo ) : You right, must be something in the air that got everyone going crazy. Just be safe out there and don’t do anything stupid. I love you foo’!
Although his mother showed no signs of permanent damage in her arms, doctors were forced to sedate her when she woke up screaming for her deceased husband as she ripped her IV out. His mother’s outburst was emotionally draining for the both of them, but his sister insisted on staying until Ava wake up again. As Adalia slept on his shoulder, Arnais kept himself busy with his phone. He scrolled through his Instagram feed, coming across Marcelo’s post. The male’s brows furrowed together as he scanned over his cousin’s location. “The fuck is this nigga doing in Las Vegas?” He mumbled, peeking over at his aunt lounging in the chair nearby before glancing back down at his phone and sending Marcelo a quick text.
📲 ( @mcrcelo ) : Yo! You good? Why you all the way in Sin City?
After replying to Desmond’s text, Arnais attention moved back to his whiskey glass filled with a mixture of soda and alcohol as he leaned on the railing of the deck. He drowned down the liquid with ease, watching the rhythmic percussion of waves on sand.
“We ever get that glowprincess ‘cause the way I’m feelin’ about my shorty right now; anything goes.
“On a serious note, I’d probably just stick to me myself and I. Although we have our problems, whenever she looks at me it’s as if every ounce of breath is taken from my lungs floating into the air like smoke. Moments like those, I realize while I might not act like it, I truly am a lucky ass man. I don’t believe anyone around here is capable of making me feel like that other than Destiny.”
Once making sure Adalia made it to school, Arnais returned to the modernly styled mansion in Beverly Hills he hadn’t stepped foot in going on two months.
Sorting through the mail left on the kitchen counter, he found a letter from his school. The threat of failure didn’t faze him as he merely scoffed, tossing the envelope in the trash without giving it much thought before searching for some cleaning products. It was almost mid-morning, and the sun that beamed through the window was bright, unshielded by clouds. He used his foot to push the crack door to Ava’s art studio further open, exposing a scene that made him deeply exhale. The studio was completely trashed, but this wasn’t the first time Ava had done this. She would spend days hidden in her studio, the only sign of life was the song she would play over and over again; California Dreamin by The Mamas And The Papas. Then it would happen; the song would finally come to an end, replaced by the sound of Ava’s vehement sobs as she torn the room apart. Arnais would always clean up the mess after caressing his mother until her tears dried up, but he wasn’t there this time, and the song never stopped. Like millions of red flowers blooming, droplets coated the floor creating a path to the unharmed portrait of his father, a blade covered in crimson laying under the easel.
Arnais rolled up his sleeves, placing the bucket in his grasp down before dunking the mop into the bleach water. “Stopped into a church I passed along the way. Well, I got down on my knees, and I pretend to pray.” Arnais started to melodize with Desmond’s favorite tune still playing as he scrubbed his mother’s blood away.
𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖞 30𝖙𝖍, 2019
Arnais sat on the cold stiff plastic chair within the hospital’s lounging room, a soda in his palm as he took small sips at a time. He was attempting to control his tremors, the want for a cigarette being so strong that the urge to simply pull one out and begin smoking in the building was extreme. Adalia reached forward as she noticed his trembling palms, and placed her fingers against his skin. He lowered his head, interlacing his fingers with her’s. She was the only reason his eyes had yet to water because even though she comforted him, she was trembling just as much. He’d gotten a call on Skype the day before his departure from Lake Tahoe while cuddled up next to his girlfriend. The minute he arrived back to Los Angeles, he rushed to the hospital stumbling upon his little sister in a state of shock, blood covered her clothes. She’d been the one to discover Ava laying in a pool of her own gore with two slit wrists.
The doctors had stabilized her, but she had lost a lot of blood, and she may or may not have feeling in her arms once she awakens. Dessalina stomped fiercely across the hospital’s corridor. Her grandmother’s brows raised sadly when she noticed her granddaughter, and she stood still, waiting for her to meet her at the door. When she did, Julissa stepped forward, ready to embrace her but Dessalina made a beeline pass Julissa, stalking towards Arnais. Suddenly, his eyes widened as a brute force slammed against the side of his face, projecting his head sideways. He could feel his cheek stinging, and he soon placed his palm over it as his sister pointed her finger at him. “You useless piece of shit! I’m going to kill you; do you hear me? This is all your fault! You left mum alone with this fucking retarded mute knowing she needs to be watched. Do you even care about this family? I swear you can’t do anything right!" Arnais stomach boiled with such rage that he thought acid had flunked his blood. He could feel the fury as if flames were burning his flesh. With a glare on his face and gritted teeth, he aggressively stood tall, the chair beneath him pushed back slightly with how quickly he had gone to his feet. Everyone gasps in horror as Arnais threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Dessalina’s face, hitting her jaw with such force blood pooled into her mouth. There was a moment of stillness on both sides. If hatred was visible, the air would have been scarlet. Then suddenly movement, so much force in every punch. Dessalina rained blows onto Arnais as if she meant to smash him into the very earth and Arnais did the same. Each didn’t just want the other dead, they wanted them crushed, obliterated, nothing left to bury. It took two of their uncles along with security to pull the duo apart.
"I’ve been filling Desmond’s shoes since you chased Dessaline away. I took care of both our mother and Adalia and still managed to take care of business while you’ve been living your life. I rocked our mother to sleep when she would drink too much or bawl her eyes out wanting to die. I went out to eat with her, I celebrated her birthdays. I played games with Adalia, I helped her with her homework, I talked to her teachers, I went shopping with her and held her hand when she had her first period. I kept this family running, and it mentally killed me. So don’t you ever ask me if I care about this family, because this family has been my fucking life,” Arnais voice quivered at the end, breathless as they hauled him out of the lounging room, his little sister and his grandfather chasing after them.“Sekkle yuhself, bwoy! Dessa is just upset right now. Take your sister to Marcelo’s place so she can get cleaned up, I’ll call you when your mother wakes. ” Sean reasoned, watching as Arnais foot slammed into the nearest chair, causing it to fly across the hall. He wanted to scream at his grandfather’s ignorance. This was a norm for both him and Adalia, worst when there weren’t any eyes to witness how cruel Dessalina could really get. Arnais didn’t put up a fight. Instead, he stormed towards the exit, Adalia following behind.
Usually, Desmond’s silence would provoke an angered storm, but Arnais was tired from his sleepless night. "So I'll take that as you’re not going. Cool, get at me when you done being childish. Enjoy your night" The male spat over his shoulder before going to look for a vacant room.
