Political Statement | NBA YOUNGBOY

Chapter 56

Chapter 56

KENTRELL

"Iyannah.." I let out a loud sigh. We was on our third argument for the day. I'm so done.

"What" she snapped.

"I can't do this shit." I fessed up.

She sat up looking at me. "Fuck you mean?"

"We argue every fucking day. I'm tired of this shit."
"Yhu need ta getcho shit n get out."

"Why? You trippin ova arguments?! Nigga all relationships argue!"

"Not every fuckin day."

"You jus trynna get back wit dat lil girl." She got bitter.

"Yeah. Yhu kno how I feel about ha. Yhu ruined wat I had. Not me."

"Nigga what? You know you actually cheated right? I just told her."
"She's never going to want you back so why end this and be so stupid?"

"Youn know dat"

"De'sean, she's getting married!" I got quiet. I know she don't want him though so her getting married didn't mean shit to me.

"If you break it off I'm not coming back this time."
"I did you a favor breaking it off with her"

"No yhu didn't"

"Yes I did! You're fucking stupid! Can't even see a girl that's good for you if your life depended on it yo" she started pushing me, making me sit up on the bed. She was right. I fucked up something that was so good.

"I did. But I fucked it up because of you." She looked so hurt. I don't like how I'm hurting her. But she won't listen.

"Ok Kentrell." I could hear her voice crack. She got up.

"Yaya, I'm sorry. Imma always have love for yhu, but this shit too toxic."

"Fuck that. If you really loved me you would've never did this shit!"

"I'm not trynna argue I jus want chu to leave." I told her.

"It's sad how delusional you are! She's never going to want you! And you want to end a good thing because of her!" She yelled at me, crying.

"Mane, It's more den dat. All we do is argue. This shit will neva be like it used to and yhu keep holdin on." I rubbed my face with my hands in frustration.
"We both hurtin Yaya. Dis shit ain't good."

"That's why we're healing each other."

"Mane, dis shit ain healin"
"Yhu be so angry all da time," I told her. I watched her cry in front of me.

"It's because of you! You make me angry! I'm not angry for no reason!" She sobbed. I felt so bad.

"I kno. N I'm sorry Yaya."
"Commere." I pulled her to me, hugging her.
"Imma always have love for yhu. But we betta off friends." I held her as she cried on my shoulder.

"I understand." She sat up.

"I already talked to ya pops. He willing fa yhu ta come home. Long as yhu clear that shit up on da internet." I referred to how people think Yaya is pregnant.
"N I agree."

She got up, not responding.
"I'll get my stuff tomorrow. Bye." Was all she said before putting on her shoes, grabbing her keys & purse leaving.

| A WEEK LATER |
REIN POV

Today, I'm hanging out with my mom going wedding dress shopping. I was looking at this one dress in the mirror. Glaring at it. I hated it, but my mom wanted me to wear it. I tried my best to make myself like it. But the harder I looked at it, the more I hated it.

My mom was thumbing away on her phone. "Mmm, look at what I've been getting notifications about all day," her tone was salty.

She handed me the phone. I glanced at it and saw a post about Kentrell and Iyanna. It explained their breakup, revealing that Iyanna confessed she wasn't pregnant and had lied. There was even a clip of Kentrell apologizing to me. I haven't thought about Kentrell in a while. Every time his memory resurfaced, I forced myself to focus on something else. Even though I miss him, he's not even worth it anymore.

"Don't go running to him just because he makes a synthetic apology." She said to me.

"You don't have to worry about anything. I'm getting married." I told her handing her back her phone, pushing it away, and started to think about this ugly dress.

"I'm just saying. You and I both know-" I cut her off before she could finish.

"Mom, I appreciate your concern, but this is my life, my decision," I said firmly.

"Mom, I need you to stop insulting me. I'm an adult now, and I can handle my decisions," I asserted, my voice steady. "You don't need to worry; I won't be going back to Kentrell. We're over, and I've moved on."

"Clearly," I referred to myself in a wedding dress about to get married to another man.

I looked back at the dress in the mirror, my determination growing. "And speaking of choices, I hate this dress. I'm not wearing this just because you like it."

My mom's expression tightened, her disapproval clear, but I held my ground. With that, I stepped out of the dress, ready to find something else that I liked.