My boyfriend destroyed my laptop during a verbal fight, so I had to actually rewrite a lot of stuff. (Don't worry, he paid the price for that)  Daily updates should be returning at this point. However, the next chapter will be unlocked when this hits 150 votes OR it does when Sunday midday comes. Either one. After that, 200 votes unlocks the next chapter, or a two day wait in between each chapter. Fair?

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Ashley

"I ain't ready for prison man" Kenzie blurted. "You know what they do to young, sexy thugs like me in prison?"

"Teach you how to properly use the word ain't'?" Lola said, rolling her eyes. "We aren't suspects."

"Yet," Kenzie answered. "Some white woman fell off a rooftop that called us bald birds and you don't think they gonna assume we pushed her?"

"It was suicide," I told him.

We were huddled in the corner by the police cars, while the cops scrambled to talk to party goers before sending them home.

The body was covered by what might have been a yellow bag, by how high grey it looked, but I had no clue. All I could see right now was the splashes of red that made the asphalt glisten and glitter on the ground.

Reece was a bit off from me, hands folded across his suit, his jacket across his shoulder as he spoke to his mother and an officer.

For a split second his eyes looked up and connected with mine and tried a smile, one that could not be returned. Someone just died in front of me. A lady that I had just chewed and spat out earlier. A lady that had just publicly condemned.

I was her murderer, even if didn't push her. My stomach sank a bit. I looked at my hands. A bit of her blood hit me, splashed on me, when I ran over to check and see who it was.

"Erika is already gone," Pete, coming back over said. "I don't know when she left."

"I saw," Lola said. "She told me she was going to leave early to deal with a specific matter."

"More important than this?" Pete snorted, but I waved him off.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked.

"Jail," Kenzie blurted. "I got some boys on the inside though. We could turn that shit into a male Orange Is The New Black, I mean shit, Ashley already a blonde haired woman with a sense of entitlement; he be perfect as Piper."

"Can you just shut the fuck up," Lola said. She looked down at her phone. "Reece just texted me to meet him and his mother on the inside of the house after they are done with the cops."

"Why?" Pete asked.

"They have concluded that either this was a suicide or someone killed her."

"So when did this novel become a murder mystery," Kenzie asked. " I mean first this shit was a story about blacks and whites, then shit turned into a race themed story and now It's about Who Killed Racist White Woman 2k16."

"What is he talking about?" Pete groaned. "You are aware this is actual real life?"

"If this real life then why Ashley look like Reece King?" Kenzie asked, putting his hand in my face. "And why you look like that brother from that sad cancer movie?"

I promptly swatted them away. "Are you high?"

"When ain't I high," he asked. "If you told me I was Drake right now, I'd believe it. I'd go look for my ex and tell her how much I miss her and shit like that. Then do some weird leg-knee slap dance."

"Look, just tell us what is happening from the inside," I said, speaking to Lola, who gave Kenzie one more look of disgust before walking back up the stairs and into the manor.

"You really gonna marry that kid?" Kenzie asked. "He's the real life version to a police sketch of a rich serial wife killer."

"I'm not marrying him," I said. "It's a charade. "It won't last."

"You really don't read these novels," he snorted. "You gonna fall in love with this white boy and then this gonna turn into some Titanic shit with a boat sinking, metaphorically, and then one of y'all dying. Read the writing on the bow of this ship, my nig."

"Kenzie," I placed the car keys in his hands, "go and lie down. Or go driving, I don't give a shit."

He laughed out a snort, screeching, and gaining the attention of the entire yard. "Fine."

While he stumbled away, hugging a cop and then stealing his hat, leading to a chase, Pete sighed and rubbed his forehead. "This is all a lot to deal with."

"You're telling me?" I answered. "I'm ready to tell Erika that I'm backing out of this entire thing."

"You know she won't accept that," Pete noted. "Erika's a smart woman, but her biggest flaw is her inability to give something up she sees as a righteous cause."

"Yeah well, Jesus was a righteous guy too, and they hung him from a cross," I said. "I'll have to talk some sense into her."

"Sense into who?" Reece asked, creeping up on us, seemingly out of nowhere, with his hands behind his back. "Can I talk with Ashley alone?"

"Whom," Pete corrected. He looked over at me, and I nodded my head. "I'll be by the car, if we're allowed to leave."

Reece smiled at me when Pete was gone, but I scoffed that smile off. He tucked his hands into his pocket and rocked on his heel, "I'm pretty sure it's who."

"What do you want?" I spat. "I still don't like you."

He smirked. "That's fine. I'm not all that enthused about this situation either, Lil Wayne."

"Was that a black joke?" I asked, folding my hands across my chest.

Reece placed a hand on his chin and thought for a moment. "Yes."

"God, you're an awful person," I fired back, scrounging my nose, as if he smelt like a hot pile of wet diapers, rather than Calvin Klein cologne. "You're George Bush if George Bush was an even bigger moron."

"I'm also you're husband-to-be, Laura" he laughed. "Well, if we don't go to prison."

"You'd probably enjoy it," I retorted. "All those dicks you get to throw in your mouth, you'd be in Closeted Boy Heaven."

His smile dropped a bit and he moved slightly closer. I did not budge. "I'm openly bisexual. I'm a proud bisexual."

"I think you'd fuck a nest of ants if you could get your head into the hole," I whispered into his lips. "You're an awful person."

"You don't even know me," he spat back.

"God has been good to me then," I returned. "I'm not marrying you."

"I'd divorce you anyway," he said.

A chilly wind passed through the yard and blew me back a bit. "I'd like to divorce your nut-sac from your dick right now."

He raised his hand and I immediately puffed out my chest, waiting for him to even try to swing at me. But all he did was kiss his fingers and then place those fingers on my lips. "Go home, Beautiful. You're gonna need your rest. We have a big day tomorrow."

I moved his hands from my lips and placed it back at his side. "Touch me again, with those hands that were probably up your asshole and I'm going to shove it so far up your ass that you'll be able to hold hands with your disintegrating liver."

Reece smirked. "You're very clever with all these insults." He moved a bit closer. "I can only imagine what you're vows will sound like."

"In the criminal justice system, sexually based offensive are considered especially heinous, in New Yo-"

"Funny," he said, cutting me off and pursing his lips. "You like to pretend you don't find me attractive, but I see in your eyes that you're undressing me."

"I'm adding more clothes," I said. "And I noose around your neck."

Reece

"Where's mother?" I asked Lola, as I stepped back inside our house, exhausted but just overall annoyed by the night. "I could be bathing in pussy right now, instead I'm being questioned by police."

Lola's left eye twitched. "You do realize that someone is dead and they died at your home?"

I shrugged. "Would not be the first damn time."

"What wouldn't be?" Mom, still in her finest clothes asked, fur around her neck, almost as if it were strangling her. "The night my son gets engaged, someone dies."

"I can't wait for the wedding," I said. "Wonder who'll die then?" I asked, looking into her eyes, with a raised brow.

Mother actually chuckled at that. "I don't know what's worse," she said, "your jokes or your ability to actually run this company."

"I am running this company," I spat back at her.

"Name one decision you've made?" she asked. "One that has profound effects on the future of this place?"

And I sat back and thought about it. And I thought about it. And nothing. "I just started."

Mom snorted. "Reece, you are the figurehead. Just read the lines you are given. I'm Stephen Spielberg and you're Angelina Jolie, or a really unconvincing drag impersonation of her."

I folded my arms across my chest. "You really are an uptight asshole, you know that?"

"At least it's tight," she shot back. She looked behind me. "Can't say that for yours now can we, Mr. Versatile?"

Lola snorted and I threw her a look. She shrugged it off. "You have a lot of interviews to do tomorrow, not just about this whole debacle, but about you and Ashley." That is when she turned to Lola. "Lola, I want a primetime live interview with Reece and Ashley set up with the biggest talk show host you can find. They will speak on their relationship and how in love they are."

"This is crazy," I blurted. "We hate each other and I'd rather set fire to my own anus"

"And I wish we would just declare Florida a barren wasteland, since they are so useless, but that's not happening. We don't always get what we want, Reeces Pieces," she said, using my Dad's nickname for me. "Now suck it up like you suck various other things we stirring, gratuitous delight and get over it."

Mom stalked over and Lola stared at me for a few minutes. "Your mom may be the greatest person to ever walk the earth. I think I'm included Jesus in that as well."

"I don't care who my Mom thinks she is," I said. "I'm as sure I'm not doing that interview as sure I am Donald Trump is going to lose this election."

Ashley

I stopped Kenzie before we walked into our house. "Hold off the marriage thing with Dennis, will you?"

"Sure," he said, putting on a pair of shades to had the fact that he was so high his eyes were bleeding red.

As I looked for the keys, instead of waking mom up with the bell, Kenzie rested against the door of our home and started singing some Lil Yachty song. It was awful. "You know, I get why you like sucking man peen."

"And why is that?" I asked, flipping through the keys on my bunch.

"I mean, you can be friends and lovers at the same time. I mean, guys and girls can be friends too, but there is just something about the same sex that makes it better, you know?"

"Sounds like you're kinda gay," I replied.

"Nah," he paused and yanked on one of his braids, trying to stuff it into his mouth. "I ain't even a little bit a fag." I glared at him. He let the braid go "My bad. I know you hate that word. I'm just saaayig, man. You're my brother and I know us black people, especially black bros like us ain't really down with the whole gay thing, but you my little nig and I got yo back until I die in some drive-by shoot out."

"Can you stop saying that?" I told him. "It's stereotypical and you're better than that." I stopped looking for the keys. "You can do a lot of you put your mind to it." He raised a brow. "You're basically owner of a really large drug empire – illegal – but at least it shows you have business savvy. If you could just harness that into something productive, you'd make it far."

"Like a rap career?" he asked. "21 Saaavage," he sung.

"No. Not like that at all." I opened the door and he ran his hands through my hair, before pulling me backwards, nearly throwing me from the porch so he could yell 'FIRST' as he skirted inside of the house.

I had decided to not tell Dennis right away. But, Kenzie with his big, ocean sized mouth blabbered and now Denis was staring at me with well-manicured eyebrows raised. "You're engaged."

It didn't sound like a question. It sounded like he was saying it out loud to himself, testing it on his tongue to see if he liked the taste of it. His face said his mom made it and he had to lie about liking it. "Temporarily," I answered.

"What does that even mean?" he asked, hand clasped together in his well-fitted black stitched sweater and ripped and faded jeans, his normal choice in after work attire. Far from Kenzie's basketball pants and no shirt, with the occasional golden chain.

"It means, it means nothing," I said. "It's a job. Justin and Selena, without the whole actually falling in love thing, since fate is cruel."

"He getting that white boy meat," Kenzie interjected. "He's eating salmon now bro. He ain't going back. Once you go black, you don't go back but once you go white, you stay for the Mercedes."

"That didn't even rhyme," I said.

"Don't make it any less true," Kenzie said. "I need my grillz." He got up. "I'll let you two go through these emotions. Perhaps remind the audience of your previous relationship with some expository back story." He pointed at Harambe on the floor, playing with his tail. "I've told him about your Bae Story, but don't believe me."

With that, Kenzie stumbled away, and up the stairs and Dennis and I were alone again. Not that it was the second or third time. Or 100th.

"Remember when we were teens and I sang that SWV song?" Dennis said, smiling at the memory. "Simpler times." He was leaning forward, just noticed he had in those grillz. His hands were resting on his knees.

"Nothing was simple about us," I said, a bit drier.

A teenage relationship is not like anything anyone will ever encounter.

Especially when that teen relationship is your first love. It's akin to the start of the universe, particles of matter exploding to form something chaotic and tumultuous and burning and steaming. It cools off, but it's still beautiful. Life forms. Things evolve. Birds begin to sing. Things crawl. Flowers bloom. Winds howls and trees sway. There's a beauty in all that madness. It's a cataclysm of emotion that is like a volcano erupting and forming land. Diamonds from rock. Then a meteor plummets and kills everything. Everything withers away. The sun explodes. Life dies and the oxygen becomes toxic. That's what a teenage relationship is.

But Dennis had been a dreamer since I met him and dreaming that one day our relationship would regrow, like earth did after the dinosaurs vanished, or after God went full-on wrathful and flooded everything. But I didn't really have times for those lovely dreams at the moment.

"Are you still coming to my dance?" he asked. "Or is this whole thing you've gotten yourself into going to stop that from happening?"

I frowned. Awfully petty. "I am," I answered. "Front row."

"Good," he said, smiling.

"I have yet to hear from Erika," I said. "Lola said she turned off her cell phone. I've left like thirty messages."

"She's fine, my nig," Kenzie said, crunching through dried cereal, coming down the stairs. "Just chill. She'll show up. Until then, I think you should maybe talk to your soon-to-be husband, because the media is gonna be on that white boy like a Texan on his little sister."

"You're all horrible people," I said as the doorbell rang.

The three of us peered at each other. Shrugged. "Who is visiting us at this hour?"

"I can get my piece," Kenzie said. "I know that brotha threatened Ashley the other day."

"You do that," I huffed and got up to answer it. Dennis trailed behind me, while Kenzie headed back up the steps.

The bell rang against and then there was a frantic knock. Dennis scooted in the front of me and held a hand up toward my chest, so I wouldn't go any further. Then he opened it and gasped.

Erika was standing in the door, covered in something dark red. Blood.