[LIVE EDITING. CORRECTING ERRORS].

So, I was in a pretty verbally abusive relationship, and was in a deep depression. And I lost my ability to focus on stories, to read stories and worst of all, to write them. I'm out of it and way better now and I got my mojo back. Or at least it's creeping back slowly. I have 10 chapters ready in total for all my stories, but I wanted to post this one first to test the waters, see if the reaction is good.

So, support me if you can please <3. Voting and commenting are things I love.

https://youtu.be/LfRNRymrv9k

Ashley

This wasn't the first time a gun had been pointed in my face.

But usually, it was either Kenzie threatening to pop my faggot ass during an argument, Kenzie drunk or high (or some hellish combination of both) or, well, some guy trying to rob me. But usually Kenzie was there to save the day. Not this time.

My big brother, who at the current time, I was just realizing may be my Savior – disturbing thought – was not here to protect his little brother.

I've never stared down the barrel of a gun before. But in this parking lot, dark, stony, with the rush of silence zig zagging across the creaks and spaces in between the cars, made me focus on just that. And I waited.

He spoke. "I told yo brother to stay off my land, but it don't seem like he's gonna listen." The gun cocked. "Nothing against you, but blood needs to be spilled here."

I thought of running. The exit wasn't far.

I also thought of dying by a single bullet. And dying of 20 in my back. I chose the former.

So, I close my eyes and accept my fate. I wait and I wait and I wait.

Until there is a roar of running feet and my eyes reopened.

It's not the gang. They are looking around, pointing their pistols in every which direction, trying to find out where the feet are coming from. Until they find them coming through the door into the building.

A gaggle of men in black suits with pistols in their hands. And Reece stood in the center of them.

He adjusted his tie, gave me a look and then the men. "This is private property and you're trespassing. Unless we're doing a segment on horrible street fashion at 9."

The leader laughed, but his gun slipped to his side, and the others followed suit. "We'll be seeing you fools around," he proclaimed as they got into the cars.

I sighed and turned for the door. Reece caught up and slowed me to a stop with a hand on my shoulder. "Should I call the cops?"

I shook my head. "What good would that do?" I asked him. "Let it go."

"He almost killed you and you want me to let it go?" Reece asked, eyes narrow. "Call your brother at least."

I took his hand off of my shoulder. "So he could go and try to kill some guys, get himself killed in the process or worse, land himself in prison with a life sentence?"

Reece closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly and reopened them. "A gun was pointed in your face, Ashley."

"It wasn't the first time, Reece," I said. "I grew up in a neighborhood where guns were as prevalent as candy. I'm okay, you're okay. Everything worked itself out."

He huffed. "Fine. So, maybe this interview can still happen then."

I narrowed my eyes. "What interview?"

"Mother wants us to do an interview on national TV with Marie Luther."

I snorted. "You're crazy. You're all crazy."

"It's just a small little thing," he said.

"A small little thing in front of millions of people?" I shot back. "Try selling your candy to someone else, Reece."

He folded his arms over his chest. "We're doing the interview, Ashley," he said. "It doesn't matter how upset you get, how much you stomp your feet about it. You and I are doing the interview." He smirked. "Don't pretend that you don't like a controlling man."

I gawked at him. In total disbelief. "Do you read?" I asked him.

He stared back, blinked, fixed his tie and rolled his eyes. "Of course I read." He shrugged. "When I have to."

"You know what I hate about some novels? "I asked him, not waiting for him to respond. "I hate the trope that an abusive man is a good man," I barked, steely and cold. I could taste the iron on my tongue; I felt the burn of the fire in my stomach, the blood rushing to my eyes. "I am not something to be commanded, this isn't the 50's or Fifty Shades of Grey for that matter. If you want me to do something, you ask, I evaluate it, ponder, ask what's in it for me and then make a clear decision."

"Is everything going to be a race issue with you?" he asked. "Nothing I'm saying has anything to do with your race. I'm your boss, it was a directive, not a command."

"So like, did they not teach synonyms in your elementary school?"

He ran his hand through his hair, inched his nose and his face reddened. "Can you be a little fucking grateful?" he asked. "I just saved your life. A white man saved a black man's life!"

"Do you think Abraham Lincoln said that to the slaves he released or?"

"Jesus Hebert Christ," Reece barked at me. "Just do this okay? And you get to do your job, be engaged to a hot piece of ass and live happy. And do I have to remind you that we have to distract the media from the fact that a woman just died at my house?"

I had the urge to keep arguing. To punch him, to grab him by the dick (ask later) and to say 'fuck off' in every possible language.

But the Martin Luther King in me defeated the Malcolm X and I decided to do this peacefully, if not just for Erika's sake. "I am not going to argue anymore," I said. "If we are going to do this, we will do it on my terms."
He nodded. "Anything you want."

"Primetime Reporting," I said.

"You're crazy," he sneered. "No way will my board agree to that."

"You're the CEO, get it done. That's the deal."

Reece Red pouted. "Ugh. Fine."

I smirked. "You see, compromise."

But then he smirked for some weird reason. "Yeah, compromise."

Reece

"This will not end well," Anna said, pacing back and forth in her Givenchy dress. "These...people are up to something."

"These people?" Lola asked, clipboard in her hand as the makeup artist got me ready for the interview.

Anna stopped pacing for a second to gawk at Lola, hand on her hips. "Not black people, it's just a coincidence they are all black. I mean this Ashley kid comes out of nowhere, steals my job and then my boyfriend and now I have to look like I agree with all of this."

"You sound like the police," Lola said, before handing me a sheet of paper.

I didn't look at them. "What are these?"

"The questions you will be asked tonight by Marie Luther," Momma said, bursting into the room like a damn bat out of Hell. She threw her (real) fur coat to the side and her glasses to the right before pointing at a random makeup artist to pick them both up.

"Do I have to remind my son how important this interview is?" she asked. "Marie Luther has 15 million people watching her on a regular basis and with all this promotional advertisement I spent money on, 20 will be."

"I'll be ready, Queen of Hell," I said with an eye roll. "Keep your horns on."

"These horns will be rammed up your loose anal cavity if you don't get this right," she warned.

"I reject the notion that I will fuck this up," I answered.

"But not the loose butthole part?" Mom came back with, snorting. She looked at Anna. "I don't know what you think you're losing honey, but a good man ain't it." She turned to Lola, "Make sure he's ready Miss Lola."

"I will, Ma'am," Lola said.

"Try," Mom said. "You can bring the gay horse to the water, but you can't make him repent for his homosexual ways to get into Heaven now can you?"

"I don't think that's how that saying goes," I remarked as Anna Elise guffawed in the back and Lola nodded her head in agreement with my bitchy, possibly devil worshiping mother.

Momma pursed her lips and tore her things from the girls' hands. "It does is in New Orleans."

"Well anything goes in South," I snorted.

"You would know about anything going in southern regions, wouldn't you Bareback Reece," she answered back, always having a response to everything launched at her. "I'm going to make sure production is going smoothly. You just stick to the questions and don't forget to smile. You may be an idiot but you're at least a pretty idiot."

I faked an awe and placed a hand on my chest. "You have no idea how much that means coming from you mom. I love you."

She rolled her eyes and exited the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Sometimes I don't know if I like your mother or hate her," Lola commented.

"I love her at the current moment," Anna bit. "She's at least keeping me employed here as your style manager."

"You know I'm not trying to hurt you Anna," I said, as Declan, bestie, walked in wearing a pink polo shirt and gym shorts, with a tennis racket in his hands and a visor on his head. "Did I miss the ceremony?" he asked, laughing like a hyena, a rich one.

"No," Anna said. "I'm gonna barf."

"Stop being so dramatic," Declan said. "He'll still be with you, but just with Ashley for appearances. He's King Henry and your his Queen Anne."

"King Henry chopped off Anne's head," Lola commented.

Declan blinked. "Well then you're the next Queen after Anne."

"He chopped of her head too," she said again. Declan opened his mouth. "He killed all of them," Lola snapped. "Use another metaphor."

"Pass," Dec said and sat beside me. "I've been working on that little problem you have with the other brown skin boy. Dennis? Your Competition as he put it." He spoke at a lower volume. I'm not sure Lola heard him, let alone Anna. "If he gives you anymore problems, let me handle it."

I raised a brow. "How so?"

He patted my shoulder then squeezed, giving me a smile. I was officially sorta freaked out now. "You let me worry about that, brah."

I knocked on the door labeled Ashley in red sharpie and got a muffled response before it opened and I saw Ashley with two women standing over him wearing a black suit, hair gelled up to perfection, his nose ring removed, his eyes especially shining. His jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets. 

"Are you just gonna stare, white boy?" he said and knocked me out of my daze. "It's starting to look a bit zodiac killer-ish."

"You just look really good is all," I said, shaking my head. "Sorry for staring."

He was fixing his cuff, staring half interested at me. He looked down. "You don't have on any pants," he noted.

"NO," I sang. "I hadn't noticed." I stepped into the room and closed the door. "I take a while longer to get ready."

"That a white thing?" he asked.

"A rich thing, actually," I shot back.

He almost smirked at that. "I'm not happy about this," he made note of.

"I'm just loving it," I retorted. "Best thing to happen to me since my first wet dream."

"You can pretend I'm not the hottest thing you've ever been with all you want," Ashley said, straight face, jaw clenched and carved. "But you and I both know I am."

"That is yet to be seen," I said. "How are you with whips and chains?"

He stopped playing with his cuffs and glared. "I don't do well with constraints," he answered.

I leaned against the table and smirked. "You should let me put you in chains one of these days," I said. "You might start to miss me after."

His eyebrows arched. "The only time I ever miss a boy is when he ducks when I try to knock him out," he said, brushing passed me.

I found myself chuckling at it. Then coughing my throat clear. Woah. That almost felt like playful banter. "Should we go over some of the questions?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked.

"So our stories match?" I snorted.

"How about this, we go in there, we smile, we nod, we follow each other's lead," he suggested, taking a seat in the chair at the makeup desk. He was reading a text on his phone, frowning a bit, lines shooting across his forehead like stars streaking across a light brown skin sky, with two brown moons hovering below them.

Ashley was beautiful. There was no serious denial of that in my head.

Did I want to fuck him? Stupid. I wanted to mess him up badly. But, Anna. And my mother. Father. What would my friends really think? I mean really? Sure, they'd clap because if there's one thing white people love, it's like feeling we're forward thinkers. Patting ourselves on the back for accepting an interracial couple when we made it taboo in the first place.

"You're staring again," Ashley said again, this time a lot more light and less tense, snaking me out of my daze.

He stared. "Maybe go put on some pants?" he asked. "I'll be waiting."

"Yeah," I chuckled. "I'll do that."

Ashley

I was waiting for Erika to call me. I had texted her at least twelve times, asking her if she was okay, but I couldn't get an answer. I could not get close enough to Lola to ask. Today was busy. Someone was killed at the Red manor, or well, committed suicide, as the news reports put it.

And everyone was reporting on the fact that Reece Red was engaged.

I sighed. Georgiana, the blonde makeup artist rolled her eyes. "It won't be so bad being married to him."

"Won't it?" I said. "I mean he's an egotistical maniac with a chip on his shoulder, money in his pocket and most likely a diseased ridden penis in his thong."

"Well he's the first two things, not sure about the last one," she laughed. "Should ask Anna about that."

"You mean the one who hates my guts for stealing her man?" I snorted. "I'd have better luck asking The Pope."

"You should watch out for her," she said. "Anna won't go quietly into the night, she will fight against the raging light."

"God, can you be any more of a literature nerd?" I barked, playfully.

She smiled as was about to comment, but the door pushed open again and Lola, in her white pants-suit walked in with papers in her hands. "We're all ready," she said.

I nodded, stood and patted Georgie on the shoulder before walking out with Lola.

"It's important to our mission that you look like you're in love," she said. "So, try not to be a snarky asshole?" she asked, as we walked down the hall alone. "Reece is the key. He's the easiest to get information out of to bring down Red."

"What if I don't want him?" I groaned. Like a child that didn't want to do his math homework. "He's an idiot, he thinks he's suave, he probably has eight sexually transmitted infections and I feel like he eats bananas with two hands."

"I'm not saying fall in love with him, I'm saying get information out of him," she said. "He is the CEO."

I stopped. "Fine. What about Erika?" I asked.

She stopped a few steps ahead of me and turned. "Erika is fine. Let's just focus on this right here, right now and deal with that later?"

"You do realize how fishy that sounds right?" I said. "

I know," Lola said. "Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," she said as she started walking again. I followed. "And be careful of Anna."

I snorted. "Why?" I ain't afraid of no low calerie in-taking, model-esque, most likely thinks Taylor Swift is the pinnacle of Feminism, white girl.

"She's smarter than she appears," Lola said. "And she is sniffing that something is off."

"Fine," I huffed. "I won't rock the boat."

She herself nodded and pushed open the double doors that lead into the center news room, where Marie Luther did her primetime news show.

It was bustling with underlings, all running around as the show came together. "ten minutes to show time," one of them said.

Lola directed me to the couch, a long black, leather thing, that Reece sat on the right and I on the left.

Marie Luther, putting on her makeup by herself, smiled, edges of her lips cracking and her forehead transforming into lanes on a highway with all the lines. "Well, didn't expect this at all," she said. Hoarse and rough, a smoker.

"Neither did we," Reece said. "It just happened."

Marie tilted her head upward so she could blow the smoke out, without giving us lung cancer. "I see," she said, as her chin came back down. "Well, time to tell the world. Did you read the questions?" she asked.

"No," Reece said. "I like surprises."

Marie gave a stilted laugh. "You might have wanted to read those."

"Why?" I asked.

"You'll see," she said.

Cameras shifted into place, one angled on Marie, sitting across, and three more, one positioned on me, one on Reece and one the three of us from the side.

"And we're live!" someone shouted and Marie smiled at the camera and spoke.

My eyes shifted to Lola in the background, as she held up two thumbs.

I didn't hear Marie as she spoke, and I wasn't focused until Reece grabbed my hand on the couch and squeezed.

I almost on instinct, threw it off of me, but jolted upward instead and looked at him.

He was smiling back. "I'm just so in love and I would love to tell the world that I am engaged to this beautiful boy next to me."

I smiled and nodded. "Yes, and I'm proud to...be engaged to this handsome young man next to me," I said with a laugh.

Reece massaged my hand and I felt something prickle my spine. I cleared my throat as softly as I could.

"So, shall I ask you two a few questions?" Marie asked, laughing.

"Sure," reece said, "Although I hate where did you meet questions."

"Who's on top in the relationship?" she asked.

Reece's smile fell and my face flushed instantly flushed if the heat was anything to go by.

"W-who?" I stuttered.

Marie nodded. "Who's on top?"

Reece snorted and shifted in his seat. "I'm not sure if Ashley and I understand the question."

Marie Luther, known for her raunchiest that may be better suited for 2 am instead of 8 m, picked up a rubber banana and a rubber donut and proceeded to poke the banana through the donut hole. "The viewers of my fine show, would like to know, who's penis goes into who's rectal cavity."

"You're asking if I fuck him or he fucks me?" I blurted.

Marie smirked. The guy's in the back, the producers, nearly fainted, and Reece barely covered his snicker with a cough. "I'm sorry, I think Ashley here forgot that this is live television."

I blinked. "I'm actually quite aware of that."

Miss Luther laughed. "I'd like to apologize to our sponsors and of course the viewers at home for that, but this is a very honest piece right now and I always enjoy when my guests are as honest as possible."

I almost wish that guy shot me right now.

"To answer your question, I do most of the time," Reece said.

I immediately looked over at him, and he did at me, with this smile plastered on his face. So punchable. "Although I do get a few hard pounds in there sometimes, but Reece isn't really," I slipped up the couch like I was telling her a secret, "Reece has a bit of an unusual bowel problem, so it's just a mess when I'm on top so."

Marie nodded slowly, and looked at Reece, who was in the middle of an existential crisis in his head. 

Lola looked like she was in between a stroke and a seizure in the background.

"Yeah, but Ashley is my little woman," Reece said. "He's a great cook. He supports me. He's the perfect wife. As one of the all-time greatest groups in modern music so eloquently put it, my bitch is bad and boujee."

I stormed out of room, tearing at the stupid mic that was on me, and throwing it to the side. The hallway was emptied out and I was furious. I did the stupid interview. I couldn't believe I put myself through that on television.

I heard the door one and close and I heard the stomps behind me, but I didn't pay attention to it. Showed it no mind. Fuck everyone in this building!

Someone grabbed my arm and threw me against the wall. Back smacking it, chairs rolling to the side.

"What the hell," Reece said, breathing in my face, face red, eyes bleeding. "You could not do this one thing?" he growled angrily. "You gotta be this uncompromising?"

He was dangerously close to me, hands on either side of my head, crotch pressed against my crotch, lips touching mine, just barley, breaths hitting me rough and hard.

I never allowed my eyes to move from his own. "Have you ever watched Deliver Us From Eva?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "What the fuck is that?"

I stood up straighter, to the point that we were the same height. "If standing up for my myself is what makes me UNCOMPROMISING, then I wear it as a badge of honor cause I'm in DAMN GOOD COMPANY! Martin Luther King was uncompromising, Nelson Mandela was uncompromising, and I'm sure your MOTHER was uncompromising, although the evidence of that is not apparent today. So... why don't you think of me as your Mom right now. And Momma says, "fuck off!"

I pushed him out of my way. He grabbed my hand again. I span around.

I swung.

I hit him and my hand cracked.

Reece stumbled back, holding his jaw in his hands. His lip was bleeding. The only color I could see right now. Red. Reece Red. Red In his eyes. On His Lip. Dripping on the floor. I cared not.

I span around. I got into a cab. And I went home.

I stood on my front lawn for thirty minutes, listening to my phone ring a thousand times, from a thousand different people.

My parents were home. I hadn't spoken to my father. I left when he came inside. But he was in there, I knew it. The problem was, had he seen the news? Had he gotten the calls I was getting? Why was I still so afraid of what he thought?

My feet finally decided that it as time to get to work and went inside.

Bridged Over Troubled Water by Aretha Franklin was playing softly in the background like it did whenever Mom and Dad were either fighting or having sex, one usually followed by the other.

There was chicken. I could smell it. Baked. I smelled macaroni and I heard Kenzie laugh and Mom laughed and then.

And then I heard the voice of my father laughing. Crackling and cough-like from his smoking habits.

The lights were on in the kitchen. We didn't' have a dining room, instead the kitchen doubled as both.

My hands were shaking and I didn't' know how to make them stop. My lips couldn't decide if they wanted to shape themselves into a smile or a pout, my eyes were burning and I didn't know if they were tears of joy or what.

My feet wanted to move toward the kitchen, but they were glued to the floor.

My family was in the kitchen. My family was waiting on me in the kitchen.

"Ashley, get yo butt in here boy," I heard Mom say.

"He could never rob houses," I heard Kenzie mutter. "Opening and closing doors so loudly."

I stepped in the kitchen and the light illuminated the room a bright white. Except for my family. The were all wearing red clothing. So I could see them.

"Sit down boy," dad said, biting into a chicken. "I ain't see yuh since I got out yesterday. You hiding from me?"

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"You only speak French now?" he asked. "Sit down and eat some of this here food your mother cooked."

Mom and Kenzie laughed. "Fool," I heard my brother whisper.

My world didn't seem black and white as I took the seat. I, for what seemed like a flicker of a moment saw the hazel of my mother's eyes, the white of my father's smile, the black, the dark brown, the light brown of my family's skin.

And for a single moment, we were alright.

Reece

Anna handed me a piece of tissue to wipe my lip. "I'm telling something isn't right with those people," she said.

We were back in my office. I threw the tissue to the side. I spat out the blood. Kid had a mean ass swing. "I'm not here for your conspiracy theories Anna," I said. "If you want me to believe you, get the proof."

She smirked. "Don't mind if I do."