~ Chapter 35: Better  ~

[ Justin’s POV: ]

When I returned to my hotel suite, it was now evening. I was more tired than I thought and I couldn’t wait to sit down and distract myself with anything—just to get my horrible thoughts out of my head. But when I walked in and shut the door, the familiar yet strange smell hit me instantly and upon turning around, I saw Lil Twist laid back on the couch smoking a blunt with someone next to him. The room was foggy as fuck due to all the smoking, but I could tell the person next to Twist wasn’t Za.

“Bieber!” Twist greeted me, a smirk on his face. I was about to punch the smile off of him when the man next to Twist spoke up.

“Canuck, how have you been?!” the man giggled, putting his feet up on the table. I slowly began to recognize his voice and when I saw his face, it hit me.

“Jama?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

Yeah, he offered me a blunt in Klutzer’s birthday party but that doesn’t mean he’s invited to everything now. I barely know the fucker.

“Twist invited me. He needed a smoke,” he shrugged. I immediately shifted my gaze towards Twist, who was still smirking.

“You son of a bitch…” I growled.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s gotten into you?” Twist raised a hand up in defense.

“Why the fuck would you invite someone over to a place that’s not even yours. Hell, it’s not even mine, technically!” I yelled.

“I knew you had to be coming back, why would I leave?” Twist scoffed. I paused, licking my lips and trying to calm down before I did something I won’t regret now, but later I might.

“Where’s Za?” I changed the subject.

“Gone,” Twist took a drag out of the cigar before blowing out more puffs of air. “He left to shit his pants.”

This motherfucker’s too high for this shit.

“Canuck,” Jama called out. I slowly turned to face him. “You going to the party for Khalil or what?”

“I said I might,” I scratched the back of my head, “Now I’m not so sure.”

“Why not?” Twist butted in.

I sighed, crossing my arms before glancing at the two. “So it’d be me, you, Jama and Za?” They both nodded. “Alright, one out of four.”

Twist scoffed again. “Do we really have to do the whole ‘one out of’ however the fuck amount of people are going at once?”

“Twist, one of us has to stay sober. You know that. The reason we made it up is so we can maneuver ourselves in and out of parties safely. Who’s going to be that one?” I asked before taking a small pause, “I think it’s your turn.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve been looking forward to this party, I’m not gonna stay sober and take care of your drunk asses.”

“You have to follow the rule,” I reminded him. “It’s the bro code.”

“Fuck the bro code. Why don’t you stay sober for once?”

“Me? Me stay sober for once? Bitch, what about you?!” I yelled.

“Guys…” Jama warned, trying to break off the argument.

But Twist just took another drag from his blunt and looked at me. “What about me?”

“You’re either drunk or high, or drunk and high. How about none? You’re going to end up killing yourself, Twist!”

“Fuck outta here.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I gritted my teeth, just about done with his bullshit.

“I could say the same for you, buddy,” he shot me a glare, raising his middle finger up at me.

“Guys,” Jama repeated.

“—Get out,” I stared right into Twist’s eyes. He raised his eyebrows and merely shrugged at me. “Did you fucking hear what I just said to you? Are your ears working okay? Is my mouth working? Get your ass out of your ears and listen to me.”

“We both know you don’t mean it,” he cockily smirked again, blowing out more smoke into the room.

“Does it look like I’m playing mind games with you?” I snarled. “Huh? Get your lazy ass off my couch and go run around the neighborhood waiting ’til the bitches hop on your dick, you sick bastard.”

“Leave me the fuck alone, you depressed son of a bitch,” he spat, not moving a single inch. My heart sank and I swallowed hard.

So what if I really am depressed? Why would he use that to insult me? That’s nothing to be joking about so openly. What if it’s a touchy subject?

“Don’t make me manually kick you out, man,” I lowered my voice so he knew I was serious. “I want you out. I do. It’s not one of those jokes this time man, I sincerely want you out of here. If I have to look at your face for five more seconds, I think I’ll have to throw up so get the fuck out of my suite.”

“I said no, you anorexic twat,” he hissed.

I lost it.

I stormed over towards where he sat and violently grabbed him by the arm, flinging him across the room and, of course, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. I bent down and straddled him, trapping him to the ground as I began to lay punches across his face repeatedly. Within every punch, I hit harder. And with every hit, I drew blood. I became addicted. I wanted to see him spill more and more blood.

“Canuck!” Jama yelled, rushing towards the fight scene. He grabbed me from behind and tried to drag me off of Twist but I elbowed him away. Unfortunately, that was a distraction enough for Twist to gain an upper hand, and he grabbed me and flipped me over so that I was the one that was now trapped. He punched me everywhere. My stomach, my face, my chest, arms and neck. I could feel the pain shooting throughout me, but I couldn’t gain the strength to fight his grip. I was trapped.

Jama tried breaking up the fight once more and this time, Twist was too focused on punching me to react to Jama in time. After Jama successfully lifted Twist off of me, all I could see was Twist’s eyes on me, full of anger.

“Go rot in hell, you man whore,” he gathered up spit inside his mouth and, before I knew it, he spat straight at me. I was disgusted but I couldn’t move, so I just laid there on the floor, bleeding slightly from the blows.

“Take it easy, nigga,” Jama scolded his friend, slapping him hard in his arm.

But I knew exactly what Twist implied there. He called me a man whore because of getting that bimbo pregnant. Because he’s the only one besides Scooter who knows the truth.

I wanted to cry. I was done with acting tough and pretending it was all okay. But I didn’t have any tears left to shed, so I was back to laying still. I could hear Jama and Twist arguing about something I couldn’t quite understand, until Twist stomped off and left the hotel suite. I heard Jama let out a sigh and he left the room, only to come back with a paper towel and he bent down next to me and wiped Twist’s spit off me before folding it and wiping excess blood.

“Can you move?” he asked me, trying to lift me and get me to sit up. My muscles were in pain, but I noticed that if I actually tried hard enough, I can move.

“Yeah..” I murmured, slowly standing up with Jama’s help.

“Geez, Canuck,” he scoffed, “I’m sorry this happened to ya. I don’t even know what’s going on inside Twist’s brain.”

“You can call me Justin, you know,” I said, plopping down on the couch and leaning back, even though it slightly hurt.

“I try to call people by the nicknames they were given,” he sat down next to me, “But if you prefer ‘Justin’ then I’ll call you that once in a while.”

I forced a chuckle, laying a hand on my bruised arm. Jama picked up a new blunt and lit it up before grabbing his old one.

“You seem like you’ve had a rough day,” he commented, glancing at me. “Try to let loose a little, yeah?”

I looked at him, eyeing the blunt in his hand. He was reaching it out towards me, offering it as if it was some sort of treat of the day.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to smoke with you.”

Jama’s eyebrow raised. “Why not? What’s wrong with me?”

“It’s not you specifically, I just don’t want to smoke.”

“Really? You don’t want to feel all that stress in your shoulders being lifted by the second? You don’t want to be care-free for once? You don’t want to look at the world and think I don’t give a fuck what you say about me? ‘Cause it’s the best feeling in the world, my friend.”

I eyed the cigar once more before looking into Jama’s eyes. All the things he’s said sounds so promising. Too good to be true. To just not give a fuck? Hell, it’d do anything to achieve that. I’d do anything to relieve the pain inside me. The emotional and physical pain.

He stared solemnly at me, his lips shut tight. He showed me he was serious.

I let out a small groan and snatched the blunt from his hand, raising my lips to the tip and taking a drag. I puffed out smoke and began coughing, before sniffling and wiping my nose.

“Better?” Jama asked, before blowing out smoke in my direction.

I inhaled the air and laughed. “Better.”

*****************************

Surprise chapter! Yay!

Even though shit’s getting real, hope you guys enjoyed it! ;)

- Nina xx