Chapter 7-8

“Perfection of perception logics and zones

carrots for rabbits, philosopher stone.

Black matter a day dreams intermission.

Life is a stage show, role plays and improvision 

-Mr. Whyte

Chapter 7

Cinema Wynt

 

“I love you because you love me.” What kind of silly-ass gab was that? Those were Andreni’s words when he put these pair of limited edition Cartiers in front of me. I officially deemed him half mine. I still do share Andreni with himself.

I admire his love for himself. There was several positive changes. He quit smoking, drinking. Everything was coconut this, organic that, healthy as ever. Wait a second now, Cinema. Andreni wasn’t going to see Malichi. No. Now all of a sudden, they’re together—brotherly bonding. Wonder if he will be his best man. Clearly, Cinema, who else? Even when it looked like he had friends, he didn’t. He’d pop bottles with his boys and make bets on silly stuff.

“Bet a band the next car is red that bends the corner.”

“I got a 2 pack that Chinese man’s last name is Chin.”

He would never invite these same boys to personal dinners. He said if they were down and out, he’d rather fund a hotel than let them use the guest room. Oh, Andreni.

Would he buy me a brand new ring? I don’t need it. The ring one buys you defines their perception of your current personality. I want to see who I am to him right now. Am I a white-diamond girl? A canary girl? Or a stunning-pink girl? Am I a brilliant earth-diamond girl or a sapphire-blue girl? Yeah, then its straight to the dealer for a matching Maserati.

Whatever he decides, he can’t go wrong. He has me down packed in his mind. For the most part, he did have me down packed to a teeth. Like he said, “I have three sets of eyes.” That third perception. Tuh. Three Cinema Wynts—two alter egos and me. With all his knowledge of me, his only problem is not addressing the right me at the right time. I’d take blame for his confusion at times.

Andreni truly believe he could read my mind, and he has precisely on several occasions. He said, “If we are on the same frequency, our brain waves will unite and form a controlled  synergy.” At the blink of an eye, he could get all scientific. What I learned was we were always riding the same wavelength. Our eyes could easily flash open in the middle of the night at the same time. Both of us with raging hormones and we got to it.

If I felt him penetrating my mind, from across the room, at the dining table, in a car, or in bed, I’ll send him a false signal. An invisible lie. I need some privacy to keep me with my power. Get out of my head shit. 

He would flat out ask me every morning, “Who are you today?” like he need some type of warning to know how to address me. The first time he posed this question, I was grateful and ready to role-play. I hurried to put on my ‘Splinter 200mph fames’ they give me the stewardess swags. I came and told him, “I’ll be your attendant, attending to any and all requests.”

“No no, baby cakes. Let me show you. I am Andreni, co-owner of 69 Thank You’s. Today I will be a salesman at the Kennel. I will also be an enforcer if need be. Now who are you?”

He became anyone he wanted to be, just like that. Who would he become next? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “Not always looking, but always paying attention”

-David Mr.Self Made Cutz

Chapter 8

Andreni C. Tachyon

 

Kimmy lives in a private house with a second-floor backdoor entrance. The steel spiral stairs does not feel safe. The sensor light got me hot, but I must be cool. I plan on getting her a condo. I was looking into it earlier this week mostly because she told me she is pregnant. We was in Jeffrey when she told me. The lil kid with a brand-new water gun came out of me. I was happy as fuck. Then she said she wanted an abortion. That lil kid had to go inside and do chores. No fun, no bliss when I heard that. You see, I didn’t want her to have my kid—never was a goal of mine. However, I didn’t want her to trash my child if she was already pregnant. I’m up what we worried about.

She would have pushed out a lil sauce dripping genius. I had never been against abortion, but definitely not for one when it came to my own—mine needed a shot at life. Cinema never got pregnant. We never officially tried or not tried. Its deeper the being super fertile. The chemistry gotta be right. That’s just my belief.

 

I could appreciate Cinema’s genes. She know how to keep a secret, how to find a secret, how to talk business, and how to keep a business alive. She know how to fit in and how to vanish at will—a street-smart sweetheart and product of New York City at its best.

 

Kimmy had one key to one door. This ain’t the hood. Her place smells like her. Anytime of any day, any part of Kimmy smell like this soft, peachy, delicious fragrance. And I love that shit. This looks normal. I had been inside once before. Nothing looks unusual. I change my tiptoe to a regular step. What’s there to be afraid of? I am  not a burglar, just concerned about my future child’s mother.

Kitchen is clear. Fruits on table. Stove clock read 2:32am. Bedroom. Pink. Small. Satin sheets plush how a nice twenty-seven-year-old would have it. 

Did she have more bullets in here? More guns in one of her night stand draws? I see a phone charger that doesn’t match her phone—Android shit. I don’t even know what I am looking for. Mali forced his paranoia on me. On top her nightstand has a book, remote, glasses case. I walk off the bedroom carpet to the hallways’ wood floor. A grainy crunch I feel under my loafers. Not too sure what fell or broke. I don’t know where this glass came from. Fish tank maybe? When I last looked, it was still there. Oh, but what is that? A crumpled business card floats on the topless tank. Damping my fingertips I cure my curiosity. It read:

Special Agent Jacob B. Tilden

Federal Bureau of Investigation

I shake my head. I feel things—bad things. Kimmy knows nothing about me, but what about her? I am ready to leave. I came here just to find—

Oh god!…OH SHIT!

There she is.

SHIT!

I don’t need to check if she is dead because it was pretty damn blatant. Bathroom floor. Bra and jeans. Knife in her gut. Another in her trachea. Who the fuck killed Kimmy?!?!

Don’t panic, Dreni. Let’s just go.

 

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