If I come home to find my house smelling like weed one more time…especially when he knows that I cannot stand that smell. And no he does not have all his friends up in here too! Hell, you would think that any guy in his early 20s would want to be working, making his own money and a name for himself. But when you have a dad like Frankie’s, I guess your only worry is when the trust fund money is going to run out.
“Frankie!!!” I yell throughout our condo. Yeah, even though I work 20 hours a week along with going to school, Frankie and I needed that trust fund money to buy us a place.
“Frankie?!!” That’s when I hear the sound of laughter coming from our den. I follow the sound only to find my boyfriend and four of his friends smoking weed and playing video games.
“Frankie, I know you heard me calling you. What have told you about smoking that shit inside the house?” I irritably exclaim. Then this fool has the nerve to give me that lopsided grin of his, and that’s when I know that what I just said went through one ear and out the other.
“Hi baby, how was your day? Assholes, say what’s up to my woman!”
His boys and I exchange mumbled hellos while I look around to see that my den is a hot mess. Rolling papers and swisher residue cover my coffee table, soda cans”without coasters”cover the table too, pizza boxes are on the floor and is that a bong? I need his friends to leave because I’m about to get real ethnic in here.
“Frankie,” I seethe, “Can I talk to you for a second?”
A chorus of “oohs” follows him as he approaches me. Frankie throws them the finger and follows me into the kitchen.
“What’s up girl?” He says grinning at me.
“What’s up?! Look at my goddamn house and you’ll see what’s up! What have you done all day? Just sit here and kill brain cells? And you know how much I hate the smell of that shit, would it kill you to just smoke outside?” I rant angrily, my hands and arms waving madly.
“Do you know how sexy you are when you yell at me?” He whispers to me while licking his lips.
Smacking him upside his head, I yell “Are you serious right now?!! Frankie, I come home after a long day to a messy house and your lazy ass, and all you're thinking about is sex right now?” I have had enough for today and it’s time for his boys to go.
Heading back toward my den, I grab the remote and turn the TV off; receiving a series of “boos” and “what the fucks” in response.
“It’s time for ya’ll to go…NOW!”
These dudes know me and they know that I don’t need to tell them twice. Quickly grabbing their shit, all four of them dip out of our condo, giving Frankie clipped goodbyes as they run out the door. Locking the door, I turn around to see my boyfriend glaring at me.
“Don’t look at me like that Frankie, I’m out working and going to school…the least you could do is keep the house clean and”“
“You’re a whiny, fucking bitch you know that?”
Hold up…what the hell did he just say to me? “Excuse me?”
“Me and my boys were up in here having damn good time before you came home and started bitchin’, fuckin’ ruining my high and shit.”
Yeah, he must be stoned out of his mind talking to me like that after all the shit I do for him.
“Fuck you Frankie,” I say, my voice trembling a bit. I can’t even be in the same room as him so I go upstairs to the bedroom, slamming the door for effect and locking it. I lay down on the bed as tears stream down my cheeks. I don’t even know why I’m upset because it’s not like the way he talks to me is anything new. Ironically, his filthy mouth is how we first met.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
And even though I wish I could, I obviously don't own Justin Timberlake.
And even though I wish I could, I obviously don't own Justin Timberlake.
Author's Chapter Notes:
This took me 1249732573253532 years to write (haha), so I hope you guys like it! And positive and constructive criticism is love!
Story Tags: frankie
