Page 2 of Kentrell

Star snorted. Loud.

“Oh hey, Star,” Raven said breathlessly, trying to sit up but failing halfway.

“Mmhmm,” Star hummed, handing me the blunt with a little roll of her eyes.

“What happened to lil Miss Pussy Popper? I thought you said you wore niggas out.”

I hit the blunt, glancing down at Raven.

“I ain’t know he was gon’ do me like this,” Raven mumbled.

That made me grin. Wide.

“Yeah, now you know!” Star echoed, grinning as she grabbed a handful of Raven’s ass, squeezing each cheek before sliding two fingers between them. She spread Raven open without hesitation, exposing her creamy, wet slit.

Star never claimed a label, but everybody knew she played with whoever she wanted—men, women, both.

“This muhfucka wet and creamy,” she moaned, sliding her fingers inside Raven with slow strokes. Raven wiggled her hips and let out a soft moan, clearly loving the attention.

“I swear, I wish I had a dick so I could fuck,” Star said, eyes locked on the way her fingers disappeared inside the girl.

She was always saying off-the-wall shit, and I still found myself staring likewhat the fuck?

“Fuck is you talm’bout?” I asked, shaking my head.

Star just smirked, pulled her fingers from Raven’s pussy, and stuck them straight into her mouth, sucking slow like she was tasting icing.

“I’m saying—” she said between licks. “Okay, water!” She smacked her lips like she just discovered some rare flavor, then looked at me.

“I just wanna know what that shit feel like.”

“You got a pussy. How it feel whenyougettin’ fucked?” I asked, straight-faced.

“Ugh! Yo ass—!” Star cracked up, falling against my side. “Shut the fuck up, Kentrell!”

“I get whatchu saying, Star,” Raven chimed in as I dragged the smoke deep into my lungs, tuning both of they goofy asses out. They was comparing notes—whose pussy did what—and I couldn’t care less.

Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I saw Kensei had been blowing me up. Texts, missed calls, back to back.

Lil bruh was throwing a party tonight for the grand opening of his store at the Apex downtown. Pride hit me heavy—real heavy. That boy was the only thing I ever protected right. He wasn’t like me or Wani. Didn’t come up hard like we did.

But it wasn’tjustme shielding him from the streets that kept him clean. Kensei came into this world with a different spirit. I peeped it the day Daddy brought him home from the hospital, Reese still doped up in the passenger seat. That baby had soft eyes. A quietness in his soul that didn’t belong anywhere near the life I ended up trapped in.

He already had two strikes: a daddy that pimped hoes for a living, and a mama barely old enough to vote, strung out and tossed away by her own people.

I ain’t the type to pat myself on the back, butif I hadn’t stepped in?Kensei would've been another statistic.

My phone lit up again, this time with his name. I answered on the first ring.

“Aye, where you at? Why you ain’t been answering your phone?” Kensei’s voice hit me like a burst of static—fast,pressed, agitated. I could hear the chaos in the background, the shuffle of feet, the bass of speakers, voices clashing in motion.

He was nervous. That kind of nerves that come when something big is on the line and you feel it in your chest.

But Kensei had it. He always had it. The vision. The hands. The talent to not just design clothes—but to build statements. Make peoplefeelsomething through the stitch.

“Kensei Sensei,” I said, letting a slow smirk play across my lips. My tone was low, steady. Calm enough to anchor him. “You know I wouldn’t miss this shit for the world.”

I stood up and grabbed my shirt.

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