Page 63 of Color Me Broken
Juelz wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his head spinning. “Shut up,” he rasped, his voice sounding like broken glass. “Just…shut the fuck up.”
“Nah! I ain’t shuttin’ up,” Sintonio stepped closer, looming over him. “Get up, getcha shit together, and get outcha fuckin’ feelins?—”
Mar cut in before he could finish, pointing at Juelz.“He don’t feel shit cause he coked up all the muthafuckin’ time, it’s yo boy get rid of him!”
Kane hollered, laughing. “C’mon man, that’s yo friend.”
Mar kept going, laying it on thick. “He ain’t shit to me, he don’t mean nothing to me.”
Kane jumped back in.“What he gon’ do? Go back home?”
Mar waved him off.“I don’t give a damn what he does. Send his ass home?—”
Sintonio's voice cracked loud like thunder, silencing the room. “Aye! Dumb-N-Dumber. Cut that shit out!”
The room froze. The laughter died instantly. Mar and Kane went still, the humor evaporating from their faces.
“This ain’t the time to be quoting no fuckin’ Denzel. This shit ain’t no joke.” Sintonio hissed, his chest heaving as he glared at Kane and Mar.“This muthafucka in here snortin’ powda, fuckin’ random bitches, and y’all joking.” He looked at each of them. “This shit is real. Do y’all hear me? It’sreal, my nigga.”
Juelz let out a slow, broken laugh from the sectional. “Y’all talkin’ bout me like I ain’t here,” he said hoarsely. “Like I’m invisible or some shit.”
He used the side of the sectional to haul himself up, his movements uncoordinated and jerky. He wiped the spit off his chin with the back of his hand. “Tasha moved on. She done with me, nigga.”
“Jue, sit down, man,” Mar said, stepping forward, trying to help him. “You high nigga, you not yourself right now.”
“You right! I ain't myself?” Juelz roared, his body snapping like a high-tension wire. He lunged toward the coffee table, kicking it with all his might. The glass shattered everywhere. A deafening crack rippled through the penthouse, the shards catching the expensive lighting like falling diamonds before hitting the floor in a cold, jagged mess.
“I’m the coked-up muthafucka. Right?” He shouted, spinning in a frantic, disjointed circle. His eyes were blown wide, searching for an enemy that was already inside him. “Right, Kane? Nah! I’m the nigga that protected her ass! And for what? So she can be all in another nigga face. Like what I did for her didn’t matta.”
He began to pace, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps. He looked like a caged animal looking for a way out. Any way out.
“If I can’t have that girl back?” Juelz shook his head, his eyes wide with tears. “I—I might as well just end it right here. Fuck it!”
He sprinted. Colliding with the sliding doors, fumbling with the lock, then sliding them open. The cold air rushed into the stale room, but Juelz didn’t care. His adrenaline was too high. He ran straight for the railing.
“Jue, wha-wha what you doin’?” Sintonio stuttered, his voice losing its edge, replaced by a sudden, sharp fear. Juelz didn’t answer.
“Juelz! NO!” Mar screamed.
By the time they reached the doorway and out on the balcony, Juelz was already up. He had one leg over the metal railing, twenty stories above the cold pavement of the city. He was leaning out, his shirt billowing in the wind, looking down at the tiny lights below like they were calling his name.
“Whoa… whoa! Wait, Jue! Wait!” Kane yelled, his hands shaking. “C’mon nigga, get down!Get the fuck down!We was just bullshitting.”
“I’m done! Sheon want me no more.” Juelz screamed into the wind, his voice raw with a pain that made the boys freeze. He was sobbing now, but his face was twisted into a manic grin. “Tell Tasha she made me do this shit. You tell her I ain’t cheat with that bitch like that!”
He shifted his weight, his other foot leaving the ground. He hung there, suspended in that thin, cold air where gravity waits for a soul to give up. He wasn’t thinking clearly. The drugs were clouding his brain. All he wanted was for the ache to let up just a little. Just enough to breathe without her name pressing down on his ribs like a ton of bricks. He wanted the hole Tasha left behind to close, just for a second. But it never did.
See, here’s the thing. When shit is going good, we call it love. But let it start to fade away, and suddenly it ain’t just a feeling no more. We realize that it was a crucial organ needed to live. Losing Tasha felt like someone reached inside his body and ripped out the parts that made him human, then told him to keep on breathing as if nothing happened. But how can you breathe when your oxygen is standing on the other side of a closed door? Or across the table, eating brunch with anotherman. Juelz was looking for a way out of the pain, but the only way out… was down.
“Juelz, look at me, Gawddamnit!” Sintonio stepped closer to him, his voice trembling, breaking at the edges. “Lo-lo look man. This ain't about her. Don't let that white shit make this choice for you.” Sintonio stepped even closer, his hand outstretched. “Listen, Jue. If you go over that ledge, nigga? That’s it. Ain’t no comin’ back from that. C’mon, Jue… get down.”
Juelz stopped, his body swaying over the drop, the city lights below blurring into the distance. He turned his head slowly, his face was soaked with sweat and tears.
He looked like a man who had already seen the bottom.
“I’m already dead, man,” Juelz told him. His words shocked Sintonio. The raw honesty in them hit him like a physical blow. “I’ve been dead since the day her ass left me standin’ on that sidewalk.”
“Aye! Don’t do that! Don’t talk like that!” Sintonio moved fast, sweat trickled down his spine.
