[center][img]https://www.gannett-cdn.com/-mm-/a66b8a58a040b6a738afd625adac950d26703bfd/c=0-0-999-562/local/-/media/2018/05/18/USATODAY/usatsports/ap_magic_nets_basketball.jpg?width=580&height=326&fit=crop[/img]

[h3]“I…”[/h3][/center]

This town was small. Well, relatively, anyway. Small enough for someone to be able to know like the back of their hand. Amadeus knew these streets too well. Yet, he could never feel more lost than he did right now. He didn’t know where to go or what he should do, so, he went to the only place where everything made sense: Sterlin Styles. 

He was in the upstairs apartment of the establishment. After his pops went down, the other employees had taken over to keep the name going for Deus’ sake and out of respect for his Dad. Earle Jackson, a family friend known as “Smokey”, was out of town for a couple of days. He asked Deus to watch the place while he was gone. As of right now, the young man was situated in a swivel chair, with a hand at his forehead. He only turned on the light above the stove in the kitchen, but otherwise sat in the relative dark of the living room. All he could do was reflect. 

It was kinda sad, considering that this was the only time he even came down here all week. He used to visit often, but as basketball season began, he came less and less. It made him feel a little guilty, but that was the least of his issues.

He felt his phone vibrating multiple times in his pocket, but he didn’t even look at it. It was probably his friends trying to get his attention, but guilt wouldn’t let him answer. How could he? He kept this from his closest friends for as long as they all knew each other. How could he talk to them with a secret like this? Not only was it dramatic, but it was a game changer. 

Amadeus was the one that did it. The website wasn’t just a lie. The knowledge of that alone was eating him alive. Who could have known about this? It couldn’t have been just some conspiracy. Did the Devil run this site? Trying to make his life a living hell? Because if this wasn’t it…

What if little Deena asked about this? What would Amadeus tell her? Confronting it through social media platforms was inevitable. What if his Aunt Marsha caught wind of all that? What would she think? That was her only sister. Their only mother. Amadeus had her life on his hands.

He felt like he was sitting here for hours, sulking. His phone kept buzzing, and he pulled it out to turn the vibrate off. Though, as he did, he noticed the notifications from his friends. They were pretty much begging for him to tell them where he was. He stared at the screen for a little while, before he tapped one of them at random. In the chat, he typed the address quite simply: 

223 Frederick Drive. Upstairs.

~~

After hearing a couple of knocks on the door, Amadeus wiped any liquid still lingering on his face away with a napkin. He didn’t answer it, but, it wasn’t locked either. So, when they were coming in, he crumpled up the napkin, and threw it across the room, probably a little harder than he meant to. Still, faithful to his reputation, the paper crashed right into the garbage can without a chance of missing.

His hair hung down in his face, casting a shadow over his eyes from the light. He didn’t hug Bernie back when she came over to squeeze him. His teeth grit in his mouth quietly, suppressing a cringe, both out of emotion, and some pain. Likely more of the former than the latter.

Silence hung in the air for a while, Amadeus taking some time to calm his breathing down. After forever, finally, he spoke. 

[color=8882be]“I…”[/color] His voice hitched initially, but he sighed, pausing. [color=8882be]“I should’ve said something…”[/color] The athlete broke the ice. [color=8882be]“I know I should’ve said something…”

“I just…”[/color]