He stood up, the bag heavy on his shoulder.
“I was lost,” Marcus continued. “Didn’t cry at the funeral. Didn’t eat for three days. Just walked around with this thing in my chest—hot, sharp, like swallowed glass. Then one night, I’m in my boy’s Civic, and ‘Put It On Me’ comes on. You remember that one?” ja rule pain is love tattoo
“Ja Rule wasn’t lying,” he said. “Pain can be love. But that’s not a flex. That’s a warning sign.” He stood up, the bag heavy on his shoulder