Hustle.

Chapter 5: Sleepless Nights

> DaJohn "DJ" Scott in MM <

Lauryn P.O.V.

My phone buzzed loudly in my ear, awaking me from my slumber. I looked to see if I had awaken him. He was still snoring, fast asleep. I lurched for my clutch on the floor beside me and quickly picked it up, looking to see who was calling.

>> BestFrandd 👭🔐💓 <<

It was Gigi. But it was 3:20 in the morning.

"Girl!?" she shouted into the receiver as I answered.

"Shhh." I hushed her. "What's up?"

"Where are you? We left like 20 minutes ago and then Keet just asked about you and we realized you weren't here."

"Wow, ya'll just left me here to fend for myself I see," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Bitch! You know I didn't do it intentionally! We're all drunk as hell, DJ can barely drive!"

I laughed. "Chill, I know, I know."

"We can come back for you if you want. But the way DJ is driving, it might just be a little dangerous," she warned.

"Shut the fuck up!" he teased in the background. "I can drive fine!"

I laughed again. DJ already drove really fast and risky, I could only imagine how he drove when he was drunk.

"I'm good, I'll just take the train home tomorrow morning. Text me when you get home."

"You sure?" she asked again.

"Positive," I said, smiling into the phone.

"Love you girl."

"I love you too," I whispered back before hanging up.

After the conversation, I knew I would be wide awake. I tried to get off of him as subtle as possible but, being the clumsy person I am, it was no use.

Once my feet finally touched the floor, I stumbled to walk. My legs and insides were extremely sore, causing me to collapse on the carpet.

I heard a chuckle from behind. "Where you going princess?" I looked up at him. "Did I do that to you?" He was getting some amusement from this. It made me feel weak.

I pouted like a child who didn't get what they wanted. "Don't make that face. I'll carry you." I crossed my arms. He smiled.

"Stoop, with that cute little puppy dog face." He picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I felt my stomach lurch. I have a weak stomach and alcohol definitely triggers my sensitivity.

"Put me down, put me down, put me down!" I shouted, knowing it was coming. Startled, he placed me on the floor.

I stumbled a little but made my way to the bathroom fast enough, switching on the lights in the process.

After I finished hurling up whatever I had in my system, I looked in the mirror. My makeup looked fine but my mascara got messed up a small amount and I had three small hickey marks on my neck. "Toothbrush is in the left drawer!" he called, obviously able to hear me throw up and finish.

I slid open the drawer and sure enough, there was a massive pile of toothbrushes. "I'm guessing he does this often," I thought to myself. This made me question how many girls he slept with. I felt dirty. I wanted a shower.

After brushing my teeth, I went back out. I wanted to leave, feeling disgusted of myself.
"Come lay with me babygirl." I heard his voice.

He was laid up on the bed, watching some sports network on television.

"Uhh..." I stumbled to find words. "I should probably go home," I said, walking over to grab my clothes, clutch, and purse.

He looked at the blinking, digital clock on his bedside table and then back at me. "Are you crazy? It's 3:35," he stated, getting off his bed and walking towards me.

"I'm just gonna wait for the next train to come. I'm a big girl, okay?" I teased, slipping on a heel.

"You're not going anywhere." He picked me up and threw me on the bed, before leaping on top of me. I laughed as he tickled me, not allowing me to get up.

"Stop ... Tickling ... Me ... Please ... Stop ... I ... Hate ... Being ... Tickled!" I said in between giggles.

"Promise me you'll stay and I'll stop." He smirked as I struggled.

"Okay! Okay!" I yelled, out of breath, still laughing.

He stopped and smirked again. "Good." He picked me up and placed me in his lap as we sat watching the sports network.