Addicted
Rachel has been in the toughest and worst life to struggle with. But as a girl, she was still alive to continue and not give up to do better.
Philadelphia was the city she lived in since a year. Rumors and dangers happen around. Especially...
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It was late afternoon by the time the girls headed back home. The sun had dropped lower, casting long shadows over the streets of South Philly, while the hum of the city slowly quieted into something more still.
They were walking through the neighborhood again, the same cracked sidewalks, the same old faces sitting on porches. The familiar chaos had its charm.
"I don't even know if I got a love interest right now," Honey said casually as they strolled. "Like, I don't really got anyone. What about you?" She smirked, nudging Rachel's arm. "I know you don't keep secrets from me."
Rachel gave a lazy shrug. "Same girl, same story."
Honey laughed. Rachel was finally loosening up, looking more like herself again. After weeks of studio sessions and sleepless nights recording her album, a break like this was overdue.
"Yo! Aye, girls!"
They looked up to see James jogging up to them. He was dressed in a long blue shirt, a black cap tilted on his head, and cargo pants tucked into high-top sneakers.
"Hey James." Honey greeted, giving him a quick hug. He turned to Rachel with a grin.
"You always got that same face," he teased. "Tough like you own the block."
Rachel scoffed, smiling slightly. "You good?"
James nodded, hands on his hips. "Yeah. Just been chillin' with Frank—man got a big-ass TV. We just finished watching this action flick. Real old-school."
Honey chuckled. "How's it going with Michael? You two still tight?"
James scratched the back of his head, slipping his cap back down. "He's... in his own world right now. Still cool with him, but Mike be movin' different lately."
Honey nodded. "Been hearing things. You know how it goes around here. Rumors fly before truth even wakes up."
As they kept walking, the streetlights began to flicker on, casting yellow pools of light onto the sidewalks. The air cooled down. Something about the evening felt... off.
Rachel was quiet, glancing around out of habit—until her eyes landed on a group by a blacked-out car across the street.
Them. Again.
Dre and his boys. Posted up like they owned the place. Laughing low, moving slow. Eyes locked on them like they were sizing up prey.
Rachel didn't say anything. Her expression said it all—hard and unreadable.
James followed her gaze and tensed. "Yo. Don't stare too long. I'm serious. You don't want them comin' over."
Rachel didn't flinch.
"I know Mike's in with 'em, but they dangerous. Ain't just stories," James muttered. "Dre don't play fair."
As if on cue, Dre tilted his head, motioning to his guys. They started pushing off the car, making their way toward the group.
"Yeah—nope. We're screwed," James muttered under his breath. "Hope you keepin' that tough girl act up, Rach."
He quickly put on a calm face as they approached.
"Yo, Dre! How you doin', man?" James said coolly, dapping him up. "Mike, what's up?" He gave Michael a casual pat on the shoulder.
Michael just nodded. Silent. Eyes locked.
Dre's eyes flicked to the girls, but lingered long on Rachel. "That the girl you been warnin' Mike about?" He asked, gesturing toward Honey.
Rachel's eyes narrowed slightly, flicking between Dre and Michael—who was just watching her. Still. Intense. His eyes dark like velvet shadows, unreadable.
"That's a real chick," one of the guys behind Dre said with a smirk. "She solid."
Rachel didn't respond. But something about the moment felt twisted—like they'd been watching her longer than she realized.
Dre turned his attention to Honey. "Wassup, Hon?"
Honey immediately rolled her eyes. "Boy, you better quit callin' me that."
Dre just grinned like he owned the street. But then he looked back at Rachel—and this time, his stare changed. There was something smug in it. Calculating.
"Good to have you around, Rachel. Been knowin' you for a minute."
Rachel's jaw clenched slightly. She'd only been living here for a year. She didn't remember ever meeting Dre before. And she definitely never talked to Michael.
But Michael's stare hadn't moved. Still locked. Still silent. Still sharp.
She finally looked away.
"Ight, man," James said quickly, trying to cut the tension. He gave Dre another dap. "We gotta bounce."
"Cool." Dre nodded, and just like that, the guys turned and walked off—Michael last to move, his stare still burning in Rachel's mind as he walked away without a word.
Rachel watched him go.
"Damn," James muttered. "We were lucky."
Honey exhaled loudly, clearly annoyed. "Does it even matter? What the hell they want with us anyway? They can't do shit."
Rachel raised an eyebrow at Honey—hearing her swear was rare. It never quite fit her clean vibe, which made it even more real when she did.
"Whatever. Let's just go home," Honey said. "Later, James."
"Peace." He replied, giving Rachel a quick high-five before she and Honey kept walking.
Rachel didn't say much on the way back.
But her thoughts were loud.
Something about Michael's stare... didn't feel like danger.
It felt like a warning.
S/T: Pick up the phone baby. I know you're home baby.
