Kendrick Lamar, Aubrey Graham, and Jermaine Cole

Part 1 (Only Part)

Kendrick Lamar had just released his last diss track; Not Like Us. Drake had been getting on Kedrick's nerves for years now, and the recent drama between them had just ignited the fire of passion between them... Kendrick just wanted to show that smug bitch who the better rapper was. Drake, acting all superior with his mansions and grammys. Meet The Grahams had completely out-performed Family Matters, and Kendrick's soon thereafter release of Not Like Us had only cemented him further as the victor of the rap battle. The beef had been settled.

Tentatively, Kendrick pulled out his phone and navigated to Drake's phone number. The phone dialed and Kendrick waited. Had he gone too far? What if Drake had actually done something. Kendrick's heart suddenly dropped. He had told Drake to kill himself, but he didn't expect him to take it seriously. In his angsty stupor, Kendrick almost dropped his phone from shock as Drake picked up and his silky-smooth voice began to transmit through the speaker.

"Hello? K.Dot? That diss-track was mean, dude." Drake almost sounded disappointed, like a mother chastising a disobedient child. A muffled sniffle could be softly heard and Kendrick quickly pieced the story together,

"I'm so sorry, Drakey-poo. Don't do anything you regret, okay?" Kendrick whispered into the microphone, his voice trembling as tears threatened to pour onto his face. Why had he published those tracks? Even now, he could imagine how much those cruel words had hurt his precious champagnepapi.

"I love you, K.Dot. More than anything in the world. Come to Los Angeles with me,.." Drake trailed off, his voice in a resigned yet optimistic tone. He really did love Kendrick. The two had been working together for years, well acquainted colleagues in the rap sphere. Those words and the rap beef? Those were just a fragile facade the two put on to maintain their heterosexuality. But now, in this moment of vulnerability, Drake's true feelings had come out and their denial could be put at ease. Of course Kendrick would reciprocate.

"I love you too, my honeypie pook. You have a mansion in L.A., right? Let me stop by for a bit. We can do whatever we want..." Kendrick's words were laden with desire. The tension between the two was almost palpable through the phone. Neither of them had expected something like this, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise.

—

Two days later, Kendrick had arrived in L.A. He had brought only a carry-on suitcase; Drake said he would accommodate. As the cab that Kendrick had caught neared Drake's luxurious mansion, Kendrick's heart began to doki-doki. He could feel it beating out of his chest in anticipation. The great front gates of the mansion opened and Kendrick saw... J.Cole? What was he doing here?

Kendrick exited the cab, tipping the driver a hefty amount for his work, before walking over to J.Cole who was standing at the base of the mansion's front door. Kendrick slapped J.Cole on the face suddenly.

"That's for dissing me!" With a smooth move that took J.Cole off his feet, Kendrick picked up the rapper and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips, softly caressing his chiseled jaw. "And that's for apologizing..."

"T-Thanks, K Dizzie... Drake invited me out here so... the Big Three are back together again!" J.Cole blushed as he stood back up onto his feet, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as he avoided eye contact with the shorter rapper.

"Speak of the Devil!" Kendrick laughed as he stepped back and the glamorously dressed Aubrey Grahams stepped out of his mansion. Kendrick and J.Cole could only stare in awe at the grown-ass superhero in front of them.Drake put his muscled hand out and Kendrick and J.Cole instinctively placed their hands on top of his.

"On three. One. Two. Three–" Drake instructed, slowly counting. On three, all three of them yelled at once.

"Big Three!" They shouted, fists raised in the air in triumph. The three giggled happily, all semblance of a beef that may have once stood between them completely squashed.

"Alright team, let's head inside." Drake commanded, cheekily grabbing a handful of cheek from the other two as they walked, Kendrick on Drake's left and J.Cole on Drake's right.

As a group, the trio entered Drake's master chambers, crossing the threshold between their fragile friendship and facade of a rivalry. Drake's bedchambers were pristine. The warmed tiles were on the border of sparkling cleanliness and the silky carpet that lay at the foot of his bed was woven of only quality pelt. A bedgown lay dormant on Drake's beautifully made bed. Drake undid Kendrick's and J.Cole's belt simultaneously with rather suspiciously practiced movements. Drake dropped his boxers too and Kendrick whistled, impressed. Then it was J.Cole's and Kendrick's turn, and they, in unison, pulled down their own boxers.

"And that, chat, is why they call us the Big Three!" Drake said giddily with his mischievous grin. The lights dimmed and all three of them winked at the same time.