Aurora Hill is an up-and-coming R'n'B singer/dancer who also happens to be part of a rapper Ja Rule's entourage.
Aurora is sweet and kind but with a wild side to her, you don't want to cross this girl for real, if you know what's good for you that i...
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"Goddammit, Em!!" Paul paces the room back and forth, continuously pinching the bridge of his nose on pure exasperation, his eyes darting around, repeatedly landing where both me and my girl is seated, but I note that he refuses to look directly at me in his anger.
Something tells me that if he actually did, the fat fucker would wanna fight me or some shit.
She looks that pissed right now.
Hostile energy radiating from him in waves, my manager continues to pace the room.
"I mean, how could you be so stupid, Marshall?! Reckless too! You have seriously outdone yourself this time, and that's saying a lot! And Aurora," he then turns towards my girl whose body tenses against mine and I grab her hand, my fingers brushing against hers and squeezing them reassuringly.
"I've seriously expected better from you, Aurora," Paul huffs out, pure disappointment lacing the harshness of his voice.
"Yo, leave her out of this!" I blurt out. "She ain't even do shit. She didn't pull the trigger, I did."
Paul stops pacing and finally stares at where I'm sitting.
All three of us currently locked in at my office in my LA home, this little personal space that none of my security or other staff is allowed to enter unless authorized.
"Ah, that's real adorable how you want to protect your mate, Marshall, but excuse me if I don't have the time right now to humor that. CAUSE I'M TOO BUST TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW EXACTLY AM I GOING TO GET YOU OUT OF THIS BLOODY GODDAMN MESS YOU'VE GOTTEN YOURSELF IN!!" Paul practically yells the last part of his sentence, spit flying everywhere, and looking like he's on the verge of a stoke or a heart attack or both.
And I gotta admit, in any other situation, I would've found this shit, my manager losing his marbles like that, funny as fuck.
Hell, a part of me still finds it funny as fuck.
Despite of me knowing damn well just how gravely this situation is.
I mean, that cocksucker Ja, he's fresh out of surgery right now, according to Paul's sources. The doctors have managed to remove the bullet lodged into his skull, but the fucker is still to regain consciousness though.
And hopefully he never would.
But if he does, and if he talks. If he tells the fucking cops that I've been the one that's fucking shot him..
"YOU COULD BE GOING AWAY FOR A VERY LONG TIME FOR THIS, MARSHALL!!" Paul continues to yell. "YOU DO REALIZE THAT, DON'T YOU, YOU INSUFFERABLE MORON?! IF JA RULE TELLS THE POLICE THAT YOU WERE THE ONE THAT SHOT HIM, THEN IT'S AN ATTENPTED MURDER CHARGE. THE PROCECUTOR MIGHT EVEN PUSH FOR A PREMEDITATED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS, OR DO I NEED TO DRAW A PICTURE FOR YOU, KID?!"
