Meet Quavia 'Spida' Richards, a talented, creative, and ambitious female not only content creator but also dancehall artiste on the rise. With her unique style and lyrical prowess, she released a brand new song called 'Exclusive' and didn't stop.
Be...
May 23, THURSDAY 12:45 P.M. 📍STARBUCKS, HALF WAY TREE, KINGSTON•
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QUAVIA AURORA RICHARDS |18 "ˢᴾᴵᴰᴬ"
"Good afternoon, I would like to get a venti strawberry crème Frappuccino with caramel on top and a venti chocolate chip Frappuccino," As I rummage through my purple purse, l pull out $1500 in cash and hand it to the cashier.
The cashier double-checks our order and asks, "Will that be all?"
"Yeah," I said as I closed my purse, the soft click of the clasp echoing through the quiet cafe.
While I continue to wait for our drinks, De'arra stands beside me, her gaze wandering around the room before landing on mine.
"Yuh good?" I ask her which she responds and says, "Yeah man,"
I smile and tuck the receipt into my pocket, and gesture for her to follow me as we make our way to the side where they made the drinks.
De'arra inquires about Duijai who l've been dodging for the past two days, and I feel my heart skip a beat, "So yuh nah call Rajah back?"
I feel a familiar knot form in my stomach, and I hesitate before responding. "No," I respond, trying to sound nonchalant despite the growing unease.
De'arra raises an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "You can't avoid him forever, you know." I sigh, knowing she's right, but unsure of how to confront the situation.
As the barista who worked here approaches with our drinks, handing them over with two straws, I thank him and promptly turn around, heading towards the exit door.
With De'arra following me outside, I get the creepy feeling of being watched, but can't pinpoint anyone's stare.
I shrug it off as mere paranoia, but the feeling persists. De'arra notices my unease and follows my gaze, scanning the crowded street.
'What's wrong?' she asks, her voice low and concerned.
I hesitate, unsure how to explain the eerie sensation. "Just feel like someone's watching me," I admit.
De'arra's expression turns skeptical, but she nods sympathetically. "Come mek we hurry up and go inna the car."
She tugs on my arm, leading me to where I parked my car, but I can't shake the feeling that we're being followed.
Before De'arra and I could reach my car, a van screeches to a halt in front of us, and we're ambushed.
I try to struggle and break free, but the hands are too strong, gripping me like a vice. De'arra's voice is muffled as she's dragged alongside me, her eyes wide with fear.
