A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Epilogo

Tremaine’s Point of View

“The results are in!” Maury announced. I didn’t bother to see whether Corey was the father of Tonya’s baby or not; time was ticking. I had a deadline to meet, and of course, my procrastination put me in a risky position. But deadline or not, Rocky would be satisfied.

This project was small, anyway. Just a redo of A$AP’s website, in its entirety. The website was becoming a bit old-fashioned and needed improvement. That’s what they had me for. Ever since I enrolled in and graduated from college, I’ve been a graphic designer both independently and for A$AP Worldwide.

I continued to make changes to my final draft of the website to give to the guys’ management. They better be paying me more than they did last time I worked for them—even Rocky thought that I deserved more money than that.

He slumped on the loveseat feet away from me, eyes glued to the television. Even from here though, I could tell he was looking past the TV, beyond it.

“Are you alright?” I asked him. He nodded as if it was a feedback mechanism to hide his emotions. What could be wrong now? I constantly remind him that although our lives aren’t perfect, they’re way better than they used to be. We’re rich, famous, and have homes in almost every state. But yet it seemed like he was never content.

“Stop staring at me like that. I’m fine.” He insisted. I sighed and proceeded to work. If he didn’t want to tell me, he didn’t have to.

The doorbell rang suddenly; I moved to get it but Rocky jogged to it before I got the chance. When it opened, I rolled my eyes and focused more than ever on my work.

Nicole’s Point of View

Rakim opened the door for me and I didn’t even bother to hug him. I could barely wave as I entered the home he had been sharing with Tremaine for the past two years, since they got kicked out of SoHo’s loft. I always knew Miami was hot, but not this hot! Every part of me was literally boiling!

The worst part was that my hair was now damp and frizzy. So much for not going to the hair salon for the next two weeks.

Tremaine and I hugged briskly. It was too hot to be hugging, anyway. “What are you here for?” Rakim asked. It would seem like a harsh question to someone else, but I’ve known him for a while. He’s either in a glum mood or simply wants to know what brings me around.

“There is a bonfire at nine o’ clock, down at our spot by the beach. Get there on time or the smores will be done.” I informed him. He shrugged, his own way of agreeing to something without agreeing to it.

“Will Dom be there?” Tremaine asked me teasingly. Why was she always getting into my business?

“Yes, Dom will be there.” I snapped just as playfully. She always had the idea that I had a crush on Dom—which I don’t.

“Well, that’s all that I came to say. I have to get going; the mall has discounts at my favorite store, and I have to get my hair done.” I said in the midst of a not-so-awkward silence. Rakim saw me off, gentlemanly closing the door behind me after I left. Then I ran down the stairs, heading straight for the nearest bottle of cold water I could find.

Tonight was going to be fun.

Rakim’s Point of View

It wasn’t anyone’s fault that I was sad that day. What Tre didn’t know was that it was my father’s birthday. But he wasn’t here to celebrate. Instead, he was up in heaven watching down helplessly on my life. There wasn’t much help he could give whether or not he was alive, though. I didn’t need help. I was more than satisfied with my life. I was living my dreams.