btw, i appreciate ALL comments lol i literally live for you guys' feedback. i don't respond to them because wattpad acts dumb asf when i try to do so. if i could, id respond to every single comment i recieve! i just wanted to say that so i wouldn't come off as unnapreciative or smth, enjoy !!
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My hand made contact with the cold metal of the hospital room door, sending a shiver down my spine. When I entered the room, I sensed an eerie feeling, the room was dim. The only light that could be seen was the one over Eazy's bed.
The respiratory machine made all kinds of shuffling noises, and the IV monitor did it's periodical beeping. Eazy just laid there, unconcious and in a deep sleep. The breathing mask, covering the bottom half of his face. He looked tired, like he had been up for days. I pulled up a chair, and sat next to his bed. Holding my head in my hands, I mentally beat myself up. My best friend,whom I used to run the world with, right along with 4 more guys; he was dying. He'd been in here for a good 3 weeks, and I had finally got the courage to come see him. Something I should have done a while ago.
"'Sup, Eric," my voice dry, laced with grief, "It's Dre." I looked down at the floor, sighing heavily. "Man, I been - I been makin' some dope new tracks. This next N.W.A album, it's bout to be dope." I grinned through crocodile tears. "Huge. Y'know? Aye you remember that time when, uh, we was makin' Boyz N The Hood? Yo' non rappin' ass," I chuckled. "Trippin' out, man." I buried my face in my hands and let the tears fall. "I love you, E. You hear me, I love you, man."
I couldn't take it, I couldn't see him like this. Disbelief took over me, this wasn't happening. It had to be some kind of nightmare, my mind was playing tricks on me. But I was mistaken: this was real life.
Stepping outside of the room, I saw Cube coming up the hallway. "Dre," he said before giving me daps.
"How's he doin'?" He asked, looking through the window in the door to E's hospital room. "Can he talk? Can he - can he -" I cut him off by saying, "Naw man, he's in a fuckin' coma. They got the machine's breathin' for him and shit. He aint even consious."
Cube just looked at me, "I need to hear his voice, Dre. I wanna talk to him. I want him to talk to me."
I just nodded as more tears fell, "I feel that."
He rubbed his temples and dapped me again before turning around and disppearing around the hallway corner. Once he was gone, I just stared at Eric through the glass panel. Shaking my head, ridding my brain of the negative thoughts, I just walked down to the exit. Suge called me this morning, asking could I come down to the studio. I set that aside to visit Eric instead.
Entering the parking lot, I become relieved when I spot my white 87' Ferrari. For the past 4 years, I haven't been able to drive it very far, that is until a few days ago when my probation period ended. I led LAPD in a high speed chase back in 91' - which resulted in a DUI charge, and 8 months in prison.
I 'skrrt'ed my tires down the exit, and initiated my departure to Deathrow records HQ. Cutting corners and swfitly riding through LA, I was at my destination within no time.
Pushing the large glass doors apart, I entered the building and heard faint music all the way from the studio; which was all the way on the 4th floor. The receptionist didn't even greet me when I passed by the front desk. She was too busy filing her jagged nails to notice her boss was present. I just brushed it off; pushing the number 4 in the iridescent colored elevator.
I paced through the red lengthy hallway, the big neon light that read 'Deathrow Records' illuminating the room each time it flashed.
I finally reached the main room where most of the guys who rolled with Suge hung out. They were scattered all over the place; preoccupied with recreational activities. Spotting Suge smoking a cigar in the corner, we noticed eachother at the same time, and I approached him with a dap, "What's good, Suge?"
"How you livin', man?" He said, patting me on the back before puffing on his cigar.
I just shook my head, taking off my Dodgers hat and rubbing my head, "I don't know man, I just came from seein' E."
Suge just nodded, and look at everyone who was in the room, then looked at me. "Let's talk in one of the studios," he said, then opening the door to the closest studio room. I placed my hat back on my head then, followed him inside, closing the door behind us.
"What's up man? Everything alright?" I said, somewhat concerned on why he wanted to talk all private and whatnot. It's not like anyone could hear us outside over the music.
Suge smashed the end of his cigar in an ashtray that rested on the arm of a chair. He began, "These contracts, we might not have a problem with Ruthless releasing you anymore."
"Why you say that? To be honest with you, that ain't the first thing that's on my mind right now." I bluntly stated, he was bugging about this for the longest. I was in a bad way right now, and I guess Suge couldn't see that.
Suge just nodded, "I feel you, but I had to do what I had to do."
What the hell was he talking about? I already knew coming here was a bad idea. Suge was a shiesty being. Instead of lashing out on him, I just said, "Yeah man, whatever. So what we gonna do? I'm not finna just ask Eric to sign the shit. He's in a coma; and even if he wasn't I'm not about to do that shit. You know how that nigga felt when I first left. What makes you think them feelings changed?"
"He ain't gotta sign if he dead. Jerry gone, so we can't get him to sign. Looks as if we finally got you in Deathrow," Suge said, laughing and trying to come in with a handshake.
I brushed that shit aside, "What, nigga? Eric ain't dead, and he not gone die," denial rushed over me, "I'm out. Call me when 'Pac ready to record that one joint."
"I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut," Suge dissed.
"You crazy, man. What's gone happen?" I taunted him, Suge was crazy, but he wasn't crazy enough to fuck with his main money maker.
"Or else I'd have to change you, too."
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i unpublished The Need to Know guys :(
i wasn't really feeling it anymore, even though it was a short story. i really didn't know what else to do with it so, yeah.
