' 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 ' › D. SWING

11.

For those of you who don't know, Melissa was my younger cousin. I had taken her in after I had founded out she  had left her parents' home 6 months prior to when we had ran into each other. I mean, yeah we haven't seen each other in years nor have we kept in touch but she was family and had never steered me wrong in the years I've actually known her. So far, she's still been the same. Humorous, outspoken, sincere, and creative. It was easy for me and Melissa to write songs together. Over a matter of two weeks, we had thirty written but of course we had to sing it to the girls and they helped us pick out seven that would be worth putting on the demo. With having rehearsals at a piano store—since I couldn't afford to buy my own—we were closer to perfecting the songs and getting them done. Only thing we needed now was a studio and a good producer. Don't get me wrong, I can play the piano but there was no way in hell I was going to try and produce a entire demo by myself. They would turn us down for sure.

"Yo! Check it out. What if me and the girls go look for a producer and you find us a studio?", Chonita suggested as she looked at me with her long acrylic nails running through her ponytail. All of the girls were leaned against the piano, surrounding me. I was like a big sister to all of them, so they always seemed to ask for my approval or cling onto me. I grew up a girl who wanted her space so this made me feel socially and physically claustrophobic at times. I nodded my head, confident that in a big city like New York City they were bound to find a producer. The only concern was if he would be up to my standards. After all, I've worked with one of the best if not the best.

We split up shortly after and I decided to drop by the record store on my quest to find a studio. That's when I saw him. He was 5'8", about average weight, and handsome. His skin was brown and as smooth as new growth after you get a relaxer. With those full lips, that semi-wide nose, and bad boy style, he could have any girl falling to his feet. Walking further into the record store, I headed over to the Hip-Hop/Rap section, looking for Nuttin Nyce's Down 4 Whateva record. As I shuffled through the vinyls, I see a tall, chocolate brother   walking over to me in my peripheral. He had to be at least 5'11". I keep my eyes forward as he props his arm up on the stack of records beside me, leaning over while looking down at me, "Excuse me, ma'. I saw you grillin' me when you walked in so I was tryna' see  what's up." His voice was deep and raspy. Kind of sexy, to be honest.

I lift my eyes and turn my head to meet his gaze, offering a soft grin, "Oh, sorry. I wasn't looking at you. I was actually looking for this section." I gestured to the Hip-Hop/Rap sign hanging on the wall and he chuckled and shook his head.

"No need to be shy, baby", he replied as he stepped closer to me, his free arm hooking around my lower back and I quickly move my hands between us, pressing them against his chest.

"Whoa, whoa. You got the wrong idea", I said with more volume this time in hopes that he would step off.

He smirked as his arm tightened around me and my stomach was against his pelvis. I could feel his belt buckle as it pressed into my skin, his bulge freakishly larger than most. This man was hung like a horse. I became more tense and he noticed, laughing a little, "What? You afraid of bein' fucked by a gangsta?" His tongue swiftly ran over his lips before he continued, "I would have ya' lil' ass in positions you probably never heard of. I know you feel me." Oh, I feel you. I was speechless. The virgin in me was curious but I didn't know this man, and he was invading my private space. Literally. He was more aggressive than I was used to. I've been hit on by a lot of guys but not like this. It made me feel uneasy but also a little turned on.

I continued to press my hands against his chest, this time a bit harder, "Look. I'm not that kind of girl, alright? Can you step off? Stop touching me."

"Yo, Earl! What you doin', b?", a 6'0", lighter toned black man asked as the guy I saw earlier made his way over to where we were standing, placing his hand on Earl's shoulder and pulled him away from me.