Sensibilities | Deetranada AU

regard

The Next Day

Dee gives the cashier a small smile, taking her change and stuffing it into her pocket. The cafeteria is packed and loud, as usual. She dodges someone running by, nearly dropping her tray. He doesn't bother apologizing, much to her annoyance.

She weaves through the tables and chairs strewn about, trying to find an empty table. She spies one, not too far from the table she noticed yesterday. They're continuing their actions from the day prior, beating on the table, beatboxing and clapping.

She slows, trying to determine what exactly is happening. She's confused at first until she realizes what it is. It's a cypher. She tries to hide her excitement as she passes the table at a snail's pace, listening for bars.

'...do not care what you got, you can get a writer, a fighter, or fly to Al-Qaeda but you still ain't taking my spot lil bitty bih', a girl spits. Dee hides her smile, admiring the curly haired girl's confidence.

'Aye, lemme get next,' the boy with the high-top fade says. He takes a moment to feel the beat before going for it. "Uh, where the stack at, where the stash at, leave you flat like a flapjack, that's payback.'

They hype him up, giving daps as he notices her again. He smirks, turning to face her. She stops bobbing her head, frozen in place. She's directly in front of the table, unaware that the vibe was drawing her nearer than she wanted to be. She looks down, embarrassed willing her frozen feet to move.

'You tryna spit somethin'?' he asks. She chokes on her words, stumbling. 'Uh, nah I mean, I was just..nah.' He and a few others at the table laugh.

'Don't be shy now, you look like you spittin' fire,' he replies. She bites her smile, trying not to blush. 'I ain't really that good,' she offers, hoping to get out of it.

'Let me be the judge.' She stares at him, feeling his eyes urge her to accept his challenge. She frowns, her mind mentally telling him to stop. But rather than stop, she feels him encourage her, wordlessly.

The fuck? He chuckles, nodding his head, catching onto their near-telepathic conversation. She examines the rest of the table, their curious eyes easing her nervousness a bit.

She sighs, placing her tray down. The boy smiles, motioning to another one with frizzy curls to restart the beat. She takes a deep breath, feeling the beat as she tries to psyche herself up.

You got this Dee. She closes her eyes and lets the words flow effortlessly. 'Not really tryna spit but if that's what it takes, you get hit with the clip, ain't sparing nobody, betta hope ya head don't get split.'

She stops, opening her eyes to amused faces before looking back down at the table. 'Okay, okay, so you tryna battle?' the boy with the high top says with a smirk.

'Nah, I just...um. It was something I had...from before.' She feels someone staring and she looks up, directly at him. He stares at her, his face unreadable. She takes in his brown eyes, his curly ponytail, his pink lips--. Uh uh, cut that shit Dee. But damn...he fine as fu--

'Battle me," he says. It takes a second for her to register his voice with his face. 'Damn Nov, she just said she ain't trying to,' the first boy defends. Nova ignores him, an intensity behind his eyes that makes her stomach feel uneasy.

'Coming for me, gonna take more than a clip, better keep at least five on ya hip...' Nova starts. Dee is mesmerized, barely registering what he's saying. He can battle me any day.

'Oooouuu,' a voice yells, breaking her trance. 'Add that to ya list, gone be dismissed, cause if you not down with the team you don't exist. Or you can ven aca ma, I know you can't resist.'