𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔈𝔵𝔦𝔱 ✪ ybn | 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

XXXVI | [XXXV. CONT. ENDING]

     NICK WAS STILL in the ER as Blaze sat outside its door, waiting on the cold floor in a white long sleeve, sweats, and Vans. She didn't want to leave until she knew he was alright. This was ber fault. Everything was her fault.

      The only reason why she joined the gang was to create a kickstart for her newfound career, but one thing lead to another and she found herself in some bullshit making dirty paper.

      "Excuse me sweetie, but where are your parents?" a elderly, white man asked wearing black scrubs.

          "I'm eighteen, by myself. Pretty sure I don't need any parents if you know who I am," she replies, still with her knees to her chest. Did she really look like a lonesome child? Who lost their parents? Who abandoned their daughter?

     "Well I might say darling, you can't hang around here. Doctors with stretchers could speed out that door at any minute now. Please, I assist," he begs.

     "I'm good, thanks for asking, Mr. Pea-body," she bluntly says, not standing from her spot.

      He scoffed, "Rude. I hope they run over you."

  "I hope they do, too," she sarcastically spoke. Her mind wonders off to Nahmir. She just wanted to hold him again, be able to feel the uprising heat when things would get naughty between them. She truly loved him, though she knew he wouldn't forgive her for what she's done.

        After waiting for hours, she finally set her pride to the side and went home. Where she cried like a baby, popping Xanax to ease her anxiety. She hasn't taken her medication in months... she was deprived. She didn't dare touch the antidepressants, she didn't want to step in front of a busy highway like she did the last time.

       Stripping herself to her undergarments, she climbs under the covers and falls asleep with a headache that was big as Kanye West's ego.

          Sitting on the sofa, covered with a black blanket with peach tea setting on the table, she had her lyric book in hand, figuring out what to write. The fact Nahmir took bullets for her astonished her. Beginning to brainstorm, she wrote a few verses down, naming the song, 'Trip.'

          She heard a knock at the door, standing from the couch, she went to get it; holding a glock by her side. Opening the door, she seen Cordae, Zion, Jay, and Manny–along with a boy she didn't know.

       They all forced the door open, piling theirselves in her home. She looked at them like they lost their minds.

     "Who the fuck you think you is barging into my house like that?!" she fumes, "Nigga, I don't even know you!" she points at the unknown boy.

     "I'm Allen—"

"Well, Allen, y'all gone have to get the fuck out—"

     "Yo' Blaze, chill mane," Jay spoke in a loud tone.

"Why you holding a gun? You gone shoot us?" asked Manny.

      Blaze been paranoid about her surroundings. Ever aince the incident, she hasn't been the same.

     "No, I'm not," she puts the gun on safety, throwing it back into the basket next to the door, "why you here?"

     "We need to get down on the reason why our nigga's in the hospital. We figured we come to you since you was onstage with him," Cordae says, placing his hands in his pants pockets.