It's a Battlefield : A Dricki Fan-Fic

Chapter 20

One month later...

Nicki

It's been a full month since the whole Drake/SB incident, and things literally couldn't be worse. Think I'm exaggerating? I actually made a list of all the bad things that has happened since that day, because God knows I have way more freetime on my hands than I know what to do with right now.

- I lost my job at StarBucks. A very angry  Jessica called me up a few days after the whole spectacle and fired me, telling me that it was "unacceptable" to skip work for a week straight like I did, and that I could've at least called in and told her I wasn't going to be there. I told her to "hop off my tip" and that I "had a lot going on".

- SB hasn't made any effort whatsoever to talk to me. He legitimately hates me right now, and I don't blame him. I kind of hate me too.

- Drake won't talk to me either. I think part of it is because he doesn't really have time anymore, given that he's back at university now.

- Rihanna is literally the only person I talk to now.

- I'm getting more depressed by the minute.

- I weigh a little over 67 pounds now, when I used to weight a little over 110. I've lost 43 pounds without even meaning to. I'm guessing my massive weight loss is due to my lack of food consumption.

- I have less than $20 in my bank account.

- I might have herpes.

Ok, the last one was a joke, but the other 7 are 100% true.

I heard quiet footsteps creeping up the stairs, and I knew before she even walked through the door that it was Rihanna.

She knocked on my door before coming in, with a bowl of chicken noodle soup in her hands.

"Hey baby," she said, sitting down on my bed next to me. "Feeling any better?"

"No," I said weakly.

"You want some soup? I just made it."

I eyed the bowl of soup, trying to decide whether or not I wanted it. I know it would benifit me, but I seriously wasn't hungry. It was actually kind of weird. I hadn't eaten a thing for four days straight, but I always felt filled. Before I fell into this huge depression it was like I could never be filled.

"I don't think so, Rihanna," I said without making eye contact.

"C'mon, Nicki," she pleaded, "Please eat, you need to. All you are right now is skin and bones. I'm worried about you."

A couple seconds past before I groaned in defeat. I had been rejecting her food for the last week and a half. I decided to give her a break. "Ok, fine."

I took the soup from her hands and ate slowly, while Rihanna and I made small talk. She told me about some new bitch at her work named Shontelle, who apparently thinks that "she's all that" because she's dating a  professional basketball player.

"You would think with all of the money they got, she could at least afford to fix her weave. You can see her tracks, and it literally makes me cringe."

"Ew," I said, regaining some of my strength.

"I know, right? And it's like, soooo nappy. It doesn't even look like she brushes it in the morning. Plus she wears it the same way everyday; board straight. It's not attractive. Like how does that end up with a professional basketball player? He must be blind."

"Yeah," I agreed. "You need to show me a picture of her. I want to see what she looks like."

"Trust me, Nicki, you really don't," she laughed.