𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓; nipsey hussle

𝟏𝟒 | 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

          PARTYGOERS SCATTERED FROM THE dance floor and the bar in a chaotic stampede, leaving Lauren caught directly in the middle of the commotion. Glass from the champagne bottle and other drinks crumbled underneath the feet of the group of men as they continued to charge after Kevin. The onlookers gathered at a distance with their phones flashing, taking photos and recording videos. The incision on Lauren's finger continued to bleed, now trickling between her open-toe heels. The colorful dim lighting affected her vision to see clearly as she searched in a near frantic for Cassandra— no where to be found.

Lauren grabbed ahold of her purse that was most likely now drench in every flavor of alcoholic beverage shelved at the bar. The sense of immediate lightheadedness consumed her as she took an unnoticeable stumble from a small step that led to the bar. With ease, she was assisted by a pair of hands that gradually gripped her at the shoulders. These specific hands were strong. "Whoa now! Watch ya' step there, sweetheart," said the voice over the loud music that continued to play throughout the club.

"I can walk, thank you," said Lauren's voice filled with attitude, scoffing. The man snickered at her remark, "I'm sure you can, but I still wouldn't want you to bust yo' shit tryin' to get up outta here."

She strut away from the bar towards the main exit of the nightclub. She fiddled within her purse in search for her phone without looking causing her to drop a few items along the way— she didn't bother to pick them up. The man continued, "You should be embarrassed enough about what just happened tonight."

Lauren continued down the dark hallway that felt like forever with the main trailing behind her, "Embarrassed? Excuse you, but I suggest you watch your tone talking to me. I'm not one of these females you seen twirling on a pole," she said, pushing open the main exit door of the club.

Thank God! No one's waiting outside, Lauren thought, feeling relieved.

The man chuckled once more, almost enough for a laugh. "And why the hell do you keep laughing? I'm not seeing what's so fun—" Lauren exclaimed turning around on her heels to see the man who escorted her out of the nightclub.

"Same ol' Boogaloo..." he smiled.

"Dominic?"

He sighs wanting to smile, "You are the only person besides moms who will not give up on callin' a nigga by his government name," he voiced, reaching down for a hug. Dominic's fitted L.A. hat covered his dark brown orbs. Lauren's arms stretched across his neck for a full embrace as he gripped her waist respectively in return.

"Oh my gosh, Dominic! How are you?" she asked breaking the hug, analyzing him in surprise from head to toe. She embraced him with another quick hug.

"Shit, I should be askin' you the same question. It's been what? Ten years?" Dominic asks. "Ten years, exactly. I see someone has been keeping count."

"Come on now, Boog. How could I forget? We missed ya' goody two-shoes ass around here after you left."

Lauren smacked her lips, "See, now that's where you're wrong at. I was never a goody two-shoes, okay?" she disagreed, still in search of her phone.

"Looking for this?" Dominic asks, reaching to his back pocket with her phone in hand. He continued, "You dropped it in the hallway."

Lauren smiled, "You're such a lifesaver. I must've looked all over that damn bar for it. Thank you," she said, quickly dialing Cassandra— she received no answer.

She tried again. Still, no answer.

"Girl, pick up already," Lauren mumbled, sighing.

"Callin' ya' homegirl?" Dominic asked, leaning down for her attention. "Yes, I am actually. I haven't seen her before that crazy brawl broke out." Lauren continued, "Have you seen her by any chance? Pink satin dress, dark hair." she asked looking up at Dominic.