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"Good enough" Robyn mumbled to herself, adjusting the oversize sweatshirt that hung off of her shoulders. She ran her hands over her slick back hair that fell into a long ponytail down her back. In her eyes, she looked fine being that she wasn't going to impress anybody. The outfit wasn't ideal for a strip club, but it would have to work.
It wasn't like she wanted to go in the first place. Being seen out with Austin and his whole gang made her feel out of place and as if she didn't belong. Everyone looked at her weird when they seen her, but it never lasted long. In the public eye, she was someone that the people who were once closest to her knew she wasn't. She wasn't addressed as Robyn, Rihanna was the pseudonym that most knew her by.
Rihanna was the person who could curse you out in a split second, she was the one who looked at you with no soul left in her eyes and not a care in the world for anything, the one who was well respected and had no problem pulling a trigger on anyone who even looked at her the wrong way.
But Robyn, she couldn't and wouldn't ever dare do those things to anyone. She had to get into her element which only came out under the influence. She either had to carry around pills or alcohol to be that person she hated that she had to become. She wouldn't call herself an addict to the drugs or the alcohol, but they did come in handy whenever she did need them.
Stepping back from her mirror in satisfaction, she turned to grab her small purse. She stuffed her phone, pills, and dark shades in. The internal battle she had with herself whenever it came time to pick up her custom beretta was one that was constant. She only ever carried it when with Austin and having to continuously prove herself. It would be smart to have it with her all time due to her status, but she didn't feel comfortable doing that.
"Fuck it." She mumbled, stuffing it into her small purse at the bottom of everything else. She didn't even want to see her reflection in the mirror when she walked past it, so she decided to keep her head down. She was disgusted in the things she'd already done, but she could only hope that the end result would work out in her favor. Besides, she wasn't doing any of this for her own selfish want and need.
She walked with her head high out the door of her large sky rise condo. She lived on the top floor in the grand suite, it gave much more than her old house in Dorchester which is where she grew up.
The people of the building grew to acknowledge her more and respect her more than what they had before. She was never the type who could be considered ghetto or ratchet, but she definitely didn't look like she belonged when she moved in almost 3 years ago.
