[Bad As Ever || Book 2]

22°

» "i've been prospering ever since I dropped 'don't', nigga..."

[one week later]

Miami, FL;

"Go out on the weekends, I barely. Peace and prosperity. Drinking, not heavy. She can't stop texting me. Live bitches can't get wit—"

Bryson's phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting him off from his flow. He placed the headphones around the mic and pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing Kelly's name pop up on his screen.

"Yo!" He called happily into the phone.

He had felt so alive for the past couple of days. The label paid for his condo and he was so thankful to get out of the hotel rooms. Also, he'd received his very first check, which wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it was definitely enough to put a smile on his face.

"Hey, Bry. How's it going?" Kelly's voice came through the line.

"I'm good, just vibin' in the studio. I called you yesterday..."

"Yea, I came to the hospital last night. That's where I am now. My body wasn't acting right, from an old injury; it's not major." She clarified.

"Damn, you need anything? I'm not really doing much." He offered, cutting the light off in the small studio of his condo.

"Actually, I was wondering if you could please bring me something to eat, this food is terrible." She said, causing him to laugh.

"Yea, I got you. Anywhere in particular?" He asked, sliding on his shoes and grabbing his car keys.

"No, I'll eat whatever you bring." She sighed, obviously tired from being in the hospital.

Bryson hung up the phone and decided to pick up Subway, seeing as though he wanted some, too and also not sure what to get somebody who was in the hospital.

There was only two other people in the shop, talking to one another about some things they'd heard in the news.

"Yea, man. I've never heard of some mess like that. You try to kill yourself but the bullet misses your brain, it must feel horrible to know you can't even suicide right." One man joked.

"Well, I doubt she knows what's going on. She won't make it. I hear she's in a coma in the hospital up the street, that thing'll hit her brain and she'll be gone in no time." The other explained.

Bryson shook his head at them and ordered he and Kelly's food.

Louisville, KY;

"Paris, why don't you get out a little, sweetheart?" Hattie suggested, leaning on the doorframe of Bryson's room.

"I'm bothering you, aren't I? I'm sorry, I ju—"

"Bothering me? You've barely said two words to me. You're worrying me, is what you're doing." She said coming in the room completely and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm fine, auntie. Really. I'm just tired, that's all." Paris explained, sitting up and sighing deeply.

"You sure? I feel like I'm letting sink in you're own pity. Come on, Paris. You're pregnant. You should be glowing." She exclaimed, smiling wide.

Paris gave her a weak smile and twirled her bracelet around her wrist, "I don't think I'm going to go through with it."

Her voice was quiet and low, but Hattie still heard and her eyes widened almost immediately.

"But, why? Didn't you tell Bryson. Isn't he excited?"

"I didnt tell him," she bit the corner of her lip, "But he's SO happy right now. I don't wan to be the one to mess that up like I've done so often."

"What do you mean?" Hattie asked.

"Well, he had so much going for him when he first moved to Miami, then I moved with him and his career was suddenly at a standstill."

"Paris, tha—"

"Then, I got pregnant and everything was alright; we were happy. I just had to be fuckin' cold!" Her shouted the last part as tears began to roll down her face.

Hattie remained silent and rubbed her back, sympathetically.

"It's not your fault, sweetie." She said finally, in a soft voice. Paris placed her head in her hands.

"I left and now all these good things are happening to him... He's much better without me." She sobbed.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is, he doesn't even want another baby with me..." She whispered through her tears. She rose from the bed and quickly ran into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.