To Your Rescue: The Original Work From The Tumblr Author

Chapter Forty-Six

Emilia

I wrapped up in the studio with the guys around eleven o'clock. OB came down to work on some stuff with Hush. I would've liked to stay around, but remembering what Aubrey had said just a little while ago I went to look for him. Being that this place was as big as it was, I was hoping that I wouldn't have to embark on an adventure to find him. There was no sign of him in the living room or the kitchen. I peeked outside the French doors that lead to the pool area; he wasn't there. I journeyed up the stairs to his bedroom; no good. My last thought was what he called the safari room. I remembered when he first gave me a tour of his estate that he told me that's where he went to do a lot of his thinking. Something about the serene outlook over the resort style pool brought him ease and serenity.

The smell of a burning herb elevated as I walked down the hallway. When I opened the door, I found him sitting in a chair with his feet kicked up on the window pane. Smoke slowly released from his mouth in perfect O's as the reflection from the moon and water outside brought light to the dim room.

I cleared my throat to announce my presence; closing the door behind me.

"Wassup?" he only lifted the blunt to his lips and took another hit.

"It's me," I treaded lightly as I walked towards him.

"You all done with work?" he slowly turned around and met eyes with me.

"Yeah," I examined him as he took yet another hit. Remembering the conversation with him last night, I suddenly got the urge to walk up and snatch it from his mouth.

He gave me a sideways look, "Yo, you need to chill."

"You don't need to smoke all the time," I dropped the remaining half of the blunt in his glass of brown liquor, "or drink either for that matter."

"Are you serious right now?" he chuckled, leaning back in the chair and shrugging his shoulders, "whatever."

"No, it's not whatever. I know we're in a tough spot right now but drowning yourself in this stuff isn't the answer," I said, sternly, "all that crazy talk about taking pills and shit-"

"It's my business-"

"No it's not," I pointed at his beard and hair that he was allowing to grow out, "look at this? Huh? What is that?!"

"You need to lower your tone, Emilia," his voice growled behind gritted teeth.

"No, I won't lower my tone! I'm so sick of this shit. You fucked up and trying to make me feel bad for not being easy on you. That same bullshit Jay pulled with me. I'm not dealing with it. You won't run over –"

He cut me off by picking me up and trapping me between him and the cool tan walls.

"Don't ever compare me to that nigga again," he hissed with angry eyes, "do you hear me?

I returned his stare with glare of my own. He let me go, but still kept me in front of him with my back against the wall.

"I wouldn't have to resort to this shit if you would talk to me," his voice elevated, "but no, you'd rather shut me out like we aren't going through the same shit. Then I have to hear you make a song about- I know that was about how I fucked up."

"So what if it was? I have a right to express my feelings just like you do."

"I didn't say you couldn't."

"Then what's the problem? You seemed pissed when you heard it then you tell me we need to talk. I'm here," I folded my arms across my chest, "what's up?"