𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬

𝐈𝐈 - 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧' 𝟏𝟎𝟏

January 8th, '01

Twiggy's POV

I woke up to a warm and busty body pressed into my back. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the chick I met last night at Cam'ron's kush party. She looked beat now that her makeup was smeared all over my pillow and the sun was spotlighting her worst features. Flinging her arm away, I leaned onto my stomach, trying to grab my watch on the nightstand when I realized it wasn't there. I got up out of bed, waking the girl next to me and skimmed the floor to see if I had dropped it.

"Whatchu lookin' for?," the girl asked me, yawning.

"Watch. Move," I said, searching the bed to see if it got lost in the sheets.

Kissing her teeth, she mumbled, "Ion got it. That watch ugly as shit. There ain't even no rocks in it."

"Girl, did I say you had it?," I asked, annoyed. "And don't be knockin' my shit. I sell that watch and I promise you, I could buy your life."

"Boy, whatever," she said, walking into the en-suite.

I found it on my pile of clothes by the end of the bed. 8:32. Shit. Any day I started past 7:15 exactly, was ass.

I made my way to the bathroom, but realized the chick was in there. I pounded on the door.

"Yo B, what are you doin'?," I asked.

"I wanna brush my teeth!," she yelled across the door.

Bitch, what? I got the key to the bathroom door and opened it to find the chick was really brushing her teeth, with my shit.

"Get yo ass up outta here bro, what is this?," I shouted at her.

She looked at me, clearly shocked I opened the door to my own bathroom. I grabbed her arm and pulled her out. Today was not the day. I threw her clothes at her and skimmed my wallet, passing her a 50.

"Get you some' to eat and a cab," I mumbled at her and made my way to the shower.

***

I stepped out my black Chrysler and walked up to the old apartment building, where Cam'ron lived. He buzzed me in and I made my way up those 5 flights of piss covered steps.

I knocked a few times before he opened his door wide open, saying, "Yo, whazz brackin' homie?" He rolled his head around a bit and dapped me up before telling me, "I thought you said 10 o'clock, son."

"My fault C, I had a bit of a situation, na'mean?," I told him but, thinking better of it, I said, "Wait, I know you ain't talkin' to me about the time, dawg. You?"

He laughed knowingly, slapping me violently on the back. Kissing my teeth, I walked into his apartment.

There was smoke all over the place, you'd think they were having a BBQ. But it was just a group of maybe 8 people, both male and female, smokin' up fat blunts of purple haze like it wasn't a quarter past 10 in the morning. I liked weed as much as the next nigga, but I knew where I drew the line.

I looked back at C, raising an eyebrow. He always kept questionable company.

"Look nigga, they paid for it all, a'ight?," he responded to my non-verbal disapproval.

"Mmhmm."

"So, whassup? What you gotta tell me that you can't tell me over the phone?," I questioned. He paged me earlier on my Motorola, telling me to stop by his joint.

"Oh yeah, imma need to hold yo' whip for a minute," he said in an offhandish way.

I laughed a little, thinkin' he was toyin' with me. But he looked dead serious. "Nah nigga," I told him, rubbing my fingers on my chin.