Ecstasy- Rapper imagines

There for you- 2pac

"You okay," Monica asks, sitting beside me. I lean my head on her shoulder and continue starting at the tv.

"Yeah," I respond. Suddenly I get chills, but I pull my blankets closer to me and they go away.

"You sure," she asks, kissing my head. I nod, and lean back into the couch as she gets up and grabs her keys. "I'll be back. I love you."

"I love you too," I say as I get up and head to my bedroom. I hear the phone ring the moment I get undressed. That shit is aggravating.

I go an answer the phone and it's Malcom.

"Yo, cuh. You could talk," he asks.

"I was finna take a shower, wassup," I respond twisting the wire around my finger.

"Go clean ya ass. Just call me back Ight," he says with a little chuckle.

"Okay, nigga. Love you."

"Love you too, guh." I hang up the phone and run back to the bathroom. Taking a nice warm shower.

8pm

It's been hours since my shower and now I'm ready to take another one. The moment I got out the shower my dance instructor called in sick so I had to go and teach the kids at the dance studio. And not just 1 class. Five fucking classes. I did not sign up for this. Plus, I had the worst chills. Especially around my five pm class. They needa work on that AC.

I turn on the water, and start getting chills again. The phone rings again. Oh crap, I forgot to call Malcom back. Shit. He finna cuss me out. I run into the kitchen to answer the phone.

"Hey," I say, praying to God it wasn't Malcom.

"Hey baby girl," I hear. It's Mama Cee, Malcom's mom, and my aunt. I smile hearing her voice. I missed ha so much.

"Hey mama," I reply, letting the excitement show in my voice. Her and my mom were the closest sisters on the planet. And Malcom and I were as close to brother and sister as cousins could get. That's my brother.

"You sitting down baby," she asks me calmly.

"No ma'am," I respond confused.

"Grab a chair and sit down," she says. I place the phone on the counter and grab a chair from the table. I sit on it and put the phone back to my ear.

"I'm sitting."

"Okay baby. Now when I tell you this imma need you to breathe, you hear me," she says, taking a deep breath. Did something happen to my mama?

"I hear you," I respond. Something happen to uncle Chris?

"I would tell you this face to face but I'm not in town. And I can't imagine anybody else telling you this," she rants. My anxiety spikes. What happened?

"Mama, what's going on," I ask. The chills start coming back.

"Baby, Malcom got shot at the corner store," she says with a shaky voice. I gasp and drop the phone. I take big breaths and pick the phone up again.

"Is he okay?"  There's silence. Lots of silence. It's like she stopped breathing, and because of that so did I. "Is Malcom okay?"

"Y/N, baby," she starts and then breaks down into sobs. I know exactly what that means. But it can't be true. "Malcom's gone."

I hang up the phone and run to the bathroom throwing up. I hear a knock at the door. I wipe my mouth and put a hoodie and shorts on before answering it. I try to keep the tears back, but by now my eyes are so puffy I can barely see out of them. They took my brother from me.

I open it, knowing that I was too short to see through the peep whole. It was Pac.

One look at me and he pushes past me, closing the door behind him. He pulls me in his arms, holding me tightly.

"I'm sorry," he says, kissing my forehead.

"They killed him, Pac," I say, head in his chest. "They fucking killed him!"

Pac flinches at my tone, but doesn't let go, he just rubs my back.

"I know, I just found out," he tells me and I look up at him. Him and Malcom were like brothers.

"They killed my fucking brother, Pac," I say, punching Pac in his chest. "They killed our fucking brother."

"I know, baby," he says, holding my wrist so I won't hit him again. I let out a shout and the tears overflow. I scream again. And again. And again. My fucking brother.

Pac pulls me back into a hug, resting his head on top of mine. I know he's hurting. I know he's in pain. Yet he's here, comforting me.

"Pac," I say, releasing him. I get on my tippy toes and grab his face, making him look me in the eye. "It's okay to cry, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know baby," he says, wiping my tears with his thumb.

"You can cry in front of me ya know," I say, wiping my nose with my hoodie sleeve.

"I know." His eyes don't water. There's nothing but, well, nothing in his eyes. They're empty. But I know Pac. The only thing besides being here with me that he's thinking about, is getting revenge.

"Pac, he was your brother too."

"I know that."

"So why aren't you crying? Scream. Cry. Yell, Pac. Don't just stand there like you don't care."

"I do care," he says, grabbing my chin. "That's why I'm finna kill them mothafukas."

"Pac," I say. "That's revenge. Not justice."

"Fuck justice then. Them niggas killed Malcom. Malcom. Malcom, bruh," he says with anger. He's not yelling, he's just speaking how he normally would. This isn't what I wanted, but it's emotion. He's showing something.

"You're in pain baby," I ask, caressing his lips with my thumb. He shrugs his shoulders, and kisses my thumb.

"Ion care about allat right now. I'm tryna be there fa you," he says, pushing my hands away and placing his on my waist.

"Pac," I say, cupping his face again. "Let me be there for you."