As I gradually open my eyes, a mild headache lingering, my hand reaches out to the nightstand in search of my phone. Checking the time while rubbing my eyes, panic sets in as I discover it's 9:20 AM, and I have a job to get to in 40 minutes.
Hastily shedding my clothes, a realization hits me—I had ordered a bunch of stuff from Shein the day before, and the delivery was scheduled for 6 AM today.
I rush to the front door, quickly opening it to find taped-up packages from Shein on the corner. Panic mode on, I quickly scan the surroundings, making sure no one witnesses my nearly naked state in just a bra and underwear.
Slipping into my Yeezys, I dash towards the packages, only to clumsily trip over nothing but air. Yes, you heard it right—air.
I glance down to see my bleeding knee, wincing in pain as I struggle to get back on my feet.
Inside the apartment, I apply a cold ice pack to my wound and wrap it with gauze. Glancing at the time, I realize it's 9:45 AM, and the urgency to get ready for work sets in. I throw my phone on the bed, swiftly going through my quick skincare routine—moisturizing, applying serum, and eye balm. Opting for light makeup to defy Shanice's advice, I declare, "I don't care; I'm not going anywhere without makeup on."
With the bag of brand-new clothes at my disposal, I tear it open and scatter the items on my bed. Choosing a gray hoodie and camo print cargo pants without time for a trial, I put on my trusty, fashionable boots from high school and grab my fluffy yellow purse. Before leaving the room, I capture a quick snapshot of my outfit in the mirror for a potential post on my instagram feed.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In a rush, I exit my apartment, frantically pressing the elevator button. As I attempt to order an Uber, the app glitches, leaving me frustrated. Despite multiple attempts to restart the app, it keeps crashing.
The elevator's ding interrupts my struggle, and I step in, contemplating my options without a ride. Instinctively, without thinking on whether Kentrell was truthful or not, I press the button for the 10th floor, contemplating seeking help.
As the elevator ascends, the unmistakable scent of weed and other drugs engulfs the hallway. Turning to my right, I notice a group of men huddled in the corner, smoking a blunt.
Their attention abruptly shifts to me, and a brownskin guy with freeforms swiftly pulls out a gun, shouting, "Who the f*ck is u?"
His shout reverberates through the hallway, and more guys who look like apart of a gang emerge from an apartment, fixating their gaze on me.
"Im-" my voice gets cut off as Kentrell walks out, claiming with a low-toned voice,
"She ma girlfriend."
The word "girlfriend" echoes in my mind, "girlfriend?! what is this nigga talking about" i think silently to myself, I frown with confusion as his friends look at me with a assured look while a few other of them seems to be too distracted staring at my my curves
