Harlem Tales (A$AP Rocky)

Two

Two 

 

Rakim 

     I rushed off stage in hopes of seeing the blonde hair that I've become familiar too. Surprisingly, everything was the same way I left it. "Where's Blondie?" I asked looking around at Ferg and Q who both had an amused look on their face. "She left." Q answered. My face immediately fell. I wasn't one to get attached easily, but something about Blondie seemed so right, and I didn't want her to just completely disappear.

     "Why so down?" Ferg asked smirking at me. I immediately threw back on my 'don't give a fuck' facade. "Psh, down? Nah. We don't love these hoes." I answered as I took a seat in the chair. The concert was over, and once I again, I put my heart out there. The crowd was still screaming as if they were waiting for one last song.

     "Well then you wouldn't care if we met up with them again tomorrow?"Ferg asked winking at Q. "Q seemed to have really hit it off with Grendy." Ferg stated not being able to stop his laughter coming. "And when I say hit it off, I mean hit it off. You might want to change the sheets in the back." Ferg said winking at Q.

     "Awee, damn you." Q stated shrugging. "You gotta do what you gotta do to get the pussy." I shook my head at them. I wasn't the type of person to get committed, but I knew better than to fuck with females heads like that. They start getting all psycho, and everybody knows that a psycho female, is a clingy female.

     And I, Rakim, was not finna go through no clingy girl.

     I sighed. "I'm tired, I just want to hit the bunks." I stated as a yawn took over my body. Ferg nodded. "You going to need it for tomorrow night. There's this club a couple blocks down inviting us to come. It's Sagittarius season and you know how bad they be." Ferg stated. I raised an eyebrow and smirked. I wasn't worried about Blondie no more, I was about to get me an authentic ass black girl who could satisfy my needs.

                                                                                          . . .

     The next morning I woke up to the sound of music blasting in the kitchen. I immediately jumped off the bed and waltzed my way into the kitchen where I saw my mother humming to an old Barbados jam. I snuck up behind her engulfing her into a hug. "Rocky," She stated passion dripping out of her voice. She faced me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

     "Oh my son, I've missed you so much." She stated as she grabbed a hold of my hand. I smiled down at her. "I just saw you yesterday," I answered. She scrunched her eyes together and shook her head. "It must be my old age." She stated. 

     It was sad,  because she was still constantly blaming her age for her constant forgetfulness and her struggle to do the simple task that she was once able to do. Even after multiple talks with her doctor and counselor, the world Alzheimer just didn't occur to her. 

     She stood on her tippy toes as she tried to grab a disk of salt from the cabinet. "Here let me get it," I stated. She slapped my hand away. "Rakim, I can do this." She stated sternly as she made one last attempt to reach for the salt. In a matter of seconds, the dish collapsed to the floor spilling the white powder onto my brown carpet.

     Helen, my mother, began hysterically crying. "Mommy, please." I stated caressing her weak body. "I just wanted to cook you breakfast, you know like the old days. But I can't. Why Rakim? Why can't I just do things?" She asked the tears pouring faster. I hated seeing her like this.