Pyramids [Frank Ocean]

Sierra Leone.

I placed my thumb under my chin, "I doubt it, those last two days were spent at a friend's house." I lied, there's no way I could tell her about my secret rendezvous with a therapist about post-traumatic stress, or the my run-in with a famous rap group from Los Angeles—she'd tell me I'm being delusional, or probably think I'm weird.

I can't have her thinking that, "But!" I suddenly remembered what I had to tell her, " Tomorrow at around 5, I'm going somewhere so I'll have to call off as well."

Luna's nose contorted while her eyes began to narrow, "I don't know Hāna, boss already doesn't like us calling out, what'll happen if he finds out you aren't at work?"

I shrugged, "I'll let you in on a little secret..." my fingers motioned for her to lean in closer, as her ears came into vicinity of my mouth I whisper, "I'm his best call girl, you think he'll try and get rid of me so easily?"

Before I could even look to see her reaction, I got up from the pavement, watching as a car pulled over to scope us both out.

"How much an hour?" The man asked as I leaned forward to give him a preview of my breasts.

"$100 for full sex, $80 for oral," I reply on queue.

The man smirked, "Get in."

And with that, a long night of work awaits.

                                    ***

Frank's POV

I don't know what I spent more time on today; showering myself with cologne, or rubbing shea butter across my skin. Either way I have to make myself look presentable in front of my fans—and potentially Hāna. As I entered my feet into the soles of my retro Nikes It donned to me that Tyler was banging at the bathroom door; rather loudly at that.

"YO QUIT HOGGING UP THE HOT WATER MAN SHIT!" Tyler yelled, still in his boxer briefs, "WE GOT ANOTHER HOUR TO GET READY AND I STILL AIN'T SHOWER, AND IF I DONT, NIGGA YO ASS GONE GET THE NASTIEST PRANK TONIGHT. SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPENED BITCH!"
I couldn't help but wince at the noise coming in from the halls, it's a relief I showered earlier in the day so that I don't have to deal with waiting for the rest of the group to take care of personal hygiene. Tyler marched in the room, plopping down on his makeshift bed on the floor—arms crossed while a scowl tattooed his face.

I chuckled airily, "You seem upset."

"Fuck you Frank," he responds with venom in his words, "A nigga only has half an hour to get ready and I ain't even shower yet!"

"I told you to shower around noon, but no; you were too busy playing Grand Theft Auto with the boys," I shoot back while grabbing my signature red and white headband, tying it swiftly around my forehead in front of the vanity mirror.

Tyler scratches his neck before standing up, "Whatever. You heard anything front Hāna yet?"

The sound of her name brought a smile to my heart, but I couldn't show any signs of excitement in front of Tyler, nor any of the boys, "Nah, did you?"

"Yeah, Malachi's coming too." Tyler says, which of course causes my jaw to lock, my fists to ball, and my mood to sour.

"Why that nigga coming? I thought I told you I didn't like him,"