In Too Deep [Lesbian Rihanna x Nicki]

C.R.E.A.M

All I'm trying to do is survive and make good out of the dirty, nasty, unbelievable lifestyle that they gave me.

Tupac Shakur

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What!? I'm tryna work right now!" I yelled into my cellphone. The truth was that I was hardly working. Nobody was looking to buy and the streets were empty save for a few crackheads and hoes walking around.

"Is that any way to talk to the mother of your child?" The raspy voice on the other end joked.

"What is it, Kehlani?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. My name is Robyn Rihanna Fenty, and I have had a short fuse for as long as I can remember. Nevertheless, I also had soft spot, which was an anomaly in itself, but it only applied to Kehlani, whom I'd met in middle school and dated for a short period of time in my sophomore year of high school.

We had plenty of history together with a complicated relationship as the frontrunner even though now we weren't dating. Instead, we shared a convoluted bond that even if I spent too much time thinking about, gave me a headache.

"I need you to go to the store on your way back home."

I stared at my phone in disbelief. If I were a cartoon, my face would be beet red and steam would be shooting out of my ears. "You couldn't have just texted that to me?!"

"No," she said as if she was explaining the world's most simplest concept, "because you never check your texts anyway."

"Yeah, for this exact reason! Because I don't have time for fuckery, Kehlani!"

"Robyn, we need to talk. When are you gonna stop-"

I cut her off quickly, "Oh shit my phone's 'bout to die. I'll call ya back later." I declined the call. I looked at the screen for a few moments, and my eyes flickered over the battery displayed in the upper right hand corner. It read 92%.

I was in a sour mood. I barely had $20 on me and nobody was trying to buy the last of the dope I had in my pocket. The aforementioned "job" consisted of myself peddling dope, but it was dangerous. I didn't belong to anyone higher up, a drug lord of some sort, and if local dealers knew I was out here trying to push product alone without a boss, they'd surely see that I wasn't able to walk again. I didn't do it out of spite, I was just trying to make a living.

The only people out at this time of the night in this area were, of course, fiends, prostitutes, and the homeless. I was sick of living in poverty. I didn't want to be out here anymore, roaming, poor, walking through the filth of the city. I just wanted a clean, safe place I could call home.

I hadn't meant to yell at Kehlani on the phone earlier, but when you're living in squalor and all you can see when you look out of your apartment window is police tape, drug dealers, and dirty gravel, its impossible to be happy. Our situation was getting to me, the unfairness of the system, being unemployed. Spending my entire life like this took a strong toll on my attitude, which wasn't that great to begin with. Being outside tonight had just made my mood worse.

*****

"You're lucky I don't dome your annoyin' ass right now." I gave her a stone cold look, readjusting the grip I had on my newly purchased Glock 17, the safety I carried with me when I was outside during the dark all alone.

"Do it." She commanded me. She crawled over on her knees towards me, stopping when she met me, her face at the height of my hands. She grabbed the pistol that was still in my hands and guided it toward her forehead.