24 Hours to Live · Tupac

❷❷: unpaused fate

❝ I pray to the Lord but he ignores me, unfortunately. ❞

[9:52 PM]

HOURS PASSED, AND Lena spent her evening with her Television. It wasn't like she only watched TV, she's actually been doing laundry and cleaning up to keep herself distracted. It was done in silence, because Tupac kept emerging from the radio every five seconds it seemed.

Speaking of him, he did call once he reached the hotel, but he kept it brief. It kept Lena feeling antsy, she continued to push the feeling away. I'm overreacting, she ponders, I always do.

She wanted to get out of the house and do something but there wasn't much to do with certain spots still trying to regain power. It wasn't even a nice day outside, it's muggy, grey, and windy. The news lady interrupts the commercials, and also interrupts Lena's train of thought.

"Just in-a few minutes ago we received news from sources that a huge fight broke out at The London NYC not too long ago. Witnesses speak on it, stating that rapper Tupac Shakur was one of many involved in the bloody outbreak. Unfortunately, all suspects fled before Cops arrived to the scene. Complaints-"

That was all it took for Lena to stand to her feet and get a pair of Nike's on, along with her light leather jacket. The hotel wasn't a short drive, so she had to hurry. Apparently, since they all left, she'd just have to ask where they ran off to. Lena gets into her truck, her fingers rapidly dialing Pac's number.

The fight was already a scare itself, and the last thing she's going to do is stare at the television until the news tell her exactly what she does not want to hear.

[10:25 PM]

As Lena pulls up to the commotion-filled hotel thirty minutes later, she doesn't park her car, knowing that she'll earn a ticket. A couple of security guards stands by the revolving door, "Everyone stand clear!"

Nosey onlookers tries to get a glimpse inside, others wanted some television time as different reporters were setting things up to broadcast. Lena manages to slide through pedestrians, stopping at the front. The bulky man holds his hand out, "You'll have to stand right there. No one is allowed in, and no one is allowed out."

Taking a look inside, officers were talking with the workers as they filled paperwork out. Lena tries a second time, "I-I just have a question though."

"We don't know anything ourselves," he says. "If that's what you wanted to know."

Now, she can't just ask where he went, she'd appear as a crazed fan. That doesn't matter at this moment though, all she wants to do is get a hold of him. It looked like no one genuinely knew the fighters' whereabouts, otherwise, they'd be on their tail by now.

"Damn it," Lena curses, trying to keep her cool as she turns away, facing the crowd of people.

Reporters get the wrong idea, thinking that she had just came out of the building. Well, she had two bruised cheeks, a re-busted lip and bandage under her eye, who wouldn't think that Lena was involved?

"No, you can't ask me any questions," Lena shoos off the three eager people. "I wasn't there."

It was freaking her out, all of the commotion and such, so she returns to her truck right as her phone rings. She answers quickly, putting it to her ear. "Hello? Where you are you?"