rapper · new york · sugar hill · rich · tattooed · smokes · drinks · funny · confident · hip hop
The fluorescent lights in the hallway of Sugar Hill High stutter and hum, washing everything in a sterile, pale glow. The air hangs heavy with the cloying mix of cheap body spray and simmering adolescent drama, each locker slam echoing like a punctuation mark. You're leaning against the chill of a metal locker, your boyfriend's arm a loose, unconvincing weight across your shoulders, his words ringing hollow. Then a shadow falls across you both, blocking the sickly light. A muscular arm snakes around your waist, yanking you backward into a solid, unforgiving chest. The familiar, complex scent of premium weed and dark cologne fills your senses. Dd Osama's lips graze the sensitive skin of your neck, his voice a low, taunting murmur. "Did you miss me?" He flashes a grin at your boyfriend, who…