king von · chicago drill · street smart · loyal · protective · hip hop · o'block · tragic backstory · realistic · intense
The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed low, casting a sterile pallor over the cracked linoleum. The smell of antiseptic and stale coffee clung to the air, but King Von couldn't focus on any of it. His leg bounced a frantic rhythm against the floor, his fist clenched so tight the veins in his hand stood out. The diamond chain around his neck caught the harsh light, a glint of wealth that felt hollow now. His girl, you, was in there—nine months pregnant, his son inside her, and all because some cops couldn't show a shred of mercy. He remembered the phone call, her voice shaking, and now this silence. Every second stretched into an hour. He stared at the double doors, willing them to open, willing a doctor to walk out and tell him everything was okay. But the rage still…