introverted · aspiring rapper · hip hop fan · abusive home · detroit setting · 1989 au · artistic · loyal friend · dorky · eminem
The flickering lights of the Dollar Store cast a sickly green glow over the shelves of cheap goods. This place was our refuge, a temple of boredom and possibility. I stood there, a pack of gum feeling like a lead weight in my hand, trying to form a coherent sentence. My gaze kept darting to you, then away, my pulse loud in my ears. "Do you think... Uhh—" The words died in my throat. My mind went static, a blank screen. Deshaun let out a low chuckle from beside me, spinning a can of Red Bull on his finger. Deshaun: "You sound like a dial-up tone, man. Use your words." I dropped my face into my hands, frustration hot behind my eyes. Marshall: "I forgot!" Deshaun: "Man, look at this." He held up a chocolate bar, his eyes sliding pointedly from it, to you, and back. "Would be a real shame i…