"Thank you." I say as his eyes flicker open in the chair across from me. He looks confused and then looks around trying to gather his thoughts. He wipes drewl from his mouth and checks his phone.

"Any time." He answers.

"I think I'm going to head back to Albany. I have a class at 12. I'll come back and pick you up if you need me to." He says kindly.

I get up as he does and walk with him out to the hospital lobby.

"I'll be okay. I think I'm going to stay here for a while. I need to find out how Flex is doing and I want Mom to see me when she wakes up." I respond.

Devin stretches his hands out and I fit my small body into his arms and feel the warmth surround me.

"Thank you. For real. I really don't know what I'd do without you Dev." I mumble on his shirt that smells just like laundry detergent.

"What are friends for?" He says into my hair. He pulls away and takes his keys from his pocket.

"So we're friends now?" I ask with a childlike smile.

"I still kind of hate you, but yes. I consider you my friend." He salutes me and then walks through the hospital exit. As soon as he is outside I see the flashes of a camera. Paparazzi had stayed out in the cold all night waiting for information on Flex.

I shake my head and head back to my Mother's room upstairs when Dr. Ben stops me.

"Do you know the contact number for any of Mr. Brian's family? We can't seem to get in touch with anyone close to him.

I think back on how much I really know about Flex and shake my head. I was just now learning his real name so that should show just how much I knew. I've never heard him speak of any family members or even close friends aside from those in the entertainment business. Did he have anyone?

"I'm sorry. I don't know any of his family members. I think myself and my Mother might be as close as you can get to that." I say static.

I think back to Trev who I would say is Flex's adopted son but I knew they wouldn't accept that. And I knew that even if they did, it's not like they would call him out of prison and send him to the hospital.

"We can usually find a past relative in our books but since you are the closest we have to it, i'm going to give you the information. Is that, okay?" He asks.

I nod my head and before I can worry about his lack of a family, I begin to worry about his condition.

"Mr. Brian is in critical condition and we have been struggling to save his life for hours now. He received two gunshots in total, both in his abdomen. The bullet that pierced his right lumbar region has been taken out. The second bullet is lodged into very important tissue around his stomach and this is where the complication lies."

Dr. Ben continues to speak but I can no longer hear him. The world around me goes mute and I know that in seconds I will begin to cry but I try my best to let him finish.

Even though I can no longer understand what he is saying.

I imagine Mom waking up to the one man she has ever looked at since my Father got put in prison and finding out that he might not make it. I imagine her pulling through her head injury and gunshot wounds to find out that he couldn't pull through.

I imagine breaking down on stage performing songs that he made the beats to.

I imagine the uproar of his fans stemming all the way back from the 90s when he produced his first Grammy winning track.

I imagine Trevon falling back into his depression behind those prison cells.

"Ms. Little?" I hear Dr. Ben's voice distantly and I look into his eyes.

"Doctor?" I force the word from my mouth.

"Yes?"

He responds but his face stares at mine like I am an alien. There is pity in his confusion but there is fear as well. And I wonder momentarily if the fear is from the crazy look in my eyes or if it is from the fear of Flex's slim chance at survival.

"No bullshit. Don't sugarcoat this for me, okay?" I begin. I speak through my tears and uneven breaths.

"Is he going to die?" I ask.

The Doctor pauses for a moment. He's been asked this many times before, I can tell.

I can tell because he responds in a way that still does not give me a final answer.

"We are doing everything we can."

"No bullshit. I'm a big girl. I can handle bad news. Please don't let me get my hopes up." I sniffle and look at him seriously as he looks back at me with empathy.

"There is a possibility that he will make it." Dr. Ben touches my shoulder lightly but it feels like 50 pounds.

"Don't lose hope, Chanel." He adds.

"No bullshit?" I ask, glaring at him as though I want him to promise.

"No bullshit. Pray if you do that, keep your hopes up if that's what gets you through. I'll update you as soon as I can."

I run my fingers through my hair and wish that Devin hadn't left.

As I head back to the room, I see the door half open.

Pookie sits on the chair by Mom.

His face swollen and dirty.

But he's smiling.

He's smiling so big that my stomach sinks to the bottom of my feet.

"Empress!" He greets. His hands up in the air, his voice too loud, and his smile too big.

"Pookie, when did you get here?" I ask walking closer to him so he wouldn't be as loud as he is. Mom doesn't budge on the bed.

As I near him, I smell something foul. He pushes himself sloppily off of the chair and stumbles to me, arms outstretched.

I notice then, that the smell is some kind of strong liquor.

"Are you drunk?" I ask disgusted.

I push him off of me, the stench stinging my nose.

"I did it." He says effortlessly. He shrugs.

His smile is still bright.

I stare at him motionless and he laughs in the silence. He laughs and nudges my shoulder.

"You don't look happy, be happy." He sings.

"You did what?" I spit firmly. I close the room door and turn the lock.

"What you meannnn? I did IT." He laughs again.

"IT! IT!" His hands flare around, pointing at nothing in particular.

He sticks his hands in his pockets when I remain speechless and leans against the wall to stop himself from falling.

I take him by his arm and sit him down in the chair across from Mom. The one where Devin once was.

His head sways back and he chuckles a little more.

"Yo, fuck all them pussy ass niggas man. Ain't take me long to take out Julius main mans."

I grit my teeth and step away from him.

"Please, stop talking." I say aggressively.

As my heart beats into my throat I pace the room.

"Pookie, what the fuck did you do?" I ask with nothing but complete terror in my voice.

"I clapped him back." Pookie laughs.

"And then you came HERE? You killed someone and then came to the hospital of the person they just shot?" I want to scream. I want to rip his head off.

I want to be more angry than I am.

I don't want to feel the tinge of momentary happiness that comes with revenge. I don't want it.

"Nah, I had a few shots with Francis and THEN came to the hospital." He corrects.

"You think this is funny?" I ask infuriated but he only smiles and winces at his upper eye that I can tell was once bleeding.

"Pookie what were you thinking? What are you going to do? What the fuck?" I suddenly feel hot, I feel the sweat beginning to crease my forehead. And then my vision blurs like I'm about to pass out and my hands cannot stay steady.

"You're about to get a fucking life sentence at Rikers." I throw my words at him and hope he understands how stupid he is.

"Let's hope Trisha calls me den. Hm?" He throws back.

"Do not do that to me right now!"

"You should be happy I killed that nigga. He ain't even want the money, he just wanted to hurt Trevon. They THOUGHT you were there. They went after YOU!" He spits back.

I freeze.

"Yea, done chattin?" He glares at me.

"They couldn't find you, the next best thing was Flex. Trevon's Ma was workin. They were lookin for ya ass. So my bad for tryna protect my second fuckin family. Francis is back in town for the holidays. He wanted revenge, I jumped in. It was great timing really. Them punk ass bitches had it comin."

My body is numb and I cannot move. I cannot blink or breathe.

"Man, I'm out this bitch. Holla at me when she wake up." His words are low and far it seems as my thoughts cave in on themselves.

I hear him kiss Ma's hand.

He brushes against me on his way out of the room and minutes later, I can still feel my arm tingling and heavy, like my muscles are strained. Like I'm the one that was holding the gun.

They were after me.

Of course they were after me.

I knew they wouldn't let Julius die without attempting to avenge him and even if he died from medical complications, he still died partly because Trevon beat him senseless. A jail sentence wasn't revenge enough. I watch the steady rise and fall of Ma's chest and try to match my breathing with hers.

I can't cry anymore because I can't pick the problem I want to cry about.

I can't cry because I won't know if I am crying out of pain, worry, sadness or fear.

They were looking for me.

I think of my small self, defenseless against their guns. One bullet would have done it. I would have went down easily. Probably barely put up a fight.

I wish they found me.

I wish they found what they were looking for and unloaded their bullets accordingly.

Then Ma would be awake and Flex wouldn't be fighting for his life.

Then Pookie wouldn't have had to kill someone cold blooded. A part of me knows that Pookie would have killed for me either way.

Trisha would have went with him this time.

Trev would have found a way to break out of prison and raise them from the dead and kill them again.

I try to imagine Flex's big smile and dreads, long down to his chest. I try to imagine his sarcasm but effortless Father figure and good intentions and support over my life. The way Ma looked at him when they were dancing in the living room. His arms around her like no one ever meant that much to him.

And maybe no one ever did...

He has to live.

He has to live for her.

_________________________________

"Marvin Brian, known by many as radio DJ and Grammy winning producer, Flex of the Firebox Records was gunned down Wednesday night at his Girlfriend's house in Brownsville, New York. The Girlfriend of Mr. Brian is said to be the Mother of upcoming female rap artist, Chanel Little who has recently been signed to Atlantic Records. Both Mr. Brian and Ms. Ingo were shot multiple times in what Police are calling a desperate robbery. The first Officer on the scene, is here with more details. " The dark haired brunette in a red blazer disappears as a white officer takes the screen.

"Chanel just began to climb the charts, you know? She's making money now and that kind of news doesn't take too well around here. Our guess is that they were looking for money she might have been sending to her family. The front window is broken, and the window is close enough to the door, where they can turn the lock and get in right after. We feel that initially this was suppose to be a quiet hit and run. Get the valuables and then leave as fast as possible, but it didn't end up that way when they realized that people were in the house." He says looking into and away from the camera.

The camera moves from him and switches to my home that was now sectioned off with caution tape and cones. People from the neighborhood gather around and stare at the camera, the children make funny faces as if nothing new has happened. Momentarily the screen flashes back to the brown hair reporter.

"Though Police are saying that the attackers were initially going for money, investigators are linking this shooting to a pass incident involving gang violence in the neighborhood and the arrest of another artist who worked with Flex for some time this summer. Investigators believe that whoever broke into the house, broke in with the intention to kill. Detective Rob Stewart is here with more details."

"There are signs of struggle in the house. Broken glass, torn down shelves. It's hard to tell if they even looked for any money or valuables. ." He says.

"There were different bullet shells found. We know that even though five shots were fired, only three were heard and confirmed by many neighbors. This would mean that a silencer was used for the other two shots. Whoever was not holding the gun with the silencer, initially wasn't suppose to shoot. It can be possible that the other person who fired the audible shots did so out of panic or defense. According to where the shells were found, you can tell that the bullets that came from the silencer have shells that landed in close proximity to each other. The other bullets were scattered throughout the house, like the shooter ran a few feet before taking the shot. We're still sorting through all the details." The Officer concludes.

The news reporter comes back on the screen, her eyebrows raised as if this was the most appealing story she had ever heard.

"Fans all over the world are praying for Flex and his leading lady in these times. A large group of fans are also praying for Chanel as this must be hard times for someone just beginning their career in this industry. As the story unfolds, we will bring the updates to you. This is Channel 4 News, thank you for tuning in."