the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired

Waka Flocka celebrates his birthday.

rapindustryfanfiction:

[submitted by vonfranz]

Waka Flocka Flame was feeling depressed.

It was his birthday, and he should have been happier about it.

He just couldn’t help it, though.  

He hated birthdays, especially his own. They made him think of death.

Waka wondered what he had done to deserve an entire day devoted to the celebration of his existence. He thought of all the children who had never even had one birthday party, and how much more they would appreciate it than he did.

The whole situation made him immensely unhappy.

He struggled to contain his emotions, but a stubborn tear had welled up in the corner of his eye and run down his cheek despite his best efforts. He would need to pull himself together before Gucci Mane and Gunplay showed up.

They were good friends, but their attempts to cheer him up would only make things worse.  Gunplay always wanted to go out to clubs and talk to girls, and that was the last thing Waka needed.  Gucci, though…

He paused, and sniffed once or twice as he reached for a tissue.

Gucci might understand. 

Waka didn’t know for sure whether he would.

He clambered down onto the futon in his bedroom and reached for the DVD copy of No Country For Old Men that he always watched when he was sad.  He put it into his laptop and waited.

No Country For Old Men always made him feel a little better. He liked to take the power cord from his computer and pretend it was Javier Bardem’s air compressor thing.

The movie was quiet, but engaging enough that Waka could fully immerse himself in it.  He began to set aside his troubles as he listened to Tommy Lee Jones discuss milk.

Waka decided that he needed a glass of milk.

Just as he was getting up, however, the doorbell rang.

He knew it was his doorbell because the chimes played the melody from Hard in the Paint.

Sighing heavily and stuffing a wad of tissues into the pocket of his sweatpants, Waka paused the movie and made his way into the foyer.

He wiped his eyes with the hem of his 1017 Brick Squad t-shirt, took a deep breath to gather himself, and opened the front door.

There was Gucci Mane, holding a present with a big blue bow on it.

He was by himself.

Waka’s puffy, red eyes were hard for him to miss as he stepped inside.

“Is everything all right?” asked Gucci.

“It is now.”

Waka Flocka drew Gucci Mane into a tight embrace, burying his face in Gucci’s soft yellow sweater.

“Everything is all right now,” he replied.

Not all birthdays have to be bad, thought Waka as the two of them hugged and gently swayed underneath the muted lighting of his foyer.

They don’t all have to be bad.

The two rappers spent the rest of the evening getting high and watching reruns of Community.

The only dream I ever have.