the devil in miami • xxxtentacion

011

to my two faithful readers, ily.

let me know if I should make chapters shorter so then there can be more, or should i leave them.

we switching it up this chapterrrr, probably won't do this pov again bc i don't think im going to like it. so enjoyyy <3

edited( very lightly)
-Robb in the mm
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Robb

Thursday

12:40pm

After I hung up on Nova, I silence her notifications. I have never had any bitch piss me off as bad as she does. It's like she's needy and independent at the same time and she just picks and chooses when when she wants to be either.

I toss my phone on the bed, changing into my clothes for the day— a plain white tee with black sweat shorts. I finish the outfit off with a few gold chains and some white air force ones. As soon as I finish getting dressed, I hear a knock at the door. I make my way over to it, opening it up.

"wassup nigga, you ready?" I hear brando yell as he walks into the room.

"every room you walk into, you the loudest one."  I say, sitting down on the bed putting my watch on.

"and so the fuck what" he says, sitting at the desk.

I shake my head, standing up again, grabbing my book bag, putting a few essentials in it that I might need. I put the bag on my back, making my way to the door.

"come on nigga." I laugh, walking out of the door.

***

We walk into the studio and I instantly let out a sigh of relief. I drop my bag by the soundboard and sit in one of the open chairs in front of it. I lean back in the chair facing Brando who was sitting on the couch, rolling a backwood.

"So what we starting with?" I ask, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. I stare at my phone screen, watching Nova call me for the 20th time today.

"It was don't matter to me." he leans back on the couch, watching me stare at my phone.

"Just answer shorty''He says,

"Hell nah" I say, "she gon be good"

he shakes his head laughing

"Aight Nigga, that's yo ass, not mine" he says, pulling a lighter from out of his bag, lighting his wood, inhaling the smoke.

"She not on shit forreal." I say, turning around and turning the sound board on, fixing the controls.

He gets up, passing me the half smoked blunt before walking into the booth. I take the blunt from him, putting it in between my lips grabbing two styrofoam cups putting one up under the other, pulling a full bottle of codeine with promethazine out of my book bag pouring about 4 ounces  into the cup, filling the rest of the cup up with pineapple fanta.

I sit the cup on the side table next to me, finally taking the blunt from my mouth after inhaling it some, starting the track for Brando after he signals to me that he's ready.

As he starts rapping on the track, I hear the door open behind me. Turning around, I see three girls walk and just sit down on the couch, watching him rap in the booth. I turn back around, focusing on what I'm doing.

The song eventually ends and he comes out the booth.

"How was that?" he asks, sitting on the arm of the couch, side hugging one of the girls that walked in.

"It was cool, I think you should redo the second verse tho, it seemed kinda choppy" I say, turning around, instantly making eye contact with the girl in the middle.