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Being shot in itself can be a very terrifying experience for anyone. Being shot for the very first time ever triples that terror.
The last thing Playa remembered was successfully rescuing thee Hip-Hop/R&B's sensational diva Aisha's sister; along with two other women that got themselves mixed up into the mess. Quite naturally, Playa received much deserved praise from the ladies. It wasn't necessary in Playa's books, but it was expected. What Playa wasn't expecting was to get popped by the last dying breath of the Pimp owner of Tee'N'Ay's; the one that held them hostage and was kidnapping women in the first place. One minute of just standing there, being showered with the un-wanted, clingy, flirtatious nature of the girls. The next? A burning sensation in their shoulder blade. Dropping to the floor with those forever frozen shocked and horrified expressions from the girls who had witnessed Playa getting shot. It didn't help that their screaming for help made the situation much more dire. It was like a slow, slow burn. Playa silently insisted they were fine with their beady, pleading dark brown eyes. However, Playa's shaking arms and soft whimpers stated otherwise. They desperately tried clinging on to consciousness, but alas, the dark spots that clouded their vision won after a while.
Now, here they were. Being disturbed out of a peaceful dream by the constant beeping of the monitor.
Wait a minute.
Beeping of the monitor?
Playa's eyes went from slowly fluttering open to shooting open. Their wide, panicked eyes scanned the room. The sluggish, dazed demeanor quickly wore off. They were on sudden high alert, pulse quickening by the second and stomach turning into knots. To top all of this off, their injured shoulder hurt like hell and were wrapped up in nothing but heavy bandages. Playa could barely move without feeling that sharp, stinging, burning pain. Very slowly they would take in their surroundings and would come to realize…this definitely wasn't their house. What made it worse was, their clothes were gone and were now replaced by the dainty hospital gown. Not a strap to their name. Playa only hoped whoever grabbed their clothes kept the mention of their concealed piece on the down low. To try and calm themselves down somewhat, they began taking deep, slow breaths. Something that would work if only for the moment.
Their pulse would soon raise sky high again as there was a knocking on the door. Being in this gang life has taught Playa to expect the un-expected. Anyone could be behind that door. A Vice King, a Carnales—A fucking Westside Roller! Word on the street spread fast. No doubt the leaders of the rival gangs heard of what happened to the rising Third Street Saints' little trouble maker in the making and sent one of their goons to finish them off. Playa had half a mind to hurriedly duck behind the bed to try and conceal themselves. But what good does that do? Without a proper weapon, not to mention all the tubes and wires hooked up to them and the intense pain in their shoulder, they were a sitting useless meat target. Ripe for the pickings.
Sweat ran down Playa's temple, as their dark brown eyes steadily glared at the door. They bit their lower lip and gripped the sheets so tightly, their knuckles turned a lighter color as opposed to their brown complexion. What would put Playa's mind at ease from all the negative thoughts swarming their head was when finally, the door opened. Playa was immediately greeted with purple. Instantly, Playa sighed and relaxed up against the pillow that cushioned their back. They released the tight grip they had on the white sheets of the stiff, uncomfortable hospital bed. Immediately, a smile graced Playa's thick lips and they waved slightly to the three men that came barging in—With the exception of one girl. One that Playa was surprised even showed up considering her position right now.
"Awe, thank fuck, man!" Dex was the first one to let out a sigh of relief, taking his hands out of his baggy jeans pockets and plopping them to his sides. "We thought you was a goner!"
"Leave it to Johnny to almost get one of us killed." Spoke up Lin bitterly, removing the dark sun glasses from her eyes. Playa raised an eyebrow. It must of been to try and conceal her identity as best as she could.
"Ay! It wasn't my fault the fuckin' kid got 'imself shot!" Johnny seemed to be in one of his moods, throwing his hands in gesture to Playa.
"But you sent him alone on his first ev'ah real mission just 'cause you wanted some pussy." Troy states rather coldly, walking around Playa's bed and going to make himself comfortable on the brown leather couch by the huge window. "Real fuckin' mature, Gat—"
"For fuck's sake! I fuckin' get it! Y'all can stop chewing my ass out for it!" Johnny hissed, going to throw his hands out before letting them plop back down to his side to show his frustration.
"Here. I know men don't usually like flowers, but I figured I'd get you some anyways." Lin had walked over to Playa and handed them a white porcelain vase. It was filled with purple and blue violets. Whether they were dyed or not, Playa strangely fancied them.
"...." Playa looked to Lin and smiled, before going to plop the vase on the table stand next to their bed.
"You're welcome." Said Lin simply, going to stuff her hands in the pockets of her black trench coat. Her expression never changed. She always wore that same stoic expression even Playa themselves usually wore.
"Damn. This place got some crummy ass fuckin' channels." Stated Johnny, having taken a seat next to Troy and found the remote. He began steadily flipping through channels. "They ain't got no Jerry Springer or Tyler Perry movies up in this bitch?"
"Aaaanyhoo," Dex pulled up one of the chairs next to Playa's bed, going to take a seat. "Despite ya circumstances of endin' up here, you'll be glad to hear that the girls are safe and back home. Thanks to you." Dex smiled at Playa.
"...." Playa nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief. Even if the girls were a bit pushy, they did Playa a huge favor in return. Getting them medical help as quickly as they could before they bled out on the floor. Playa would then extend their glare to Dex, the gleam in their eyes still showing a hint of something pleading almost. Dex chuckled a bit and shook his head.
"Yes. Aisha extended her thanks to you too." Replied Dex.
"In more ways than one, I might add.." Johnny snickered, before Troy smacked his lips and reached over.
"Gimme da damn remote, Gat! You done flipped through ten fuckin' channels an' didn't pick not a damn one yet!" Troy began pressing the next button. He would settle for what was on this channel. Much to Johnny's obvious displeasure.
"Ain't nobody wanna watch no fuckin' redneck Pawn Shop, Troy!" Johnny snatched the remote back and continues flipping through channels.
Lin sighed heavily, going to rub her temples. Though she missed being in the company of her crew members (and she'll never admit it aloud), she particularly didn't miss the constant childish bickering that came with it. Still, nothing was worse than the constant flirting that she had endured during her time being undercover with the Westside Rollerz.
"I swear..I turned my back on you boys for about two weeks and already you're all at each other's throats.." Lin shook her head.
"Awe, c'mon Lin! Don't act like you didn't miss us!" Johnny glared at Lin with a sly smile.
"Besides, how is that operation comin' along?" Troy inquired, turning his attention to the only female of the group.
"It's comin' along alright…" Lin sighed. "Not as efficient as I want it to…but something's better than nothing right now.."
"Mm," Dex nodded. "Maybe Playa can help you with that." Commented Dex, before turning to Playa.
"...." Playa turned their attention to Dex. They cleared their throat lightly before gesturing to the wires that were connected to them.
"Oh, my bad." Dex turned back to glare at Lin. " After Playa gets outta here."
"Fine by me." Lin shrugged nonchalantly.
"As long as it don't involve gettin' shot ov'ah some pussy, I'm sure Playa'll be down." Commented Troy, earning Johnny's undivided and aggressive attention.
"Uh—Excuse me muffucka—" Johnny was cut off.
"Wasn't talkin' to you, Johnny." Troy sighed, rubbing his finger in his ear and trying to ignore the other man. Unlike Dex who was more susceptible to argue with Johnny, Troy wasn't really interested.
"Well who da fuck you was talkin' to then, pussy?!—"
"A'ight, a'ight y'all! Don't go startin' no shit in here." Dex pipes up, going to lean back in his chair and glared at the two.
"Who? Me? Nah," Johnny waved Dex off dismissively. "I ain't startin' shit. It's Troy who's tryin' ta start shit an' not finish it." Johnny then glared back at Troy, who only flipped Johnny off. "A'ight. Keep on muffucka—I'll snap that finger off your goddamn hand!"
"Yeah, Johnny.." Troy sighed, already beginning to rub his throbbing temple from having this guy constantly trying to pick an argument.
"I'm serious! I don't give a damn where we are. Hospital, parking lot, police department—A goddamn church ! Keep runnin' yo mouth around me." Johnny pushed, only earning a sigh from Troy.
"Mhmm."
"Oh—This muffuckas startin' to try my patience." Johnny leaned back on the couch and folded his arms, bouncing his leg. He glanced over at Dex. "Dex, betta come get'chya boy."
"N*gga, I ain't gettin' nobody!" Dex shifted in his seat, going to sit more on his side and then lean up against the right arm of the chair now.
"So you pickin' his side too, eh?" Johnny sat forward, going to lace his fingers together and glared at Dex from over his signature shades.
"No. What I'm sayin' is, y'all need to sort that shit out y'all selves. I'm stayin' outta it." Dex turned his attention to the TV, which was now playing some action movie Johnny had previously settled on that was decent.
"Lin?" Johnny turned to Lin. Lin only rolled her eyes at him.
"Fuck off, Johnny.."
"Playa? C'mon!" Johnny threw his hands up on defeat before letting them fall to his lap.
"...." Playa pinched the bridge of their nose with their good hand and sighed.
While they enjoyed the others' company (especially Lin's, due to her not being around much these days), it was getting stale. Between Troy's snarky comments, Johnny's temper, Dex's pushyness, and Lin's attitude, it was only making the pain worst. Even if their intentions were pure.
These muffuckas had to get the hell out so Playa could get some sort of rest…