Screw The World

"What did he say, Drake?" You're careful with him. He's dangerous when he's like that. Not dangerous as in about to pop someone in the skull, more dangerous as in surprising you with a visit from the tickle monster.

"He saaaid...", Drake giggles again. "He said I look so hot now, I should try to look even hotter. And not give a shiiiit how the world sees me." He throws his head back and laughs. 40 you bastard, what have you said to this crazy nigga?

You gulp. And what do you think about that?"

"Hmmm." Drake plays with his braids. "I think I wanna know what YOU think big man."

"Why me?" You look at him confused. The absurdity of the conversation aside, why should you decide for him on something like that?

"Well, you always look out for me, even when the others are snickering behind my back. So I feel safe if I put the decision in your hands."

"But how should I know what's best for you in this?"

"Hmmm how abooout... you just take a good look at me? And then tell me as what type you could imagine me as."

You empty your beer. The world spins. Fuck, you definitely had too much.

You squint at Drake, as a vision enters your mind.