The leaves were beginning to turn, and the air held the crispness that heralded the arrival of fall. Homecoming was just a few hours away, and Symere felt a mix of excitement and nerves as she prepared for the day. This year, she decided it would be a celebration not just of school spirit, but of friendship and love as well. She invited her boyfriend, Artist, and her best friends, Mizani and India, to join her for all the festivities that followed.

As Symere applied the final touches of her makeup, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't help but smile at how beautiful she felt, but as she turned away, a nagging feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She dismissed it and headed downstairs.

They gathered in the living room, their laughter filling the house as Artist, with his charming grin, pulled Symere in for a loving kiss.

"You sure you don't wanna go to the bathroom?" He whispered in her ear.

"We have to go." She laughed as she pushed him away.

"C'mon, five minutes." He pulled her towards the bathroom.

"Two minutes, Artist, I'm not playing." She mumbled, pulling down her jeans and panties.

"Shit, that's all I need." He chuckled, sliding into her.

Both of them let out a moan at the feeling of him being inside her. He stroked slowly watching as her face scrunched up in pleasure.

"Fuckkk, yo pussy so good." He moaned as his eyes slowly rolled back.

Symere smirked, pushing her ass back on him quickly. He grabbed her by her neck, pounding into her from behind. Quickies weren't their thing but right now it felt damn good.

"This my pussy, baybeh?" He reached down and rubbed her clit.

"It's yours daddy! I'm gonna cum, baby."

"Cum on my dick. Give me all that shit mama."

Hearing him talk her through it had her cumming everywhere. She screamed feeling her body shake as she laid against the counter.

"Artist." She mumbled.

"I know." He chuckled. "Let's get cleaned up so we can go."

After they finished, they piled into the car, ready to create memories that would last a lifetime.

The campus was alive, draped in school colors and bustling with alumni reminiscing about their glory days. Grills sizzled as tailgate parties sprang to life, laughter danced through the air, and music from the marching band beckoned the crowd toward the stadium. Symere felt a familiar thrill run through her as she navigated through the sea of people, her heart warm with nostalgia.

"Are you ready to fuck shit up?" Artist shouted over the noise, a broad grin plastered across his face. He always elevated her spirits.

"Hell yeah! Let's get some food first."Symere replied, her enthusiasm contagious.

Mizani and India walked ahead, their laughter rising above the chatter. As they approached a nearby booth, Symere snagged Artist's hand, squeezing it lightly, feeling the comfort of his presence. But as they indulged in wings and nachos, a nagging feeling crawled into her consciousness.

It wasn't just the thrill of being back on campus or the dizzying distractions of college memories. It was the way some faces lingered too long in the crowd, the way shadows seemed to flit through the throng like whispers of caution. Symere had temporarily distanced herself from the perils of the drug game, its claws were deep in her history, but even now, she could feel the tendrils of it lurking in the background.

"Sy." India said, nudging her shoulder, "you good? You've gone quiet on us."

"Yeah, just... I feel like we're being watched." Symere confessed, her anxiety pooling in her stomach. "Like, I can't shake the feeling that something's off."

Mizani, ever perceptive, scanned the crowd with his keen eyes. "You see anyone in particular?" He asked, his voice a whisper tinged with concern.

"I don't know. Just... something about the way some people are looking around. It feels wrong." Symere's gaze fell on a small group of men huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. She had seen those faces before, rumors had floated about them being involved in shady dealings, and their presence sent ice through her veins.

Artist took her hand tighter. "We right hea with you baybeh, okay? Relax for me." He said, his voice calm yet firm.

But Symere couldn't shake the feeling, this wasn't just paranoia.

"Symere! I'm glad to see you back on campus."

"Feels good to be back. This is my boyfriend, Artist, and his best friend, Mizani."

"Nice to meet y'all." He nodded. "Good to see you again, India." He licked his lips.

Mizani frowned before pulling India close to him. They weren't official but they both made it clear that they weren't seeing anyone else.

The game began, and they cheered alongside the crowd, but the looming threat in her mind dulled the excitement. Mizani and India didn't seem to feel it, lost in the joy of being surround by their people. For a moment, Symere tried to match their energy, laughing and dancing along to the fight songs, but every glance toward the edges of the stands brought her back to that uneasy feeling.

As halftime arrived, they decided to make their way to the band performing in the courtyard. The atmosphere shifted, the music pulsating in rhythm with the excitement of the crowd. Joy ignited within Symere, and for a moment, she forgot her worries. That was until she caught sight of the men again, closer now.

"Maybe we should go inside." She said quickly to Artist. "I think they're following us."

Artist's brow furrowed. "You're being paranoid, Sy."

"No, I'm serious! I think they know who we are. I think I saw one of them with Glock before." she insisted, her voice rising above the crowd.

Mizani, now frowning, exchanged a wary glance with India. "We should listen to her. If she feels unsafe, we should move."

As they made their way toward the stadium entrance, Symere's heart raced. The booming cheers faded to a distant echo as the group squeezed through the throng of fans, her instincts guiding them through the chaotic sea of merriment.

Just as they reached the entrance, a surge of bodies pushed forward, a careless wave that knocked them apart. Symere felt her hand slip from Artist's grasp and panic gripped her heart.

"Artist!" She shouted, scanning the crowd frantically.

Mizani and India reached for her, urging her to move, but her eyes darted, searching for the familiar figure of her boyfriend. And then she saw them, the men from earlier, eyes locked on her, smirking. The thrill of the game, the laughter of the night, it all faded into an ominous silence in her mind.

"Go! Now!" Symere yelled as she spotted Artist struggling to maneuver back to her.

"Get out my fucking way bruh!" Artist yelled, pushing people out his way.

She seized Mizani and India's arms and they surged into the stadium, weaving through a throng of fans, adrenaline coursing through them.
Just as they crossed the threshold, Symere caught a glimpse of the men pushing through the crowd, intent on following. She felt a jolt of fear as the doors closed behind them.

"You okay, ma?" Artist finally reached her, breathless, concern etched on his face.

Symere nodded, though her heart pounded loudly in her chest. "We're not safe. We need to go."

Artist grabbed her tightly. "We need to get to Chosen right now."

As they slipped into the crowd of unsuspecting fans, Symere realized that homecoming, despite its nostalgic allure, was not just a celebration. There were shadows lurking in the corners, and they might never truly escape the past.

"Stay close to me." She whispered to her friends. They nodded, forming a protective circle as they navigated the chaos, the echoes of laughter and joy mixing with the tension that had become an unwelcome guest.

Glock stood perched atop an old, dilapidated rooftop, the sun slowly fading, casting long shadows over the alley below. He had been waiting for this moment, the opportunity to confront the trio that had eluded him for too long. Artist, Symere, and Mizani, three elusive figures in a world that thrived on chaos. From his vantage point, it felt as though the city itself was holding its breath.

His heart raced as he finally saw them together, huddled in deep conversation, with worried looks on their faces. Glock adjusted his grip on the cold steel of his firearm, the weight of it a familiar comfort. He had trained for this, rehearsing the moments leading up to confrontation in his mind countless times. But even as a seasoned professional, he felt a strange unease settle in his gut.

With a sharp breath, Glock took aim. The world around him narrowed until there was only the target in his sights. He squeezed the trigger, the deafening crack of the gunshot splitting the air. Panic erupted below as Artist, a lanky figure with a canvas of tattoos covering his arms, instinctively ducked.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Lavern and Shirley." Glock laughed.

"Yo, you corny as fuck man. This ain't fucking trapped in the closet!" Artist rolled his eyes.

"I been waiting for this moment. I had to suffer because of you three and now it's my turn to get revenge." He grinned.

Symere's eyes widened in shock as she pushed Artist out of the line of fire, but the chaos quickly escalated. Mizani, ever quick-witted, lunged for cover, his instincts honed from years in the game. Gunfire erupted in response, and the alley became a battlefield.

Glock moved fluidly, firing shot after shot. The adrenaline coursed through him, and in that moment, he felt invincible. But beneath the bravado lies the weight of the gun he wielded, each bullet a potential life lost, a step further into the abyss he had long embraced.

"Artist, get down!" Mizani shouted, pulling him behind a stack of crates. Symere glanced back, assessing their options, determination etched across her features. They were a unit, even when everything around them seemed to crumble.

They were shooting back but things seemed to move too quickly. Glock's focus shifted as he spotted Artist struggling to regain his footing. They became face to face as Glock held a wicked grin on his face.

"Shoot me." Artist smirked, pushing his forehead against the barrel of the gun.

"Tizz, c'mon man, this ain't the way to go out. Think about your girl, she loves you." Mizani pleaded, fighting the men who were holding him and Symere back.

"Enough of the sappy shit! What's yo last words nigga?"

"See you in hell bitch."

Glock aimed once more, intent on ending this once and for all. But just as he prepared to pull the trigger, Symere sprang into action, positioning herself between Glock and Artist in a desperate bid to save her boyfriend.

"Noooo!" Symere shouted, and Glock saw the moment of defiance in his eyes.
Before Glock could react, Symere took the bullet meant for Artist. Time seemed to slow as she staggered back, a look of shock crossing her face before she crumpled to the ground. The shot echoed in Glock's ears, a haunting reminder of the power he wielded and the weight of his choices.

"Symere!" Artist's cry pierced through the chaos, the sound raw and guttural.

He lunged towards her, desperation igniting within him. Mizani moved to cover their retreat, quick to respond to the escalating danger.

He quickly punched the man who was holding him, pulling his gun and shooting him in the head. As his eyes searched for Glock, he tried his best to ignore Symere's painful screams and Artist's crying.

Glock felt a sudden pang of regret, a feeling entirely novel to him. The thrill of the hunt had devolved into something darker, heavier.
In that instant, as he watched Artist cradle Symere in his arms, the gravity of what he had done settled on Glock like a shroud. The adrenaline coursing through him turned cold, and he found himself hesitating.

Mizani took aim, his own firearm steady as he sensed Glock's hesitation. "Step away from them, Glock. This ain't what you want," He said, voice calm but firm.

Suddenly, Mizani shot him in the leg, wanting him to feel some of Symere's pain. He knew he had to end this quick since the police sirens could be heard in the distance.

"Any last words?"

Now it was his time to smirk. It pained him to hear Symere scream and cry. He couldn't sit back and let Glock walk away freely. He was ending this shit once and for all.

"This shit ain't over!" He coughed.

"It is now." Mizani laughed, pulling the trigger multiples times.

Each shot represented how many times he had put up with Glock's antics. The battle was finally over and hopefully the family could enjoy their lives together.

The smoldering anger and heartbreak hung in the air, and for the first time, he questioned the path he had chosen. Would he choose to embrace the dark or seek a new dawn? The choice lay heavy on his heart.

***
Noooo NOT MY BABY 🥺

Poor Artist he's about to have so much on him, I feel sorry for him.

Just a likkle spoiler, Chosen will be finding out the truth next chapter 😬

It won't be pretty either.

I hope y'all been catching the hints bc it's there.