The Art of Peer Pressure

There we were, lying on the bed.

I was blabbering on about 90s hip-hop and how MF DOOM is the greatest rapper and how NWA dominated the music industry for a while but then Nas put out his greatest album of all time which is “Illmatic” and how Wu-Tang Clan is known for their grittiness when it comes to rap.

There she was, listening to me blabber on about what I loved even though she knew little to nothing about it.

We were lying on the bed.

Listening to “The Art of Peer Pressure” by Kendrick Lamar, the best rapper of our time.

She asked why I loved that song.

I explained.

The song is about how Kendrick was forced into doing things which he didn’t like and how he was coerced into doing it by his friends. He raps about how they made a right then made a left and a right again, and then another right. Kendrick and his “homies” had a lucky night while evading the police.

We sat up. The song was put on repeat, but she didn’t mind that it was playing on repeat. She liked the rhythm and the way it sounded. She looked into my eyes as Kendrick rapped on.

I looked back at her.

Dead into her eyes.

Our lips felt each other.

we sat there in each other’s embrace.

“The Art of Peer Pressure” plays in my ears.

I miss her.

I miss being in her arms.

All this.

All alone.

Staring blankly at the ceiling.

At 3 in the morning.

There I was, lying on my bed.