1988

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January 1988

Compton air in January had a strange mix to it-cold, dry, but still somehow carrying heat from the day before. The streets never slept. Not fully. Radios thumped from porches, stray dogs barked from alleyways, and the faint scent of fried something always hung in the wind, even at ten in the morning.

Korina was on her own again, not in a lonely way, but in that I-ain't-got-time-for-people way.

She walked with a slow confidence, head bobbing ever so slightly to the cassette spinning in her Walkman. Anita Baker's "Caught Up in the Rapture" was playing, and for once, the city around her felt like it matched the song. Smooth. Soulful. A little sad. It wasn't the type of music the boys down the block usually blasted, but Korina had never moved to anybody's rhythm but her own.

She mouthed the lyrics, her breath fogging the air in front of her.

"When we met, I always knew... That you would take my heart and run..."

The song pulled something from her. She didn't mean to, but a verse started spilling out of her mouth like muscle memory.

"See I ain't tryna chase no dreams that don't chase me back,Heart stay guarded, but I still get attached.Talk slick, but my pen bleeds honest,I spit what I live-ain't no need to promise."

"Yo..."

She pulled her headphones down.

Cube.

Leaning against a brick wall, hoodie half-zipped, blunt tucked behind his ear again like it was a permanent accessory. He was staring at her with something between a smirk and disbelief.

"You just gon' drop bars mid-walk like that?"

Korina narrowed her eyes. "Wasn't a bar. I was just talkin'."

"That ain't 'just talkin.' You got rhythm in your bones, girl."

She laughed it off and adjusted her bag. "You always eavesdroppin' or just when a girl got headphones on?"

He pushed off the wall and walked alongside her. "Nah, for real. You write like that too?"

"Maybe. Why you care?"

"'Cause Dre always actin' like he the only one with talent in the room. We need more voices." He paused, squinting at her. "And you got one."

That caught her off guard more than she'd admit. Compliments from Cube didn't come easy. They weren't fake-flirty or tossed around to every chick he saw. When he gave props, he meant it.

"Hmm," she said, raising a brow. "Maybe I do. But I'm not lookin' to get caught up in y'all drama. N.W.A. always look two seconds away from fightin'."

"That's passion, not drama," Cube replied. "We real with each other. That's rare."

They turned a corner together. The sidewalk was cracked and uneven, littered with flyers for half-broken shows and ads for gospel revivals. It was a walk full of nothing, but it felt like something. There was a comfort in the silence between them, and yet... there was something bubbling under it too.

As they passed a liquor store, a car pulled up slow.

Black Cutlass. Chrome rims. License plate rattling slightly from the bass bumpin' inside.

Cube smirked before the window even rolled down.

"Here come trouble."

Eazy poked his head out the passenger side, shades on, smirking like the sun rose just to kiss him on the cheek.

"Well, well. If it ain't the most serious man in rap and Miss Poet over here."

Korina tilted her head. "Miss Poet?"

"I heard that verse. Don't front," he said. "You slick with it."

She didn't respond, just gave a small shrug like it didn't faze her. But it did. A little. The fact that Eazy E was listening? That meant something, even if she wouldn't show it.

"Y'all walkin' or what?" Eazy asked, unlocking the back door. "Hop in. We rollin' to the studio."

Cube hesitated for a beat-just enough for Korina to clock it-then opened the front passenger door and got in. Korina slid in the back.

It was quiet for a second. Tense. Not icy, but not warm either.

Then Cube cracked a joke about a mutual friend's horrible new haircut, and Eazy added something slick, and the laughter broke through. Just like that, the energy shifted.

For a second, it felt like brothers again. And Korina, sitting behind them, watched how they moved, how they bounced off each other like they'd known each other since diapers. But every once in a while, both of them would glance at her through the rearview or side mirror. Real quick. Like checking the temperature in the room.

And she caught it. Every. Time.

She didn't say nothin'. She leaned back instead, gazing out the window as the car pulled up to the lot next to the studio. The sun was starting to dip, orange streaks cutting through the sky.

Cube stepped out first. Lit that blunt finally. Told Eazy he'd meet him inside after grabbing something from Dre.

That's when Eazy looked over his shoulder and asked, casual-like, "You stayin' out here or... wanna ride with me a minute?"

Korina blinked. "Where to?"

"Nowhere. Just talkin'. You look like you got a lot on your mind."

Something about the way he said it made her pause. She had a rule about dudes like Eazy. She'd seen how girls fell too quick over some charm and a few compliments. But something about the way he asked-it didn't feel like game.

She hesitated, then slid into the passenger seat.

They drove. Nowhere special. Around the block. Past a 7-Eleven. Down a back street.

It was quiet at first. Then Eazy turned down the music.

"I meant what I said," he said. "You got somethin'. You write different."

Korina smirked. "Y'all keep sayin' that like I ain't been doin' this for years."

"Yeah, but now we hearin' it."

She didn't respond. She just looked at him. Long enough for him to raise a brow.

"What?"

"Nothin'. Just wonderin' how many girls you say that to."

Eazy laughed. "A few. But they ain't had your pen. Or your mouth."

Korina narrowed her eyes.

"Mouth like... talkin'. Damn, girl. You got a dirty mind."

She shook her head, but she was smiling, even as she looked away.

The car rolled to a slow stop in a quiet alley, the only light coming from a busted streetlamp flickering like it was on its last breath.

And for a second-just a second-it felt like something might happen.

Eazy leaned in a little, voice low. "You good?"

"I'm straight."

"You sure?"

Korina's gaze dropped to his hand on the gearshift, then back up to his eyes. He wasn't touching her. But the space between them was getting smaller.

She licked her lips, but the moment snapped when a cat darted across the front of the car, hissing at something unseen.

She pulled back with a laugh. "That's a sign."

Eazy leaned back, raising both hands. "I ain't even do nothin'."

"You almost did."

He smirked. "So did you."

Silence.

Then Korina opened the door. "Come on. Let's get back before Cube start actin' jealous."

"Jealous?" Eazy teased, locking the car.

"He been watching me since this morning."

Eazy shrugged, stepping beside her. "Maybe. Or maybe he just know what happens when a girl like you walk in a room."

Korina didn't answer.

She just walked ahead.

But her pulse was still jumpin'.

Cube's footsteps were quick, sharp-cutting through the silence like a razor. His expression didn't give much away, but Korina saw it. The tight jaw. The sudden change in posture. The air had shifted.

She blinked, watching him walk away down the cracked L.A. sidewalk, hands jammed into his jacket pockets like they were hiding something more than cold fingers.

"You saw that?" she muttered under her breath.

Eazy was already leaned up against his lowrider, one ankle crossed over the other, hands deep in his hoodie pockets. He'd been watching the whole exchange, but he wasn't asking no questions. Just chewing slow on a toothpick and squinting after Cube like he was trying to read a code in his back.

"Yeah," Eazy finally said. "Somethin' in the air tonight."

Korina crossed her arms, feeling that awkward flutter between her ribs. She didn't like how Cube dipped. That wasn't just him needing space-that was a man with something he didn't wanna say.

"Maybe I should've said something," she murmured.

"Nah." Eazy nodded his chin toward his passenger side. "C'mon. Let's talk."

She hesitated for half a beat, glancing once more toward Cube's disappearing shadow... then opened the door and slid in.

Inside the car.

The warmth from the heater made her sigh as the door clicked shut. It was calm in here-dim orange streetlight pouring through the windshield, the quiet hum of the city beyond the glass. Korina's fingers tapped the door out of habit, her nails making a soft rhythm against the leather.

Eazy leaned over, turning the ignition halfway. Music didn't start right away-just the faint crackle of the radio station searching for a signal.

"You worried 'bout him?" he asked.

She turned her head. "You're not?"

Eazy shrugged, eyes still forward. "Cube been actin' off. But I don't press nobody unless they press me."

Korina gave a short laugh. "He probably thinks we pressin' each other."

That got a smirk outta Eazy.

"Are we?" he said.

She didn't answer right away. Her eyes dropped to her lap, where her hands rested-fingers curling into the sleeves of her hoodie.

"I don't know what we're doin'," she admitted, voice quiet. "I know what it looks like. And I know what I've been feelin'."

Eazy finally turned to look at her, full-on now, his eyes searching hers.

"Then stop frontin'. What you feelin'?"

Korina bit her lip, looking at him like she was deciding whether to give him the full truth or just enough to hold him off.

"I feel like... you're trouble," she said. "But the kind that keep callin' me back."

He laughed under his breath. "Yeah... I been trouble since the sandbox, girl. But you? You dangerous too. Got me thinkin' 'bout you at the wrong times."

Korina smiled despite herself. "Like when?"

"Like studio sessions. Rehearsals. Even during interviews when I'm tryna look professional and shit," he said with a grin. "You pop up in my head, and I forget what the hell I was sayin'."

The confession was smooth, but the honesty in his tone made her chest tighten.

"I didn't mean to mess with anyone's head," she whispered.

"But you did," he replied. "You walk in a room, and shit changes. Energy shifts. Cube ain't stupid. He saw that."

She looked out the window again, silent.

"I think he might've liked me," she said eventually. "Or still does."

Eazy raised a brow. "So you feel guilty?"

Korina shook her head slowly. "Not guilty. Just... conflicted."

They sat in that for a minute. The music finally kicked in, soft R&B-quiet keys, low bass, a woman's voice singing heartbreak in the background.

Eazy leaned forward, elbows on the steering wheel. His face was serious now.

"Look," he said. "You don't owe me shit. I ain't gon' force anything. But don't sit here actin' like this ain't real."

He turned to her again. "You feel it too. That pull. Every time we talk, it's like somethin' gettin' hotter."

Korina met his gaze, lips parting like she wanted to speak-but he moved in first.

Their lips met.

The kiss wasn't hungry or rushed. It was slow, steady, deliberate. It tasted like all the questions she didn't know how to ask-and all the answers he never needed to say.

When they pulled back, Korina blinked, a little dazed.

"I-"

"You okay?" Eazy asked, his voice rough now, like gravel over velvet.

She nodded. "Yeah. That was..."

"Yeah," he echoed.

They stayed close, inches apart, breath mingling.

She exhaled, then laughed softly. "So what now? We keep flirtin' till somebody makes a mistake?"

Eazy reached over, brushing her hair off her face. "Or we stop playin' and just do what we want."

"Mm." She leaned in again-another kiss, deeper this time. His hand found her thigh, resting there, heat crawling up from where he touched. Her own hand slid across his chest, feeling the quick rhythm of his heart.

Eazy whispered against her lips, "You drivin' me crazy."

She smirked. "You kinda like it though."

"You have no idea."

The kisses came quicker now-heat building, tension tightening in the small space between them. Her hoodie slipped off one shoulder. His hands were starting to roam, lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw to the curve of her neck.

"You sure 'bout this?" he asked, voice almost a growl.

Korina froze for just a second.

Then sat back, lips still parted, eyes wide.

"I-I can't," she said, pulling her hoodie back up. "Not here. Not now."

Eazy blinked, breathing heavy, hands still on her hips.

"You sure?" he asked again, softer.

She nodded. "If I stay, I won't stop."

He watched her climb out the car-slowly this time. No panic. No shame. Just... control. Her cheeks flushed, lips red, but her eyes clear.

She leaned in through the open window. "But that kiss? That second one? Don't forget it."

Eazy leaned back in his seat, watching her walk away like a dream slipping through his fingers.

"Shit," he muttered. "I'm in trouble now."