Welcome to #HipHopFanfic, where we take the biggest gossip headlines in hip-hop this week and re-imagine how exactly they went down. This week we have remember the struggle Drake has to endure last week when Big Blue Nation let him down. ——Kate Shapiro
Drake was so mad he had to pop bottles with people from UConn instead of those five nineteen year-olds from Kentucky. He sat in the Ghost Lounge with them, holding a bottle of Ciroc languidly while a stripper gave him a so-so lap-dance. Ugh. He wasn’t looking at her, though, he was looking out at the expanse of downtown Dallas.
How could anybody be happy that UConn won another national title? It was like rooting for Macklemore to win another Grammy. Drake looked around at the UConn team and their jubilant faces: pouring bottles of champagne on their classmates and smoking cigars. This may well be the best day of their lives, but Drake, Drake was pissed. It just reminded him that the world was unfair and whoever he wanted to win, never did.
Drake put his AmEx black card in a waitress’s bra and ordered more bottle service, “More strippers!” he told her. “And bring some Reece’s Pieces, too” he added. They didn’t serve Reece’s Pieces at Ghost Lounge but they would get them especially for Drake. He just wanted to eat his feelings. He slapped the waitress’s ass and thought about calling Rihanna for some phone sex later. This blew. Go Kentucky!