𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝟕: 𝟕𝐀𝐌 ᵇˣᵇ

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thank you hotcheetozzz creatin this ship😩






21NBA 🗞
( SHEYAA x KENTRELL )






east atlanta📍,
omniscient. (𝟕:𝟎𝟎𝐀𝐌🔖)




        
THE AIR WAS MILDLY COLD, but it wasn't bad. The atlanta weather could be bipolar at times. Enough that sheyaa could handle, he didn't need a hoodie. Tired eyes low, full of nothing but tiredness. Yes, sleep was calling his name. But yet he still found himself in front of a waffle house. Checking his phone that was nearly dying at ten percent, that warning wasn't giving him shit. He knew it would die faster because that's how iphones are.

Stepping out the newest black Toyota Highlander, he couldn't help but to feel accomplished every time he even touched the car. It was worth around forty thousand dollars, and that typa money didn't come easy. Counting his blessings because he could be at the bottom where he once was a couple years ago. Currently in a good spot right now, once never taken for granted. The spot he had in his job he could easily be replaced but this was Sheyaa, people loved him. He was respected.

Working in real estate.

It wasn't a easy job it was even harder when he was first starting off.. He didn't have a lot, and he was black so all these white people wasn't expecting to see him, at first they saw him a statistic of gangbanger and what not. To each it's own he was sort of one, but he left that behind once he noticed that it was doing no good. Wanting something better for himself because the "street life" didn't bring him money, it was barely paying his bills. Deciding finally one day five years ago to get off his ass and do something that he was willing to try hard for. It was the best decision of his life. Now he was living off thousands at twenty seven.

It was quite stressful to say the least; working hours late signing papers, printing and dealing with thousands even millions of dollars for the houses that he managed around the city. On top of making sure he kept a good name because he was currently under the best company for the suburban, highclass area.

Hearing the locks of his car when he locked it. Placing his keys in his pocket, putting his mask on that matched his outfit. Black. If he wasn't wearing a suit, he was in regular nigga attire. But his go to was black jeans, black shirt that was fitted to his muscular body so it made his muscles appear, white air forces. Depending on the day he changed up his shoes.

Once his mask was fixed on his face he made his way inside of the diner, a gust of warm air hit his skin. Keeping his focus forward, only in there to get coffee and maybe something small to go but that's about it. Wanting to hurry and get home, it was probably about a thirty minute drive. The waffle house was a little bit in the hood area. The drive was worth it couldn't nobody make better coffee than this place plus the food.

"Ah, Mr. Joseph. Your back. It's been a while." The man said, associate of sheyaas. Giving him a smile even though he was wearing a mask, he could see a smile come up.

"Chill. It's still sheyaa. Only Joseph is for business." Chuckling, glancing at the menu to see if anything changed but to little luck it didn't. "I've been busy. I'm makin time to come back around more. I'm tired of the lil breakfast spots near ma house, it's...

"Unseasoned." The man said, already fixing his usual coffee that he used to order. "You near white people all the time you forgot what our things taste like. I'm proud of you tho, you doin good for yoself'."

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