𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐒 : 𝐂𝐇. 𝟑

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BRITISH MAHOGANY RACER.
CHICAGO, IL
SEPTEMBER 2019.

"You stole 250 dollars from me bruh," British yelled at Megan, "you bodeen as hell, g! You coulda asked me for that shit but instead you stole from me? That's low as hell!" British had just came home from work at the tattoo parlor she worked at as...

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"You stole 250 dollars from me bruh," British yelled at Megan, "you bodeen as hell, g! You coulda asked me for that shit but instead you stole from me? That's low as hell!" British had just came home from work at the tattoo parlor she worked at as a piercer and receptionist. She was about to add the money she made from her check to the money in the sock under mattress, and when she came home, she noticed 250 dollars was missing from her stash.

"Ain't nobody stole shit from you, lil girl!" She yelled back standing in the doorway in her head scarf. "Ion need shit from you!"

"Obviously the fuck you do!" British yelled back stuffing the wad of money in her bra. "You shiesty as hell for that, Meg! You know my lil brother birthday and shit tomorrow, that's so fucked up, bro!" She confided in Meg about a lot of things, they weren't real close friends but they were cool and they were roommates so they shared a lot with each other.

"I'm not finna argue with you, British," Megan sucked her teeth, "I told yo ass I ain' stole nothin' from you, man. If you don't believe it that's on you!"

"What you mean if I don't believe it! My door stay locked, Meg!" British exclaimed, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Me and you the only mufuckas who got keys to this door, if not you then who? I can't steal from myself—like fuck outta here for real!"

"You know what? I'm not arguin' wit' you, get your things and get the fuck from my house!"
Megan said fiercely. "I'm not finna argue wit no young homeless ass bitch bout no money!"

British stood up from the edge of her bed instantly. "Bitch no problem! I'll go, just give me my $250 for rent, and the $250 you just fuckin' stole from me and I'll go." British shrugged she didn't care if she had to sleep on a bench with her belongings but, she wanted her money back.

"Ian givin' you a fucking dime, bitch. Get your shit and get the FUCK out my house!" Megan strongly yelled making British storm toward her, chest to chest British eyed the woman she was at least an inch taller than.

"Meg, bitch, I will drag yo ass all through this fuckin' crib bruh, give me all my fuckin' money back bro! I'm not playin' wit you," British strongly replied. Her grandmother always taught her that money was like god, cause how could you survive without it. But nevertheless, that wasn't even the issue, it was the fact British worked her ass off for every dollar bill she had in that sock. Working at the tattoo parlor full time, and then when she was free she would braid hair in Celine's shop up north. She was booked and busy for that money, that money was gonna get her brother the life she promised him.

"You ain't hear me say I ain't givin' you shit, or you deaf?" Megan challenged her. British felt an overwhelming feeling of rage burning through her as she scoffed, laughing bitterly as she walked to her dresser, pulling the drawer open she pulled out the box cutter her grandmother gave her for protection purposes only, following an unsuspecting Megan down the corridor. Gripping her shoulder and whipping her around, Megan came face to face with the blade British held, her lips parted. She had never seen British so angry, fear surged through her tummy as she watched British corner her.

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐒 | 𝐊𝐕.Where stories live. Discover now