She walks in like the epitome of black girl luxury, but pain follows her. She covers it with bust-down jewelry and white roses.
He's quiet, but his presence is loud in itself. Everyone knows him, but she sees right past him.
She's confident, but h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
brickell, miami.
"man that nigga edward?? that nigga too hard!" uncle p yelled as they all watched the braves v marlins game.
an hour into the game, judah, ayaan, and uncle p had all bonded like they knew eachother and left spirit out.
for the last hour, they had been jumping out of their seat, drinking beer, and cursing at the white folks blocking they view.
"bra move!" judah yelled, dodging his head around to see the final pitch.
"i'm telling y'all, i'm telling y'all; they gon be 9-12" ayaan spoke, putting his hand out to bet judah and uncle p.
"man ian betting shit, hell yea they gon win" judah said, refusing the bet. — "fuck dat! lock in fuck nigga!" uncle p said, slapping 300 into ayaans hand.
uncle p was ayaans blood brother. although they grew up under the same beliefs, as soon as uncle p, as in princeton, went to college, things turned immediately.
he had now introduced himself to raw black american culture, roughened himself up, and distanced himself from his parents beliefs.
"lock in brotha" ayaan took the 300, then looked at judah.
uncle p kissed his teeth before slapping a 300 in judah's hand aswell.
"imma make my money back— i'ah bet u dat." uncle p muttered under his breath.
"you hungry bae?" judah then turned to spirit to see her already munching down on chicken tenders from the concession.
she looked at him before taking another bite.
wynwood, miami.
judah had now dropped spirit home after she wanted to finish packing.
although he thought the day was over, ayaan invited him to the bar with him and uncle p.
something that ayaan couldn't even believe he did. — and something that judah quickly accepted.
walking into the bar, he spotted the pair, he immediately pulled his pants up, sauntering over to them.
dapping up ayaan and princeton, he took a seat next to them at the bar. — the trio spent their next late hours drinking and conversating at the bar.
for judah, it wasn't that he didn't have a father figure, he simply did not truly have a father.
with a mother that broke her back to take care of her child AND her man, he never looked up to a man as a powerful person, he looked up to a woman.
he flourished under his mothers care, and with that he grew hate for his father, all fathers.
he watched his mom limp after his father leaned on her for so long, although he grew up somewhere he had no business being, it wasn't where he wanted to be— he truly wished he had a father that'll take him out to eat.
