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The room was clouded with smoke as the two young men passed the blunt back and forth. Sevyn was trying to numb himself from his very public breakup from last week. He hadn't heard from his Scottie in days, it was fucking with him. It was like she ripped his heart out and was continuously stomping all over it. The emptiness he felt without her was enough to crumble a weaker man. He couldn't front it even now just thinking about it brought a pinging pain to his heart. He stared off as the weed consumed him and he became hazy. "Nigga, just go to her crib. You look like a sad ass puppy," Julz clowned, holding the smoke down in his chest before exhaling it.
"I'm not even worried about her ass," Sevyn didn't even sound sure in his words. In a matter of days, Scotlynd had turned his calm life upside down. That same feeling of doubt and insecurity that surrounded Scotlynd was now resting in the pit of his stomach.
"She fuckin around on me," was his first thought. A mechanism to calm his guilty conscience.
His phone kept ringing from his pocket, this was the fifth call. He groaned inwardly already knowing who rested on the end of the line. Living under his parent's roof wasn't the luxury everyone thought it was, his family was dysfunctional and unhinged. Sevyn knew it was his mother, she had been clocking his movement more than usual since he was leaving for college soon. "Ma dukes ain't playing with yo ass huh?" Julz clowned. "Shut the fuck up nigga," Sevyn choked on the fumes passing the blunt Julz's way.
"Ma what? I'ma be home in a little," Sevyn rushed on the phone, tired of explaining his every move to his mother. He was 18 and grown in the legal sense, he just wished she would understand that. "That's how you talk to yo moms nigga?" A low voice boomed through. Sevyn's breath was caught in the back of his throat as his father was on the line about to dig into him.
"Get home," he demanded before hanging up the line in Sevyn's face.
The hidden animosity in his father's voice all stemmed from Sevyn's uninterested in the family business. Maxwell Watson, also known as Mad Max was born and bred in the concrete jungle of New York. He had one of the most notorious rags-to-riches stories as he had transcended the drug game like never seen before. From the Grake Lakes to the Midwest he ruled the drug trade with an iron fist. Anything you could think of he supplied it. He had come up from a mere corner boy to the plug of all plugs. Everyone wanted the chance to grace his legendary presence, but for some reason, his son was fighting to get further away from it.
Sevyn wanted the simplistic life, he saw firsthand what drugs and dirty money could do to a person as his brother Syn was doing a 10-year bid for it. Their father's name held weight in the underground world, even in some government agencies, but it couldn't protect them forever. Syn learned it the hard way when he got mixed up in a murder case. Street life had repercussions, no matter how much weight your name held.
This was true for Maxwell as well. His name and ego played hand and hand with the destruction of his family's safety and his marriage. That's why when things got hot he moved his young family of five from New York to the small city in Michigan. It was unheard of, an easy takeover for him. However, now he was getting old as sprouts of gray hair had begun to cover his low fade. His hazel eyes began to dull out, and the bags under them began to droop. Life was catching up with him and soon the inevitable would follow. Maxwell thought it was disrespectful for Sevyn not to take his rightful spot. After all, he was his only eligible, free bloodline. It was almost as if Sevyn gathered his buildup of spit from the back of his throat and spat it at him. Maxwell couldn't just give his throne to anybody, too much blood was shed for it.
