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MILA • 25 • 5'6
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PRINCE • 27 • 5'9
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SOMETIME DURING SUMMER 2023
• M I L A •
"This mufucka jumpin' huh?" My homeboy asked me as we passed a blunt back at forth as we sat in his car.
The sky was almost dark, the sun just peeking over the skyline. "I guess," I sighed inhaling the smoke in my lungs, wanting to be high, so I could somewhat tolerate this shit. "You know es shit ain't my typa thing. I rather be at home wit my girl," I smirked.
"Why she ain't come witchu?" he asked.
I sighed, passing the blunt back to him, hearing the loud rap music coming from inside through house. "She's busy wit her mama—her moms helpin' out wit her luh lipgloss business n shit,"
"She's always workin'," he chuckled.
"Ain't she," I smiled thinking about her.
My baby is the most hardworking girl I know. She's the definition of building yourself from the ground up, and she's inspired me too.
After we finished the blunt and made more small talk, we got out of his car and headed into the party.
"Is et big Mila?" I laughed, rolling my eyes when I saw my homeboy from high school, Cortez. "Neva thought I seen you et one of ese hoes," He spoke, dapping me up.
"Me neither, Tez. I had ta pop out fa the one time tho," I smiled, flashing my gold grills.
"I see you, bro," he laughed, and then me and DJ slid past him making our way into the packed house, touching random people until we found our way by the liquor.
