HONEY :: ORIGINAL

friends & family

One of Sanai's favorite things about her boyfriend was that he had amazing stories to tell. Like, she thought she had a pretty interesting life, but Bobby had stories stories. A plot and everything.

It was after her second Manchester show, a few of her closest friends gathered in a nice restaurant slash bar, just chillin' after a night of amazing music and a certain someone smoking an entire blunt on stage with some of her supporters. She was mellowing out some now, able to stay still and listen to her boyfriend talk.

"I actually really like Baltimore," Sanai heard Bobby tell her friends. The entire table, like, eight people including her, were intrigued by the story that started off like, "yeah I was in a gang." Even Sanai didn't know that.

"I mean, it's a little gentrified, but my parents sent me to Sandwood, which is far from gentrified."

"Why'd you move?" Mata, who was sitting beside Sanai, asked.

"Um, basically, my mom was going through it after a miscarriage, so my dad thought it was best to relocate me to my uncle's house while she got her shit together," he replied, "anyway, I was eight—"

"Eight?" Sanai's plug, Abe, said in astonishment. "Like, years old?"

"Yeah, man. You could find me at a convenience store dealing or gambling in an alleyway. I either snuck out to see my best friend William, who lived forty five minutes away, or I was working," Bobby took a sip from his water glass and continued, "they didn't let me hold a gun, but they definitely taught me how to use it just in case."

"That's crazy," she heard someone say, "yo, what?"

"You ever get shot?" Mata asked.

"Twice. And I got stabbed," Bobby answered with a shrug.

"What?" Sanai repeated in shock, "what the fuck? Where?"

"He stabbed me here," Bobby pointed to the left side of his collarbone, "and my left shoulder. And then I got shot on my left bicep. But I mean, I got a lot of tattoos so you can't see them much."

"How'd you get shot?"

"So," he cleared his throat and everyone leaned in. This story was so interesting. "I just got finished selling my shit, right? Then, this random nigga came up to me and just...stabbed my shit, bruh. I didn't even see it coming. Then he tried to rob my ass and the nigga I was with started fighting this man," Bobby squinted his eyes as he thought, "my partner told me to run, and of course I did."

"Bro, this shit gotta be fake," Mata said in disbelief, "You eight getting this caught up?"

"I was nine by the time I got caught up, but, ay," he shrugged with his hands up, "I had money. More than my young ass needed. So anyway, I was running and this nigga was already shooting. I ain't even go to the hospital. Wasn't even supposed to be out. Niggas was whole doctors, stitching me up and shit."

"Bobby, what the fuck?" Sanai giggled, putting a hand to her cheek, "he stabbed you kinda close to your heart."

"That shit hurt too," he rubbed the left side of his chest, "goddamn."

"Babe, what—" she put her head on the table, her mind cloudy with a whole lotta' THC, "—my God."

"Okay, so," Denise, Sanai's photographer, started, "back to this gang shit...what happened to the guy?"

"He went to jail," Bobby said, petting Sanai's head since she decided to take a nap, "my uncle caught me when I came home and when my mom heard about it," he let out a sigh, "she wanted me back immediately. She already knew it going wasn't safe but she trusted my uncle. I was just sneaky as hell, so he didn't know half the shit I was doing."