make a bag. (discontinued) ⭢ 𝖬𝖩 ︎︎︎︎

💸 | TEN.

"I might have feelings, but that don't mean I'm an expert at expressin' 'em. this ain't my little pony."

, Re'Najsha

•••

~Re'Najsha~
"admit it"

"What's all this?" I question Kentrell, walkin' into the gang's trap house, and seein' like fifteen other people. Some where counting bands of money then placing them in duffel bags, puttin' away multiple guns and other weapons, and also puttin' away drugs, all in separate bags.

And it was a lot.

"You should know, Nay." Kentrell furrows his brows at me, "We're preparin' for Exchange Week. You know people's be gettin' robbed 'nd shit."

Yeah, I knew that. The crazy thing is during Exchange Week, usually the smart thing to do would to be turn off all of your lights and whatnot.

Yeah, you can't do that here.

Turnin' off your lights and makin' the gang members think you're not home will only attract them. The least you could possibly do is just to never be downstairs—just in case—, and lock all your doors, windows, and any other accessible entrance to your house. Only me and a couple of other families on the block know this hack.

And plus a lot of people already know that Kentrell and I live where we do. They know Kentrell won't think twice before lightin' somebody up.

"Exactly." Jailen chimed, comin' into the livin' room with another duffel bag that was obviously filled with more of whatever else they were smuggling into these things from the way it hit the ground by the coffee table, "And if somebody try to steal from me I'm strappin' they ass."

"Of course you are." I lightly chuckle as Kentrell sits down beside Jailen on the couch, before they too start counting several bands of money that they picked up from the coffee table.

I then glance around and watch the other group of people continue to sort through the things they were putting away. The house smelled strongly of weed, but I mean, there's like three million people here so there ain't much I can do.

I decided to grab a water from the kitchen jus' 'cuz I've been so damn thirsty all day.

Like have you ever had the feeling that no matter how much you drink, you still thirsty?

Just as I was walkin' out of the kitchen and was about to go back into the living room, I glance down the hallway and see Michael come out of the bathroom then walk across the hall to his bedroom.

He walked into his room and left the door open, so I took the liberty of walkin' down the hallway and to his room. Kentrell or Jailen wasn't payin' attention anyways, so it didn't even matter.

I poked my head into the doorway, his back facin' toward me as he was preparing to put on a plain white T-shirt while already wearing black baggy sweats, with white and gray Jordan 12 Retro's. I had to hurry and collect myself before he would turn around and see me starin' at him bein' shirtless.

It's not what it looks like I swur.

I knocked on the already opened door, then he turned around before draping the shirt over his head makin' eye contact with me with nonchalant furrowed brows, and I got a quick glancin' overview of his slightly flexed muscles before the rest of his shirt fell over his lower abdomen.