"Ayo, Ghostface, pass me that," you spoke as Ghostface passed a Sprite you got from commissary to you. You were sitting on a stool while Montero was giving you faux locs.
Ghostface was smoking a cigarette while flipping through a magazine, and you were watching Baby Boy on BET, eating your snacks.
"Man, fuck Jody! That nigga done cheated on Yvette too many times, then her dumbass clown him for it, and now she's cryin' about it? Fuck outta here," you exclaimed at the TV.
Montero was quiet and for good reason. See, she didn't have enough money to get the hair from commissary so she had to...you get the point.
"Y'all know what the CO's wanted El Diabla for?" Ghostface asked as you and Montero shook your heads.
"Nah, it looked like she ain't even know what was goin' on," Montero added as she finished up the last loc, putting a makeshift silver clip in it.
"Uh, just because we cool don't mean you ain't gotta pay me, puta," Montero said as you groaned, pulling out two packs of Hostess powdered donuts, tossing them to her.
"Pleasure doin' business with ya," she said in a fake Italian mobster voice, making the three of you laugh. You admired your hair in the mirror, feeling yourself.
The sound of the cell door opened, and you glanced, seeing El Diabla arrive back in the cell.
"Ay, El Diabla, wassup?!" You waved with a goofy-ass smile on your face. Instead of calling you a goofy-ass kid, she just had this miserable look on her face as she sat down on her bunk.
"Uhhh, what's wrong with you?" Montero asked, popping a donut in her mouth. El Diabla sighed, smoothing back her sloppy ponytail.
