𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐊𝐕

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝟖

𝟗:𝟑𝟎 𝐩𝐦
𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐈𝐋

"You still ain't hit?" Booka smacked his lips as he handed Von a random usb cord. The two were huddled in a Walmart parking lot, attempting to steal a parked car.

"No...damn." Dayvon muttered as he yanked off the steering wheel panel of a kia. He used the usb port to start up the car but it didn't even have enough gas to go 10 miles.

"Lemme have shorty, cause obviously you not doing some right." Booka shrugged with a smirk as he sat in the passenger seat being completely useless.

"I'm doing everything right. Find yo own bitch." Dayvon pulled the USB out and called Durk.

"I'm just sayin' 'cause she looked like she was feeling me at the lil dinner, shit maybe you just worn out. Can't handle all that booty her lil ass was carrying in that dr-"

"B shut the fuck up." Von shot him a look before he heard Durk finally answer his phone call.

"Yo I just seen yo rich bitch." Durk exclaimed as he looked out of his bedroom window, watching as Melia and Marcus headed to his car.

"Shorty done got a hood sugar daddy...them rich girls love old men." Durk shook his head with a deep frown as he watched them drive off. Dayvon smacked his lips, leaning back in the seat.

"Stupid ass nigga that's her father." Dayvon muttered, honestly it was surprising to him how incompetent his friends could act sometimes.

"Oh. What you need?" Durk muttered walking back over to his bed. He plopped down, laying back with his arm resting behind his head.

"Cut the cameras at this Walmart. The same one we was at the other day." Von instructed, having forgotten to tell him to do that before he and Booka arrived. Durk groaned, leaning back up and grabbing his laptop.

But it was too late someone noticed the boys, and had already called the police. The sirens came fast and the two started to run, turning the corner to get to Von's car. Unfortunately, they didn't make it, both of them being tackled after some more cops were camped around the corner.

Loud demands filled the space, "Fuck you don't gotta handle me like that!" Booka shouted as an officer dug his knee deep in his back, attempting to lock his cuffs.

"Be still!" The officer yelled, his breathing heavy as he began to stand up, pulling Booka from the ground with him.

"Of course." A female officer shook her head after she and Dayvon met eyes, a few more questions prompting him to fall into his silent, cold persona. Not another word peeping from his lips.

Once they arrive at the station they were booked in and sit there for hours, Booka eventually able to leave after someone came for him. But Dayvon still hadn't made his call, unsure who to ask for help.

"What you gon' do Dayvon?" Charles walked up to the cell, looking at him with a slight look of disappointment. He looked up at him and shrugged before he thought about it and stood up.

"You got someone to call? Cause I know yo mama not finna come." He asked with a subtle chuckle, walked over to unlock the cell and Dayvon nodded once more. Charles leads him over to the phone where Day on let out a deep sigh before dialing a phone number with little shame.

"Hello?" Melia's voice answered the phone, he could hear the sleep in her voice and sighed, feeling a little bad for interrupting her sleep.

"It's me shorty." He mumbles and Melia sits up, looking at the time finding it to be near two in the morning.