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Chapter Zero - Prologue
The high speed chase had the entire city of Savannah Georgia glued to their screens. Whether they were at home watching on TV or on their lunch breaks gawking at their phones, this was the next best thing since OJ Simpson.
"I swear, whoever that nigga is, they done for." Manu leaned back on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table while popping some gummy worms into his mouth. His eyes were glued to the tv screen that was hanging in the corner of the room.
"Honestly," Omari agreed. He was sitting at the producer's seat, not even focused on the beat they were supposed to be making for their song.
How could they focus when the entire city, hell, the entire state was focused on this high speed chase?
Despite being focused on the news, the voice of the oldest out of the bunch was echoing through the rough and battered walls of the public recording studio. It was probably because of the countless bullet holes and fist holes in the wall that made Santana's voice so preamble. He was screaming and cursing somebody out in the hallway, and his voice was getting louder, like he was coming closer.
"We paid for this damn studio time. We gonna use it!"
Santana and whoever he was arguing with entered the public studio room. It was a lady, her hair barely even braided with a toddler on her hip. She was mugging Santana real hard.
"Nigga it's damn near ten o'clock and my babies need to go to sleep. I can't put them down with y'all trash ass music keeping the tenants up!" She clapped back.
He shrugged. "That's not my problem."
The public recording studio they rented was the only one they could afford without taking a baseball bat to their budget, and even this shit hole was taking big bites out of their pocket. It was in a building that also served as an apartment. The landlord didn't care about half of their building being kept up all night from the music. All they saw was green. And the recording studio was bringing in some good rent money.
Some people had the decency to not rent after a certain hour, but these boys were all about hustle. They had a dream to catch and they didn't care about who was bothered by it.
She looked at him like she couldn't believe her ears before jabbing a finger to his forehead. "Fuck you and y'all trash ass music. Y'all asses can't sing anyway. Y'all make my ears bleed."
She strutted out with her baby in her arms and Santana slammed the door behind her.
"FUCK!" He screamed. Knowing him, it took all of him not to put his hands on her. Manu and Omari was surprised that he was able to finally keep his fists at bay.
"Damn tacky ass recording studio..." Omari shook his head and mumbled to himself, turning to face the producer tables.
Santana snapped his neck at him. Not even paying attention to the news anchor describing the high speed chase on the TV.
"Oh I'm sorry, you got some money to put down for something nicer downtown?" Santana held his ear to him, sarcastically waiting for an answer. "Oh. What I thought. Crickets."
Omari was about to say something, but like usual, Manu was trying to keep him from starting another Santana outburst.
Santana walked over to the couch, forcefully moving Manu's feet off the table so he could walk to the other side of him and sit on the couch. Helping himself to the bottle of Hennessy that was half gone.
"I'm just saying. I'm tired of being the only one breaking my back at these damn jobs just so the only thing y'all gotta do is make sure our music gets done." He unbuttons his coveralls slightly, flipping his collar over the "Terry's Factory" emblem. "Every time I get paid, I gotta figure out if we should be able to wash our ass or have heat in our apartments. Not to mention I gotta pay for this shitty ass studio time and we ain't making no type of progress."
"Okay. Maybe our music ain't getting no streams on Soundcloud but you gotta walk before you crawl, San," Manu said, being the voice of reason of the group. "We put in the work and the universe will make sure we good. You gotta have hope. That's supposed to be good for manifesting and stuff."
Eventually, Santana was able to relax after a few gulps of the Hennessey and decided to watch the high speed chase along with his brothers. Here and there he would check his apple watch, noticing the time get threateningly close to 10.
"Man, where the fuck is Legend with the damn car." He said. "I need to get to work. If I'm late again-"
Before he could finish his statement, the high speed chase reached a new turn.
"The identity of the driver has been confirmed!" The news anchor chirped. Manu, Santana, and Omari were brought to the edge of their seats.
The screen showed a bird view of cars glowing red and blue finally surrounding the car on the highway. It was tipped over. But thankfully, the driver was safely out of the car and detained by the officers.
"We just got word that the driver is a Twenty year old Legendary Lopez."
It was like a chill filled the room. Everyone's hearts dropping to the pits of their stomach.
"FUCK!" Santana screamed.
. . .
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Hey y'all....
Finally back. I've been focusing on this project and I overall got a bunch of chapters done to be consistently uploading for a while.
Anyhoo, just giving y'all a lil something before I post the debut chapter. What y'all think about everything so far?
