Hard work, dedication, and focus; 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯 just wanted change in his hood, his parenting, and off his previous mindset, while growing interest in someone he felt was above his level.
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The moment Inala screamed inside, Dante sped in out from the porch with his lit BLK in his hand—confusion and worry attached to his expression—led him to the kitchen in hiswhite tee and Nike Sportswear Tech fleece shorts. His slides-and-crewsocks combo came to a stop on against the clean, tile kitchen floor; his chestnut brown irises bounced between his mother and Inala.
Dante quickly realized the scream wasn't based upon negativity. Inala was jumping up and down with her phone, her messy half up bob emphasizing her movements. "What's goin' on?"
"That's what I'm tryna—You better remove that smoke outta here," Syn sto-pped, cutting her eyes at her child; he chuckled, fanning the smoke from his BLK and went over to the kitchen door and stabbed it out. "I'm tryna figure that out as well. Why you screaming, 'Ala?"
"So..." Inala clicked her tongue, catching her breath in her oversize tee, and sweat shorts. "Y'all know I got two pages—my personal and business one for my nail work—and I haven't checked the business one in a min. Why I have a follow request and DM from Zura Blaze; the fashion icon! She wants me to team with her stylist and make press-ons for each of her looks for New York Fashion Week next month!"
"Okayyy!" Dante and Syn clapped, even with him being there when the follow was sent a couple days ago.
"Look at my baby," Syn hugged Inala proudly, "Got her first client wit big money. Gone girl," she softly swat her.
A notification came in on Inala's iPhone, and she looked at the screen. "Wow, she actually replies. Oh, my God! She wants me to set up a Zoom with her and her stylist whenever I'm free."
"I'm excited for you; I am," Syn voiced, hesitance in her voice. "You start your school next week and this week full of finishing up your shopping. How you gonna balance all of that? You also been having Volleyball all summer. I don't want you to overwork yourself."
"I can handle it, Gammy, trust me." Inala assured with confidence. The fift-een year old naturally had the hustle gene in her, and balancing everything volleyball and doing and selling press-on nails the side to financially do for herself, adding a fashion icon to her list was light work. Nothing would get in front of her nail art being seen and credited on one of the most essential parts of the fashion industry.
Syn trusted her granddaughters word, and nodded. "Alright, you know I'm ten toes down with you. Is more of your supplies on the way?" she asked.
"Yeah. FedEx delivering it in the morning, but I gotta tournament around that time in Noble. I won't be here."
"Ima be here; Sal got me goin' in around noon since we got a lotta ship-ment yesterday."
Inala nodded just as the Ring doorbell chimes, detecting motion at the front door and her receiving a new text. "That's my client," she said with a jog to the door.
