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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"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐔 mean my balance was paid? I'm callin' to make a payment." Dante spoke on the phone with a rep working for Municipal Courts.
Taking Camila advice from the day before, Dante called to question why he could not access his account online as usual and hearing the rep tell him every fine and fee was paid off—hundreds of thousands of dollars worth—was just the second thing adding to his confusion on the Friday morning.
His confusion had him pacing slowly in his Nike slides, listening to the lady on the other end explain that it was paid in full recently. "...that's all I know. I can't track the payment, sir." Her voice was monotone and by her sigh, she was tired of explaining the obvious. "If you ask me; just be thankful that a blessing like this happened to you. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Uhh, nah," he declined and exhaling, "Have a good day."
Dante hung up with the rep just as the front door opened and his son's loud greeting followed—"When Ye step up in the crib; it's ay bay bay!"
Smiling, Dante walked out to greet his son. "Look who finally came from Holly-Springfield!"
"I had to come bless ya wit my presence. Gam bouta come in," Ye told his father to keep him from shutting the door. "Where Moo face-ass?"
"School. Matter of fact, why the hell you not at school? It's Friday." Dante asked as Syn walked in with a few bags and he grabbed it from her.
"We out one Friday a month," Ye shrugged, plopping down on the sofa with his phone out to disrupt his cousin at school. The FaceTime rung as his father sat the bags on the dining table.
"One Friday a month? Ain't that some shit," he cursed just to be struck on the arm by his mother.
"Better cut allat cussing out," Syn warned.
"My bad," he chuckled. "Why I call the Municipal Courts and my whole balance paid off."
"The full thing?"
"The full thing," Dante confirmed, nodding. "I don't know how. I don't know why. That's not even the half. I hit up the parole officer tryna see when I needed to come in 'cause I don't need em thinkin' I'm fuckin' up when it's really my P.O. and they tellin' me I ain't gotta report no mo. No piss test, no nothin."
Syn head tilted in confusion and surprise. "You ain't been out that long for her to be that lenient."
"That's what I'm sayin! It ain't even been a year. Like, I ain't gon' hold you; I'm not complainin' but I still don't know what's goin' on. I'm tryna take it as a blessings but still."
"I get it. You musta shook hands wit the right person Son." Syn said, and Tisa Roman instantly comes to his mind.
Did she do all of this? The car, my parole, my fees.
