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.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝: 𝘈𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘭.
Damien House had officially opened its doors to released ex-cons and staff. It was full to capacity, and with the ex-cons checking into the facility today, Dante wanted to host a very own orientation to lay down the rules and structure of the halfway house. Fifty plus seats were full with diverse faces, including his family; Syn, Donye, and Inala. A single camera was in attendance—the only amount he agreed to come with the Councilwoman and her campaign manager.
Although Tisa wanted the northeast district's seat, Dante could admit she had kept her word and been a big help to him and the White Way Rebuild brand. And for that, Tisa Roman had his support even though he wasn't able to vote himself.
Nerves doesn't take over his being with every pair of eyes on him being he was the twin that enjoyed to talk in front of a crowd.
"Welcome home, first and foremost," Dante started as he stood ahead of every one in a basic white tee, Dickies pants, and Jordans. He accessorized with single chain and gold earrings. "We all have a hard time wit rules. Dealt wit it for months, for years on the inside. But out here, rules is structure. That's what Damien House is all bout. Also keeping us home wit our kids, our families. The most important thing. I'm not gon' tap into the curfew, room for no mistakes type shit cause it's all in the folder. But I will say read and memorize it. This here opportunity for second chances; mine too," Dante went on, eying every ex-con in their seats, and his eyes stopped on the specific male in the back row.
His skin was deep brown, facial hair scruffy, and hair unkempt. Those dark brown, downturned shape eyes held that same menace inside since Dante saw him last four years ago in prison. The gorilla tattoo on the right side of his neck was designed loud and proud.
Staring at the known menace ex-convict, Dante couldn't read him. His face was blank, leaning back in the steel folding chair with his arms crossed and legs in a manspread. Dante knew he was raised to be unable to read by outsiders but he can tell he was at least listening. He noted to talk with him after, aware that tattoo alone come with issues.
"Comin' out, this motha fucka move fast." Dante went on, pulling his eyes off him and to everyone else. "That time that felt like nothin' in there; same out here. It wait for nobody. We all grown and want to stay out that motha fucka 'cause who wanna be caged? Temptation will come. Gon' be right in yo' face, praying' you fall for it. But don't. Quote I memorized right here behind me," he pointed over his shoulder, "When you doin' that time, you doin' it alone—'cause that's facts."
"How many of y'all started out wit friends and family comin' to see you, writing you in in that first two months?" Dante asked, and every ex-con raised their hands. "And how many did not have nobody after month five; maybe your baby mama and kids if she wasn't trippin?"
