Symere, a young girl recruited as a holder at just 11 years old, uses her innocent appearance to outsmart everyone in the dangerous world of drugs and guns. When the talented Artist enters the fray, he becomes both a rival and a potential love inter...
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"Shoot me." Artist smirked, pushing his forehead against the barrel of the gun.
"Tizz, c'mon man, this ain't the way to go out. Think about your girl, she loves you."
"Enough of the sappy shit! What's yo last words nigga?"
"See you in hell bitch." He chuckled as the gun went off.
"Noooo!"
Symere gasped as her alarm went blaring throughout the room. This was the third time that this reoccurring dream happened. She didn't quite understand, she had no knowledge of the guys involved.
Symere grew up in a wealthy family with her father being a prominent drug dealer in the city. She was always a Daddy's little girl and never wanted for anything. Despite her privileged upbringing, she was drawn into her father's illegal activities at a young age, learning the ins and outs of the drug trade. Her mother was absent for most of her life, leaving Symere with a sense of abandonment.
Symere has a complicated relationship with her father. While she loves and admires him, she also resents him for involving her in his illegal activities. Her father was feared and respected by many in the community. As a result, she often found herself seeking her father's attention and approval, and she became deeply involved in his business.
At just 11 years old, Symere was already working for her father, acting as a 'holder' for the drugs and money he dealt with. She was small and innocent-looking, which made her the perfect candidate for the job. She used her appearance to outsmart everyone, including rival gang members and the police.
Symere was a smart and driven girl, and she quickly rose through the ranks, becoming her father's most trusted ally. She was cunning and strategic, always thinking two steps ahead, and her father often boasted about her skills to his colleagues.
She sighed, throwing the covers off of her and slipping her feet into her house shoes. She emerged out of her bedroom and into the bathroom, running the sink water. She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth before hopping into the shower.
Symere was preparing for a meeting her father set to have early this morning. One thing he hated was tardiness, everybody who works for him knew it. He wasn't your average king pin, he was actually a sweetheart. He hate himself for getting his daughter involved simply because he couldn't get her to stop.
She lived for shootouts, fights, and knocking someone off just because they looked at her wrong. She wasn't wrapped too tight and her father was to blame.
"Word got around that a nigga got shot. Heard a nigga drew down' and he bucked so his ass got popped. We was on my block trying to move these rocks. Trying to stack this cash on the low, gotta duck these cops." She sung as the water dripped down her body.
"I love that fine ass man." She muttered to herself, applying lotion to her arms.
Throwing on a simple dark gray tee and white sweatpants, a small watch accompanied her wrist along with a chain that picture her and her father.
