𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣, 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩.
This was the saying for many of those who ran with the Southside. In a story where two people reconnect over a terrible loss, they pour into each-other while mourning the loss of their beloved cousin and friend. W...
❝I ain't tryna be no pimp, for you, I'm tryna be a young rich simp. (Tryna be all for you) ❞ — I Luv U, YTB Fatt.
Symir Isaiah Hogan. November 2022 Càncun, Mexico.
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* i didn't proofread*
Symir laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he hesitantly rolled over to check his phone, groaning at the blue light from the screen.
He was still extremely hungover, and had been for the past two days. Symir wasn't much a of a drinker, more a smoker, so his body was taking longer to recover from the large amounts of liquor.
𝟐:𝟏𝟎𝐏𝐌.
Symir brought his hand to his head, rubbing it in circles before throwing his feet over the bed to make his way downstairs. Laughing could be heard from downstairs as he made his way down, holding onto the railing as he still felt wonky.
"Y'all niggas loud as fuck gang." He croaked out, dragging his feet as he opened the fridge, grabbing the Orange Juice. He got a glass cup from the cupboard, rinsing it before pouring a cold glass of OJ.
"It's almost three, folk. Nobody told yo' ass to just wake up nigga." Q50 said, not even bothering to look back at him as he broke up some weed.
"Ion' even got the energy to argue with ya' undercooked ass, G.." Scoom waved him off, taking a generous sip of the Orange Juice.
"Oh, Ard." 50 replied, waving him off as well. Jeff rose up off the couch, making his way toward Scoom as he put the front of his dreads into a messy ponytail. He hated when they were in his face.
"How you feelin' lil nigga." Jeff asked as he hopped onto the marble counter, looking at Scoom. "Like shit. Where the girls at? It's too quiet in here." Scoom asked as he finished off the cup, throwing it in the sink.
"Foe, you just said it was loud. But they went into the city to get some souvenirs before we leave." He answered, pulling his phone from his Palm Angel track pants, opening the 'Find My Phone' feature to check Nina's lo.
Scoom ran his hand down his face at the thought of leaving and going back to his city, he wasn't too thrilled about it. "Yeah.. before we leave." He mumbled, sucking his teeth as his mood was now soured.
Symir loved his hood more than anything but after the recent shooting, he wasn't able to shake back like Jeff. Symir woke up in cold sweats most nights, reliving the moment over and over again.
It never crossed the young man's mind that maybe this wasn't the best thing for him but after almost losing his life for the second time in such a short period of time, he definitely felt different. Symir had just turned 18, and had already lost most of his childhood friends in a span of 4 years.
