"What's understood..don't gotta be explained. You know as well as I do, that you belong with me. Ain't no two ways about it." His eyes never left mine as he spoke, they only seemed to bore deeper into them.
I was fidgeting in my seat, wishing desper...
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"the only reason I live is to tell the tale u dreamed of twinn I won't ever in life let nun these niggas take that away ik it's from u already"
I stood on the balcony, lookin' over L.A., lights blinkin' like stars. Took a slow drag from the blunt, feelin' that smoke swirl in my chest, but my mind wasn't here. Nah, it was back on 14th Street.
14. That number ain't just somethin' random—it's me. It's my roots, where everything started. Canton, Ohio. 14th Street. The block that taught me how to move, how to survive when the world had its back turned on you. I ain't been back in a minute, but I still carry it with me, like a second shadow.
I see it clear, like I'm right there again. Cracked-ass pavement under my kicks, me and JC posted up on the corner, dreamin' about how we was gonna make it out. Just two broke kids, schemin' on a street that never loved nobody.
That street made me, though. 14th taught me how to hustle, how to peep game from a mile away. How to keep my circle tight, trust nobody outside of it. But it also taught me how to bury shit deep. Pain, struggle—14th made sure you learned real quick that showin' weakness was a death sentence. Everyone had scars out there, it was just a matter of whether you let 'em show.
My mind drifts back to Ma, grindin' two jobs just to keep us floatin'. I used to watch her from the stoop, hustlin' day and night so I wouldn't end up like half the niggas on our block—dead or doin' time. She never caught a break, but she kept goin', all so I could dream bigger than what 14th had to offer.
14. That number's in my blood. It's the grind, the fight, the promise I made to myself to make it out and never look back. But here I am, still thinkin' 'bout it. Still feelin' that weight on me. I take another hit, lettin' the smoke fill the space around me. I got it all now—money, fame, everything I said I wanted back on 14th. But I still feel that kid in me, the one with the chipped shoulders and heavy heart. That street's a part of me I can't shake. It's in the way I move, the way I talk, the way I keep my distance even when I don't mean to.
I wonder if Jade sees it—that part of me I don't show. The 8 hunnid block kid, the one still tryin' to figure shit out, even with all the shine. She makes me wanna drop that guard I've been holdin' up for years. But even she can't erase where I come from.
My phone buzzes, pullin' me back. 14:00, meeting reminder. Ain't that somethin'? That number always finds a way back, like it's tryna remind me of somethin'. Maybe I ain't supposed to run from it. Maybe it's a part of my story I gotta own, not hide.
I flick the ash off the blunt, thinkin' 'bout how far I've come. But deep down? I'm still that kid from 14th, still fightin' to be more than what that block tried to box me into. And now, with Jade in the picture, the stakes feel different. Bigger. Maybe that's why I can't stop thinkin' about 14.
