'𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝟎𝟕'

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋.
𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘕 , 𝟰:𝟮𝟬 𝗣𝗠.

TREY STARED AT THE CEILING, thinking about his encounter he had with that dude julian three days ago. Since that was the last time he was at school.

Trey only really went to school because he would be took to court if he didn't. His attendance, his grades. None of that shit mattered to him for real.

So him missing a couple of days in the school week every so often never really affected him.

It wasn't like he was studying to become a physician, doctor, or anything of the sort. He was truly just living until he'll probably end up dead with a hole in his stomach or something.

The life he lived didn't give you any options to be anything but temporarily street trash.

But while he looked at the ceiling, All he kept thinking about was two things. The first one being the fact he told him, julian, his boxing name when he asked. Red.

That's what he went by, only lamar, brez and the rest of lamar's employees knew his real name. And he liked it that way. But, he didn't even tell people at school his preferred name to go by. Or any name at all. So why did he tell him?

It wasn't that big of a deal, but he figured he told him his 'name' because he had the balls to ask him when nobody at that school ever tried to talk to him about anything other than fucking.

But he even called him shorty. And while he was short, it was almost like a nickname and trey didn't give muthafuckas nicknames. Ever.

He didn't feel like thinking about that shit anymore though, he's been at it for like an hour, so decided to push the whole ordeal out of his mind because he had other things to worry about.

It's whatever, I won't be around him so it didn't matter if he knew my fuckin' name or not. Trey thought to his self.

Trey threw his legs off the edge of the bed, and then he stood up. He fixed his white beater, and pulled his grey sweatpants down on his legs a little because they were bunched up around his ankles and he hated that feeling.