Chapter 1
Ryaire Riley
Compared to Detroit, Michigan, New York City is completely different. The people that occupied the streets of Detroit, do nothing but eat, sleep, and use narcotics. That's all their occupation consists of. Growing up in the slums of Detroit, all you see is little girls with hanging beads and tight clothes like their mothers running around acting grown while the young boys who still have cavities in their mouths walking around as the next young thug. Women walk around with shorts and skirts that leave little to the imagination with tank tops on.
They talk in slang that prove the white folks right about our race. Tween and teen young men start slanging to help their mother out. Their pants sag low as they walk around like a hard man that they know the'll never be. Old women sit on the porches gossiping with their hair tied up. Old men walk around with the scent of beer lingering trying to find a young lady to devour.
With this knowledge in mind, I decided to be different. I didn't want to be like my elders. Finding a thug to do me dirty and then leave me high and drier then the desert with a baby to raise. That's not what I want for my life. I want to grow to be something, something great. I want to inspire the whole city of Detroit that contains the fellow generation that you can escape. You do not have to be without a father with a whorish mother to claim. You can get your education and leave that place.
I accomplished that goal this morning. I had important items such as clothes, shoes, toiletries, electronic devices and other materialistic items shipped last week to an apartment that I would share with a roommate. Her name is Kira to be exact. I flew out here this morning around 6:00 A.M. It is now about 10:30 o'clock A.M. and I am just now landing.
I grabbed my duffle bag and my purse before exiting the plane. I walked from the location of the plane into the air port. Once I reached the front of the spacious but crowded air port, I stood to the side while searching frantically for my phone which contained the address to the apartment. Once I found my metallic gold iPhone, I went directly into the Notes app and memorized the address quickly. I walked outside, my high heels clacking loudly against the concrete in the process.
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Broken with a Millionaire
RomansaKyree Cash is a twenty-six year old, cold hearted man who would swoon over nothing but his money. He grew up, showered in money, he breathed money, he was the symbol of money. The twenty six year old wanted nothing but to be an artist. He would pa...
