Victorie (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 1

Niggas really ain't shit & don't know how to whisper. "Damn that lil bitch is bad bro. I know you gotta be fucking her, " dude say to my best friend's cousin Jaison.

" Nah," Jaison says. "That's just my homegirl from around the way."

"Well you need to be. Shorty is like a lil Jhene Aiko, but with way more ass. I would definitely hit that," some cross-eyed ugly dude with an odd shaped head says.

"Nah nigga, you definitely wouldn't be able to hit," I respond catching them all off guard. "Plus I doubt that a helmet wearing nigga like you would be able to handle this pussy."

Jaison laughs as his friend looks stupid.
"Rommel, this Victorie. Victorie, this is my homie Rommel," Jaison tries to properly introduce us. Rommel probably too embarrassed just gives me a head nod.
You ready to get busy bro?" I ask Jaison. "I'm ready to knock this chorus and this hook out, so I can get back home to my baby. Plus I have to work in the morning."
"Yeah," Jaison responds. " I already knocked down my verses. I just need your sweet angelic voice on it to make it flame."
"Well let's get to it," I say before entering the booth.

"Now that shit right there is hot!" Rommel says when I lay down my vocals. "Shawty can blow. I gotta give it to her even though she got a nasty ass attitude. Where you found her anyway?"

"That's my cousin CeCe's best friend," Jaison answered. "Victorie is cool people though." He then signals for me to come out the booth.

"So how'd I do nigga?" I ask Jaison.

"Shorty you killed it," he replied. "This is exactly what I needed."

"Well if that's it, then I need to be on my way back to Compton. My mom and Zuri are waiting on me," I said.
"Well here's your bread," Jaison said as he peeled off two hundreds from the knot in his pocket. "My homeboy that works at Fire 107 is supposed to see if he can get the DJ to play our track. Torie, this could be the start of something big for us."
"Good," I said. "Then you could leave the dope slanging alone."
"Well I gotta get mine some kind of way." Jaison shrugged.
"Well thanks for the paper," I said while grabbing my bag.

There'd been countless times when niggas have said that this one track would make us famous. I've worked with almost every aspiring rapper/dope boy in the hood. Singing had become a pleasurable side hustle for me. It's how I made my pocket change. My job at a small clothing store only provided enough to help with a few bills, buy my baby her Pampers, and pay my mother for babysitting whenever I needed her.

As I made my way to my lil beat up ride, I got lost in my thoughts. Growing up in the hood surrounded by gangs, drugs, and murders definitely isn't easy. It's risky just being a regular law abiding citizen. You have to constantly pray that you never get caught up in the crossfire. I wanted so much better for my daughter. Maybe this song with Jaison could be my ticket out. I mean he is a great rapper, and people around the way love his mixtapes. But then again who am I kidding. That's just people from the hood, not worldwide. Fairytales just don't happen for people like me. We just have to play the cards life deals us and get it how we live. That's just the way it is. Sighing deeply, I pull off and head home to my pride and joy.

As I pull up to my house, I stare at the bars on the windows. The hood to me is just like a prison. Some of us get stuck here, never leaving, and sometimes die here. At just 20 years old, I'm starting to realize a lot of things. Things that I don't want for me, my mother, my baby sister, or my daughter. In order for us to actually live, we'd have to move away. It's not that easy for two single mothers.

As soon as I walk through the door, my troubles seem to fade away as my beautiful one year old daughter Zuri runs up to me giggling and reaching for me to pick her up. Despite the fucked up situation with her dad, she's my biggest blessing. Her sperm donor Ramirez is ten years older than me, and I was his little young play thing until I became pregnant. He denied that the baby was his, and dumped me. I contemplated abortion for the longest, and I'd settled on adoption until I actually gave birth to her. I fell in love with my beautiful curly head chubby cheek baby when the nurses placed her in my arms. I decided to name her Zuri which is Swahili for beautiful. She's brought me nothing but joy.
"Hey baby!" I say picking her up. "I missed you so much. Give mama a kiss!" Zuri pokes her little lips out and leans forward. She laughs as I smack her loudly on the lips.

"Victorie, where have you been?" my mother Victoria asks when I step into the living room. " I thought you got off at 6."
"I did ma, but I had to lay this track down with Jaison," I replied.
"Well you know I only agreed to keep Zuri while you work. Not for all that extra stuff. I've told you time and time again," she complained.
"I know ma, but I made some extra money," I said. "Here." I pulled out the fifty bucks that I'd set aside for her.
"Thank you," she smiled. "So what's the title of the song, and did you kill it?"
"Well... It's called Me and You," I grinned. "And of course, I killed it. I always do."
"Well alright then. I hear you lil Keyshia Cole!" she says.
"He says he thinks he can get it played on Fire 107, but I'm not holding my breath," I tell her.
"Vicki, baby, you've gotta be optimistic," she says calling by her nickname for me. "Think good thoughts. You never know what can happen."
"Yeah, I hear ya ma," I said making my way to my bedroom.