Red Bull

Red Bull, Part 3

Red Bull Chapter 3

Dear God, I'm not your favorite son. Some say you like Joshua a little more. Other people say you like Jamison. Today though God, I think we all are praying. All three of us have fucked up but the next generation is better than us God. They have so much hope. I can see it in their eyes that they are going to bring love back to the Wallace family.

Don't take my baby away. Don't take away my Isabella.

God, if you're listening.



Keep her safe.

I made the promise before.

I was 16. I had been fucking girls by then. I had become a legendary player in my neighborhood, so notorious that no girl would give up any drawers and I ended up having to start up two separate rosters in neighboring school districts. Lets just say there are cold nights when you are young and horny and shit just doesn't happen like it used to.

I'm at Londrick's house and he says his homie is coming over. A homie we haven't seen in a while.

"Whattup–shorty—-miss you man!"



I still remember how attractive he looked. It was as though my big roster didn't mean a thing. Meek had left the neighborhood and I had filled his shoes. I had become everything that Meek was supposed to be. I had literally become Meek. The shy, quiet guy that I was had been replaced. Now the man who I modeled my life on was right in my face again. Young, baggy pants sagging below his ass with a Tupac T-shirt and a Blue bandana tied around his waist. He crip walks all over the place with excitement of seeing me again. I spread a smile but all the while I'm more amazed then anything.

"I wasn't even planning on staying here," Meek states halfway through the night, "But damn, I missed my little homie."



I remembered my face being flustered like I was a young kid, "You did?"



He smiles slightly. Londrick notices I think. It's late at night and by now we had been smoking and drinking. Everyone was lowkey chill.

"Yeah bruh...we were close man," he states, "So fucking close. Remember how we used to look at our dicks to see which one was bigger. I was with you when you nutted for the first time and you thought something was going wrong with your fuckin' body."



He laughs. I want to. It's one of the most hilarious thoughts in my life but I can't because Londrick—a nigga from the hood, is there. And for some reason I can't allow myself to have happiness. I can't allow myself to be great in these moments. I am anxious wondering about what someone was going to say if they misunderstood what I meant.

"We were fucking a girl...riding a train on her," I correct for Londrick so that he understands that there was a third party in the room.

God forbid he get the wrong idea. The worst thing in the world was if Londrick got the wrong idea back then.

"Oh...yeah..." Londrick states.

Londrick's voice trails off because at this point Meek had made his way over to me in the house. Again it was late and he was high. He keeps rubbing on the side of my shoulder and I don't really think nothing of it. Niggas in the hood get touchy when they high. That's just how things work sometimes. You never thought nothing of it.


I even struggled to think something of it when Meek settles his eyes on mine, smiles and stops rubbing me. He just presses his hand on my arm and holds it.

"Damn, you changed..." he states, pausing, clearing his throat and adding, "I mean, you look good. You grown up man. Look at you."



I'd been so star struck by him that I hadn't said much that night. I had forgotten that by this point I was THEE Joyous Wallace. I was out here really having young niggas in the hood looking up to me. They looked up to me so much that at that point I was a boss. At that point everyone knew my name. That was during the heat of the war with AK's gang.