𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢 ∘⋆ || 𝐝.$𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐬. 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧

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a r m a n i

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The atmosphere was filled with nothing but good energy. Music blasting, people dancing and vibing with each other. I usually don't bring myself to come out to these kind of things but tonight was a celebration. I wouldn't dare miss out on the homie's 25th birthday. A quarter century? That's big. It's the age when you really start to realize that all the mistakes and shit you've been through in the past, no longer matter. It's the age when you grow up mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It's the age where the path of becoming the better version of yourself opens up for you.

As I walked through the crowd of moving bodies and clouds of smoke, I was stopped by just the nigga I was looking for.

"Mani Money! This really you?!"

I chuckled deeply and brought him in for a hail up. "Wassup, Puff? Happy birthday, man."

"I appreciate it, man. Thank you. Didn't think you was gon' make it, you know? Since you became mister big time real estate agent and all. Ain't got no time for ya nigga anymore!" He jokingly exclaimed, throwing fake jabs at me.

That's right. A young, successful black man in the real estate market. That's what I was. It was something I took interest in right before I graduated from high school, after damn near half my teachers from all 4 years were convinced I wouldn't amount to shit. I wasn't the greatest student and my grades weren't always up to par but once my senior year came, I got myself together and graduated with flying colours. After that, I was certain I wasn't gonna go the rest of my life being stereotyped or labelled as the typical black man. Fuck all them teachers.

Now don't get me wrong, a hustle is a hustle and I don't judge anyone for their decisions in life. I grew up in the hood so I know what certain circumstances feel like. Shit, Puffy's one of the biggest drug dealers out here but he's still my nigga regardless. However, I tend to keep my distance for obvious reasons. His lifestyle is dangerous and I can't afford to get caught up in no bullshit. I'd obviously love to see him do something other than what he does, but the choice is his. He's a grown ass man.

I snickered and lightly pushed him on his shoulder. "Nigga, c'mon now. 'Ion ever miss yo birthday, why the fuck would I start now?"

"Aye well, make yaself comfortable. There's drinks and food in the kitchen... and a lot of fine ass hunnies ready to get fucked. Don't tell Shania I said that though." He disclosed, referring to his long time girlfriend.

"Aight, man." I chuckled and shook my head. I made my way into the kitchen to grab some food and a bottle of water and took a seat at an empty spot by the dining room table.

Puffy's house was big as hell. There was a shit load of people in here but there was more than enough room for everyone to still have some personal space. That's one thing I always hated about parties, how people be so close to you and how musty it gets. How the fuck do people even have fun like that?

"Anyone sitting here?" A voice interrupted my thoughts while I chomped away at my food.

I looked up and seen a woman pointing at the chair next to me. She was dressed in a black bomber jacket, a black shirt underneath that exposed her stomach, baggy black jeans, and two short gold chains around her neck. One was a cuban link but not the big kinds that niggas wear, this one was more suited for females. And the other had a cross pendant hanging from it. Her long black hair was parted down the middle and fell perfectly past her shoulders while her dark brown orbs pierced at me slightly from above her sunglasses that were scarcely slid down the bridge of her nose.