NELLE.

CH 1.

I sighed, looking out the second-story window of my bedroom. Watching Pharaoh as he smirked alongside Triniti, one of the side hoes he kept around every now and then for safekeeping.

He just wanted Pussy. That's all it's ever been, that's all it ever will be.

Crossing my arms over the window seal and placing my head in between the opening of my arms, I continued to watch them interact with each other senselessly. He was now opening the car door for her, she smiled and carefully stepped into the car; once being seen that she was securely seated, he closed the car door and traveled along the other side to climb in himself.

I shook my head, waiting to hear the engine of his black Zenvo TS1 GT take charge.

Once hearing the engine roar, I was no longer interested in watching them leave as I simply began walking downstairs, and towards the kitchen, where I very much easily raided the Liquor cabinets in the search for something exotic.

Being imprisoned in this house for most of my life was nowhere near fun, and with me being the current age of Seventeen nothing ever got better; it got lonely in this house often, and quite frankly boring. Though as I grew older I quickly learned to cope with my loneliness through Cannabis and Liquor, I sluggishly grazed my fingertips along with the designs of each bottle, cautiously examining each of the Name Branded Beverages:

Smirnoff Pineapple Vodka, Clement Creole Shrubb Martinique Orange, Black Raspberry Ciroc Vodka, Black Cognac Hennessy—.

"Pharaoh's gon' whoop yo' ass," A deep voice chuckled from behind me.

I jumped and rolled my eyes before turning around and placing my hands flat down on the kitchens island.

It was Trés who had spoken, one of Pharaoh's right-hand Men for about as long as I've known him, I simply laughed and turned back around to grab a shot glass from one of the further away cabinets.

"Are we talkin' about the same Pharaoh?" I questioned, merely arching my eyebrow while getting ahold of the shiny black bottle that read, Black Raspberry Ciroc Vodka, and began pouring the contents of the bottle into the glass.

I downed the first shot in one gulp.

One.

Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I grinned at the sweet taste that began to overpower my taste buds, though the feeling was quickly shaken off as I poured another shot.

Two.

I grinned yet again, turning back to look at Trés, a look of displeasure washing over his face as he watched my every move.

Last one. I thought to myself while grabbing the bottle and counting to Three, gradually beginning to pour the dark fruity liquid into the glass.

As I was about to down the last shot it was quickly removed from the palm of my hand, my face fell as I looked back to see a hysterical looking Trés with an empty shot glass in his hand. I groaned, slightly slamming the cabinet doors shut. "I'm going in the living room," I huffed, already being halfway out of the kitchen.

Walking past Trés, I gave a small smile while lifting my middle finger into his eyes view. He rolled his eyes and gave me the look, as he followed me into the living room and onto the couch.

Trés played different roles; based on the simple fact that he's one of the only individuals Pharaoh's ever trusted, nonetheless, I've always looked to him as a brotherly figure. Though it was always funny to me when he tried to set me straight, Lord knows he wasn't great at it . . . but it had its perks here and there.

"How long you think Triniti finna' be around?" I questioned, mind being somewhere else other than its current state.

Trés shrugged, "'Ion know . . . Why?"

I mimicked his shrug. "'Ion know . . . I just don't fuck wit' her. Somethin' about her vibe is off to me."

He only laughed at my statement, "You've been around Pharaoh too long. Paranoia, that's all you feelin'."

I smirked and shook my head, "Nah, . . . 'Ion think it's that at all, but presume as you please."

I paused for a moment, thinking about how exactly I wanted to bring up the next conversation; I knew what I was trying to say, I just ain't know how to say it.

"Nah . . ." I trailed off.

"Deadass though . . ." I tried again, Nothing.

I then cleared my throat hoping it would get some type of reaction. Which in a way, it did.

"Fuck you want Nelle?" Trés questioned, voice slightly agitated from my previous attempts, which was understandable.

"I needa' get outta' this house. 'Ion got no type of Friends, no type of Social Life, this shit is crazy Trés." I quickly stated.

Trés said not a word; I slowly turned my head to see him glaring at me cautiously, I sat up straighter awaiting his response, slightly crossing my fingers and staring directly into his pupils.

He cringed at my gaze and quickly looked away.

"Ight muh' fucka' Goddamn . . . I'll talk to Pharaoh. Can I have my soul back now? The fuck," Trés exclaimed while rolling his eyes.

I smiled and jumped up from off the couch, "Thank you T!" I exclaimed while moving towards him in order to give him a hug, though he quickly extended his arm preventing me from moving any further.

"Uh–Uh, see, you don' fucked it up." He shook his head and stood up, proceeding to walk towards the kitchen.

I laughed as I watched what he was doing,

Walking towards the counter, he opened the cabinet above, specifically the cabinet I had previously been in prior to our conversation: The Liquor Cabinet.

My heart skipped beats as I saw him reaching for another Shiny Black Bottle, though this one read, Black Cognac Hennessy.

I swiftly ran into the kitchen, just about stumbling over my feet as I met him at the counter with an enlarged smile and the shot glass that had been previously used. Placing the glass next to his, I tapped his shoulder as I spoke, "Another round for the Lady, please Sir!"