Seventeen year old Paris Brooks, born and raised in South Central L.A., is struggling to get over the murder of her mom which she witnessed when she was only six years old. She's not happy like she used to be and goes through many obstacles because...
"Nigga shut yo ass up. You the reason I'm even talking to you from the other side of this glass!"
"Listen if you think I still give a fuck about Paris and her dead ass brother, you must be fucked up in the head nigga cause-"
"First of all bitch, stop talking to me like you hard! And wasn't you just up at Kam house tryna talk to Paris and kiss her ass and shit? After you told her sorry? Now you don't give a fuck about her? Jamar you think what you made me do made you a man? You ain't have the balls to do it yourself homeboy—so you called me to do it. You payed me to kill my nephew! And I was dumb enough to do it! So don't walk yo lil scrawny ass in here thinking-" He got cut off.
"Hold up, blood! You wanna talk about being a man? And having balls?? Bitch you let yo sister die cause you ain't got no balls nigga! So cut that shit out!" Jamar said.
Mario ran his hands down his face, to keep from saying something he would regret.
"You shouldn't have tried to start this gang banging shit, homie. It ain't all peaches and cream. This life not for you Jamar. You could've went off to college somewhere but you decided to drop out to start gangbanging and doing and selling drugs—look, all I need you to do is bail me out."
Jamar looked at him dumbfounded.
"Nigga you got bail? After you killed somebody? For how much?"
"$700,000" Mario said like it was nothing, causing Jamar to look at him again.
"And nigga don't say shit like you ain't been dealing for months now. After all that I done did for yo ass—I better be out this muhfucka by Tuesday. I could've been killed yo ass and you know it. I'm not playing with you." Mario said as he clenched his jaws.
Jamar said nothing as he put the phone up and walked off.
As Jamar got into his car, he called his homeboy Stretch, who had played a role in helping to initiate Jamar into the Mad Swan Bloods.
"Aye homie." Jamar said as Stretch answered the phone.
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~"Stretch"
"Wassup?" Stretch said through the phone.
"You never hit me back. You find Paris when you went to Florida last week?"
"Yeah I found her. She got a nigga homie. It's confirmed, dumb ass."
"Fuck" Jamar sighed.
"The nigga a lil bit taller than me. He bout 6'4. So nigga if I was you, I wouldn't fuck wit em. He look like he'll beat yo ass."
Jamar smacked his teeth. "Nigga if he can beat my ass he can beat yours too!"
"You can't fight. I can. We not the same." Stretch bluntly said.
Stretch was very blunt, no nonsense type guy. If genuinely made him smile, you should be able to receive a reward. That's how hard it is to make him smile.
Jamar stayed silent.
"Look nigga I don't know what yo obsession is wit Paris, but you need to back off. For real. It's too much shit you need to be worried about. You got a baby on the way in 3 months, you hopping from couch to couch, yo girl barely fucking wit you, you in a fucked up situation homie. The last thing you need to be worried about is a bitch you blew yo chance with."
Jamar stayed silent for a while.
"I need help bailing Mario out." Jamar said as he took in what Stretch just told him.
"Mario??" Stretch said through the phone. "You tryna get yo'self fucked up?!"
"Nigga come on bro. Help me." Jamar said.
"How much is it?"
"700,000."
"I got you on this one cause that's what homies do. But I swear next time, you gone be assed out nigga. I done went way out for yo ass too many times now."
"Preciate it bro." Jamar said, genuinely thankful.
"Get to work homie. You got shit to do." And with that, Stretch hung up.
What y'all think is gone happen once Mario get out?
