Harlem Nights
- LECTURES 5,026
- Votes 120
- Chapitres 3
Contenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture40m
Dernière publication jeu., janv. 30, 2020
East Harlem has changed over the years but the drug game remains the same. The Empire needed more recruits for their exports, and this is where Messiah Santos comes in to this beautifully painted picture. Born on June 3rd 1985 only the age of 25 already caught up in the fast life.
After dropping out of school at a very young age, he turned to selling drugs for the most prominent Kingpin in Spanish Harlem, where a few years later, Messiah got his throne. He went from selling synthetic marijuana to drug user for a dollar or two. Over the years, the area got worst with crack cocaine and other drug addictions where Messiah and other gang members supplied their needs.
We all are a product of a Harlem night,no matter who you are, from the stripper, entrepreneur, prostitute, social worker even the everyday poor man. We're all connected.
Join Messiah and his gang mainly related to petty theft, murder, drugs and prostitution.
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"Montana, come here." He nodded his head toward the door, leaving out of the room. Staying silent as Ms. Carol looked at me, I kissed the back of Josiah's hand before leaving out of the room. As I walked out, Messiah stood there looking at me in disgust while I closed the door. "What are you doing that shit for?" "Huh?" I said since I had nothing else to say, just trying to stall time to get my words together. "Why are you stripping, Monty?" Sighing, I decided that I wasn't going to lie like I'd originally planned to do after listening to Chocolate's stupid advice. "Money." I spoke simply and he scoffed as I looked down. "Why not just ask Josiah for money instead doing hoe shit?" "First of all, It's not doing hoe shit. I don't have sex with anyone. I just dance. And I don't want to ask him for any money. It's not his job to take care of me." "So stripping..." He trailed off with a laugh. "..stripping was the last resort? Instead of putting your pride aside?" Saying nothing, I just looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please don't tell him, Messiah." I could already tell by the look on his face that he was going to tell him. "I ain't gon' tell him.." Thank God. I thought. "..you are." "What?!" I shrieked. "No. I'm not." "You are." He spoke in a demanding tone. "Please. You know how he is." I expressed "And you know how he is too but you made that bed." "Messiah, he's going to kill me." I begged. "I know." He shook his head, walking away from me. "Better figure it out. You got until the end of the day to tell him or I will." He mumbled before walking back into the room.Terminé
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