“Once you decide to choose Quality over getting paid, you’ll find that the quality you strive for makes the money you're looking for.”
THE STREETS THAT RAISED ME,
12th JUNE 2016
A NEW DAY FOREVER
BEEP, BEEP!
(THE ALARM GOES OFF.)
***
The insistent blare of the alarm pierced through the morning stillness like a sharp knife, jolting me awake from my slumber.
"Yo, wake your lazy ass up and shut that noise off! !" Mama hollered, irritated by the noise of the seventeen continuous alarms that had gone off. Her frustration was palpable, cutting through the air like a hot knife through butter.
"And bring your behind to the store; we're fresh outta pork chops and peas❗️"
With a tired yawn and a full-body stretch, I finally peeled out of the warm embrace of the mattress, feeling every muscle groan in protest.
Slipping into some grateful clothes, the fabric rough against my skin, I couldn't help but feel a sense of duty weighing heavily on my shoulders.
I made my way to the corner store two blocks from the yard.
Sundays have always held a special place in our house. mama's cooking turned even the simplest meals into feasts. IT'S also the day we all unite as a family, despite our struggles.
Growing up without a father figure, I was raised by my mother and four sisters.
AS the only man in the house, it was up to me to hold it down and take care of my family.
No question
It's been a struggle,
but that ain't never stopped me from thinking about the day Mama can finally kick back and relax.
I knew i had to figure out how to stack that paper one way or another.
Before I bounce from the cramped-ass apartment we call home, I always show some love.
A kiss for Mama and a friendly reminder to my sisters that their lace was liftin'.
In the end, It's the little things that matter.
THE CORNER STORE
As I finally arrived at the store, familiar faces greeted me. Kevlar and a couple of his guys were there as usual.
It didn't surprise me that they were posted because, well, they were always posted there.
Even though I f*cked with Kevlar, I couldn't shake the feeling of increased risk with only short-term rewards in his hustle.
He was A 16-year-old runner for one of the top dogs in New York.
While Kevlar believed that kind of life could change my future, I couldn't ignore the fact that it didn't benefit me or my family's well-being.
"What's good, K?" I asked, greeting him with a nod.
"Every day seems like yesterday, young creator," Kevlar replied, flashing a hood-rich smile.
"When you tryna make some real dough to accelerate them dreams you're always talking about? You ain't gonna get nowhere sleepin' on it!"
As I said, I f*ck with Kevlar, but I never imagined entertaining the game that the youth in the neighborhood were consumed by.
We left Dublin in search of a fresh start, escaping the streets that had nearly destroyed my family because of my uncle's choices. It would be selfish of me to jeopardize that opportunity. So, as I always did, I made it clear to Kevlar that I wasn't about it.
"I ain't into that, K. You know me, and you know where my morals lie." I asserted firmly,
Kevlar, true to his character, respected my decision.
He had always been that guy—cold-blooded and morally calculated.
Despite his young age, he was already an MVP of the game, earning accolades within Mr.Roc's crew. He stood out from the rest—an update of the modern gangster; funny enough, he wasn't even aware of it.
That's why Mr.Roc rated him. He saw K as the youngest in charge.
WALK WITH ME
Kevlar left his post and walked into the corner store with me.
"Yo, why did you stop inviting me over to your mama's Sunday feasts? You know I've got a large appetite," Kevlar playfully asked, wearing a sly grin.
Without missing a beat, I replied, 'You know why. Her dishes ain't the only thing you've got an appetite for.
Learn your boundaries, and you might get that invite one day.'
Growing up as the man of the house, my four sisters were off-limits to anyone who wasn't worthy of their time, which definitely applied to this fool. But I didn't need to worry because my sisters weren't interested in settling for less anyway.
AN ICON LIVING
As I approached the cash register, clutching the ingredients I needed, the store doorbell chimed, announcing the entrance of three men.
Their well-tailored shades of grey suits fit them like a second skin, accentuating their sharp features and confident presence. Their flashy watches spoke volumes about their success and taste.
It was evident that these were high-class men.
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They donned top-notch Italian threads, geared up and prepared for whatever came their way. Before I could inquire about their identities, Kevlar welcomed them like old friends, proving they were no strangers.
Mr. Roc, accompanied by his closest associates Jabari and Bones, stood before me.
I never thought I would see the day that I would see him in the flesh. The streets whispered about them as if they were legendary figures, like modern-day disciples.
"I've heard a lot about you, Ten. Kevlar says you are the next big thing, so it's good to put a face to the name" He says with a convincing smile.
Kevlar always praised the top dog, and he did live up to the description. What surprised me even more was that he knew my name.
I had no clue what Kevlar was getting at when he dropped my name, but I showed him some respect and thanked him nonetheless.
"I ain't gonna front, word on the street is you've been making moves," I said, giving him a nod of respect. "What brings you to our neck of the woods?" I asked. "I thought you were living it up in Long Island."
"And I do, young hustler. But Who would I be if I didn't come around the blocks that raised me?" Mr. Roc's voice carried a mix of authority and nostalgia.
“and sometimes I gotta keep an eye on how things are rollin'.
Can't let the game slip away from my grip, you know?" He responded. "So, when are you gonna step up and fill my shoes, make that leap?"
There was a hint of challenge in his voice.
“Yo, I’m working on it, boss, ” Kevlar interjected, shooting me a look that said, “Play along.”
"Ten and I were just discussing potential ventures we are trying to build, and sh" t is going in the right direction-"
“Man, I’ve told you a hundred times, watch your language,” Mr. Roc cut in, irritation clear in his tone.
”Using that foul sh*t is only gonna close deals for you in the long run.
"Don't get left behind, playa."
COINCIDENCES OR DESTINY
Having come here for a specific purpose, he turned his attention to the shopkeeper and gave a slight gesture. It was clear that code had been established between the two.
Homeboy caught on and dipped to the back, only to return quick as flash, looking like he just saw a damn ghost with his face all drained of color. Before he could raise the alarm, a bullet had pierced through the left side of his skull, and he became lifeless instantly.
As survival instincts surged, everyone in the room sought cover, the thundering echoes of footsteps from the back of the store bullied our ears, and shots were fired.
How the f*ck were we supposed to survive this?
After the barrage of bullets cooled off, Mr. Roc and his men pulled out MAC-10 semi-automatics, and with stealth and wealth, they each got into positions in the smoothest transition.
Mr.Roc always came prepared, and there was death in his eyes.
He pushed two glocks in our direction, but only Kevlar reached out and grabbed one.
BUT Me? Nah, I wasn't cut out for this shit. I was still reeling from the shock of the shopkeeper's demise. But the show had to go on, regardless of the fear drenching my insides.
TRUE INSTINCT
"Mr. Roc whispered instructions to his men, initiating a countdown.
'Three... Two... One,'
The atmosphere sizzled with anticipation.
As Jabari made his way to the counter, he deftly switched on the radio, creating a diversion to distract the opps.
Amidst the chaos, Bones wasted no time.
He dashed forward with agility, swiftly silencing two goons with precise and expertly placed bullets, leaving them sprawled on the floor.
Seeking refuge behind a sturdy pillar, he positioned himself strategically, ready for whatever may come next.
Finally getting the courage to pick up the glocks, Kevlar and I slowly crawled toward the backroom door on our stomachs pressed against the cold, hard tiles. The pounding of my heart reverberated through every fiber of my being, drowning out all other sound.
Before I could stop him, K jumped up and charged into the backroom, recklessly shooting like a dumb thug. Reacting instinctively, Mr.Roc speared Kevlar to safety, but not before a stray bullet grazed his shoulder, leaving him wounded. With Mr. Roc no longer controlling the situation, we were at risk.
As the gravity of the situation dawned on me, Jabari tried to take matters into his own hands. In the blink of an eye, the once-bustling store transformed into a scene of unimaginable violence.
just before I could swallow one death, I had now witnessed four deaths in the space of five minutes.
CLIMAX
"Let it go, Roc. The game is done with you." a voice echoed from a distance, its tone laced with a chilling finality.
so you either walk away or face the music. This is your only chance of surviving, n*gga. I ain't playing!"
The words hung heavy in the air as the man with the faint voice approached, flanked by four imposing figures.
Time was slipping away, and Bones knew he had to think fast. It was do-or-die right now, and he realized he had to break free from his comfort zone—a realm that no longer existed anyway.
Bones took a moment to bless himself and reload his bullets before emerging from cover. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he swiftly took down three more n*ggas, a testament to his upbringing in the unforgiving streets. Yet, as he stared down the barrels of the remaining two guns, his confidence wavered. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon, acknowledging that his nine lives had run out.
"If your really about it, fight to the death. If I gotta die today, I gotta go out with respect." He declared calmly, steeling himself for the inevitable showdown.
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The tension peaked as C-Note, his voice filled with hysteria, pressed the cold steel of his gun against Bones' temple. "When y'all n*ggas gonna realize that the streets are getting colder?"
With no other options left, Bones closed his eyes, accepting his impending defeat.
..(SILENCE SHATTERED BY TWO CLEAN GLUNSHOTS)
The bullets punched their way through C-Note and the other guy’s neck, one after the other, leaving gaping holes in their wake that quickly filled with blood and gushed out. Both men crumpled to the ground, a pool of blood formed around them, soaking into their clothes as they choked to death.
In that moment, Bones understood that everything had changed.
Ever since that day, I became a killer at the age of sixteen.
NINE MONTHS LATER….
"What do you think about sending a message to Mickey Fletcher and his boys with a few bricks as a welcoming gift to the city?" Roc asked with a wicked grin, fueled by the sight of the stack of cash K and I were counting up, he felt unstoppable, and it showed.
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This quarter, Roc had raked in more money than he had in the past six years. He took care of the local competition, wiping them off the map, and now with neighborhood gangs popping up left and right, he adapted and seized control of the game. As the top dog, Roc handled the pressure like always, but this time, he he had the right circle around him.
"You already have the answers, Roc," I replied assertively.
"I knew we were cut from the same cloth the minute I met you," Roc empathized as if I were the son he never had. "One day, you'll have it all, just like those before you."
Being able to say his name on a first-name basis, Roc saw the quality in me. I didn't live in his shadow.
I embraced it.
I made him realize that it wasn't always about numbers but the quality of what you stand for and deliver.
Once you understand This, it gives you the luxury to choose whatever number pleases you.
“GET WHAT YOU PAY FOR & MORE.”
With no complaints, the price of the brick went up.
Together, we exceeded expectations, rebuilding the organization from the ground up and faced the obstacles that came our way with our chest out.
Running the streets was no different from running a thriving business.
While I admired his determination to succeed, I realized that the life he built was not sustainable forever. I learned that if I wanted something I've never had before, I needed to be willing to do something I had never done.
It all boiled down to perspective. In the end, I saved lives at the age of sixteen.
I watched my mentor, a mirror image of myself, navigate an operation with exceptional profit maximisation due to his strategic decisions.
Ultimately, I understood that I was the creator of my story.
Quality is day 002.
#10OUT
