Intro

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Intro

Everyone sat around the fire table on the rooftop and drank alcohol except for Imani, who had Rayan’s arm draped around her shoulders. She eyed all the bottles that everyone drank. “Come on, Imani. Drink up,” Rayan pressured her by pushing the mouth of his bottle to her lips. A wave went through her body as her lips yearned for the sweet taste of champagne. “Come on. I know you want it,” he teased. Her lips were pressed against the mouth of the bottle, automatically enjoying every little ounce of alcohol. Rayan bit his lip as he watched his friend gulp the champagne. Perverted thoughts crossed his mind as he smirked. Rayan’s been eyeing Imani for what seems to be forever, but lately, he hasn’t had the time to flirt like he does every time he’s around her.  He’s been tied up with his feelings and his family of, currently, one. That one person is himself. He tries to be around his friends as much as possible considering that his parents are barely home. He’s the only child, and it sure gets lonely in that huge mansion. He just needs something to warm his heart. And the only solution he’s come up with is Imani. “Let’s go downstairs,” he whispers in her ear. Imani, too indulged in the alcohol, simply nodded.

Meanwhile, Alix is staring off into space with Craig. To everyone around her, she’s just the daydreamer, the friend that’s a little “off”. Everyone, even though it never shows, worries about Alix. She was so full of life at one point. Now, she just zones out and sits alone. The only one who knows even one-fourth of her story is Craig. Craig is the one who has it all together. You could say, he’s the glue that holds these niggas together, but that’s only what people think. Craig, or Prodigy as everyone calls him, has problems of his own. He doesn’t like to talk about his problems considering how no one ever listens. The only one who cares to listen is Alix, the daydreamer. Being as though Prod is the only one who listens to her problems, she feels as though she needs to return the favor. Believe it or not, they’ve grown close, and they’ve even picked up habits from each other. But, don’t get it twisted, they’re just friends… Even though Craig is extremely fond of Alix, and Alix cares for Craig deeply, they’re just friends… Hmm, we’ll just see about that.

Chresanto, who’s been immensely quiet tonight, sat with Zendaya by the pool. She rested her head on his shoulder as their feet moved in the water. She was talking about her folks again. Chresanto, though quiet, was listening attentively. He always liked to listen to Zendaya. It wasn’t just because he liked her or anything. He just liked the sound of her voice in his ears. He liked to feel trusted by her. He liked to feel like the only person she was comfortable with. Chresanto liked having her company. It was mainly because his parents are drifting apart, and he’s stuck in the middle. He’s been trying, for years, to hold the family of three together, but it wasn’t working. And now, they’re officially a broken family. With Zendaya, he forgets about whatever’s happening at home. Zendaya, on the other hand, can never get away from what’s happening at home. With her phone ringing off the hook because her parents want to know her whereabouts, she feels as though she’s never allowed to have fun. She’s the only one with an early curfew. She’s the only one who leaves early from a late night party. She’s the last one to arrive to a party, because of her parents holding her up, and the first one to leave. And if that’s not bad enough, her parents are not only strict, but argue as if it’s their occupation. They’ve been arguing since she was eight years old. She’s been waiting for those divorce papers to pop up since age ten. She’s been preparing herself for the divorce for years, but it just never seems to happen.

Concurrently, downstairs in the bathroom, Justine was setting up for what she does every night no matter the occasion. She lined up her coke and pulled out a dollar. Her being an expert at what she does, she doesn’t care about whether the dollar is a single, a twenty, a hundred, or whatever. She just wants to get her temporary high. She rolled up the dollar and began sniffing the white drug. She was halfway done when she was interrupted by a knock at the locked bathroom door. “Justine, come on, Girl,” Jacob rushed her. “Hold on,” she rushed to finish traveling to her high. Once all the powder disappeared from the marble counter, she felt herself start to unwind. She opened the door to see her best friend who she often called “Curly Fry.” “Hey, Curly,” she smiled, running her fingers through his afro. “What were you doing in there, Justine?” he asked, seeming concerned. “Nothing,” she answered quickly before sniffing. “Have you been crying or something?” he asked. She looked into his eyes. That was something she hadn’t done in a while. “Yeah, Jacob. I’ve just finished crying my little eyes out,” she replied, looking down. Even though, she was a great liar, Jacob was on the only one she hated lying to. Everyone else was either just basic bitches or alkaline niggas to her. They’re pretty much the same thing though. Jacob looked at her, struggling to figure if she was lying or not. “Come on,” he took her hand into his and led her to the kitchen. Jacob never really knew whether Justine was lying or not, but he always knew whether she was high seeing as though he’s always around her. He gave her a glass of water as she began rambling about random things. Jacob never really minded Justine’s rants, but when she’s high, it’s pointless. She talks about things such as Spongebob and what kind of pens she likes to write with. Jacob takes this time to just zone out and think about what he’s going to do once he gets home. “I need to finish packing my things. I’m not going to be around all that bullshit. I’m not going to have my things repossessed. Fuck that. I knew I was doing the right thing by paying for my own things,” he thinks to himself.

He has a happy family, but his father, who brings in all the money, has slipped up and now he’s filed for bankruptcy. To avoid it all, Jacob’s deciding to live with a friend. He’s considering Prodigy since he seems to have his shit together, but… Jacob and Prod are distant and haven’t had a full fled conversation in a few months. “You know the ones Staples has. What’s it called? The OptiFlow. Yeah, that’s my fucking favorite. It bleeds through the page too easily though. But I like the X-Tank Roller ball pen. It’s thicker and it doesn’t bleed through that easily, but---.” “Justine,” Jacob interrupted Justine’s rant about pens. “Yeah, Curly?” she asked. “Shut the fuck up,” he smiled slightly. She laughed, knowing he was just joking. “I love you, you know that, right?” she asked. “Yeah, I know,” he nodded. She smiled and sipped the water. “Hey, can we go back on the rooftop?” she asked. “No, Justine. You know we can’t right now,” Jacob told her. Jacob knows that when Justine gets high on cocaine, she gets a little too chatty, and she ends up being the asshole of the group for about a month. So, just until she comes down from her high, he keeps her with him just to be safe.

Just another night as a group of rich kids. Now, from the outside looking in, you’re thinking, “They’re chilling, getting drunk, fucking, and living at the top of the world.” But if I hadn’t given you a little chapter from their stories, you would’ve never known what really goes on with these troubled young men and women. Now that you know just a little chapter of their stories, let’s see where their stories will take them, shall we?

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