Harlem Tales (A$AP Rocky)

Everything in this story is completely fiction and if anything stated here is offensive to you or your religion or your race, I am truly sorry. Everything is written to portray an event or a person and is not in anyway meant to hurt your feelings.

- Ashley

   "Harlem is one of those places where it's a state of mind. When I'm gone, I'm still in Harlem."

                                                                                    -A$AP Rocky

Rakim 

    The smell of blunts and fake Gucci perfume was my normal alarm. I stretched out my arm and hopped off the bed. Well rolled considering the only thing I had that was close to a bed was a small queen sized mattress which was covered in blankets. "Rockyy? That's you?" Called a voice in my living room.

     Stepping out into the living room, I nodded at my father, Myron, who was surrounded by white women. I raised an eyebrow at the scene, especially because I could not see my mother in the crowd. I was only 12 at the time, but I knew that something wasn't up with the scene. Myron sucked his teeth at me. "Don't just stand there child, say hello to the females." He said cackling at his own joke.

     I payed no mind. "Where's mom?" I asked crossing my arms. Myron cackled at me. "Out getting grocery. You never pay no mind to me." He stated in his thick accent. I rolled my eyes at him, disgusted with the females in bras and underwear picking at him as if he was some king. "Grab me that box near that *red-skin ting." He ordered.

     I wanted to obliged, but I knew better than to disobey my father. It was one thing to disrespect him, but if he wanted something, it was either get it, or suffer. I walked over towards the counter where a tan girl was cleaning the dishes. I picked up a black box and dropped it near Myron's feet.

    He reached down and picked the lock, revealing an array of bundles of cash. One by one, he began to hand each of the ladies their share. He looked down at his watch. "Get dressed and scatter, my wife should be here soon."  He stated as he closed the box and slipped it under his hand. "Speak no word of this," He said as he *jucked me hard in my stomach. I leaned back in pain as I watched him carry the box to a hiding place.

     Ever since that day, I couldn't stand white women. Their sultry ways and everything reminded me of my father and how they didn't give a fuck about how they were hurting my family. I knew one thing for sure; I wasn't going to get married to no white women.

     "Rakim." Darold, otherwise known as Ferg, stated as he snapped his fingers into my face causing an aray of ash to fall onto my plain white shirt. I sucked my teeth at him. "What now?" I asked. I looked at the clock that was sat on the counter in the studio. "Listen to this." He stated as he began pushing buttons.

     I sighed and sat back in my chair and awaited as the beat began. In a matter of seconds, the beat dropped. I had to admit, the beat was pretty deep. But it was more of a Ferg type beat, but as a friend, I was willing to drop a couple bars. "What do you think?" Ferg asked as he leaned back and looked at me. "It's good, but when you gonna let me put a verse on it?" I asked smirking at him.

     "Whenever you down." He answered giving me dap.

Amethyst 

     "Thank you Harlem!" I shouted into the crowd as the beat of 'Work' drifted into silence. I smiled at the pleased fans who had just witnessed an Iggy Azalea performance. I turned around giving the crowd a perfect view of my perfect body, and stepped into the darkness of the curtains.

     "Amethyst!" My Manager, Grendy, a tall Hispanic beauty, stated as he took me into a deep hug. "Gosh, that performance was sick." She stated squealing. I rolled my eyes at her. "Oh what did you expect? I am the Iggy Azalea." I said smiling at her.

     Grendy threw up her hands in defense. "Well, Jeez. Don't get too cocky, now." She stated jokingly. I responded by giving her a weird look and answering in my most sweetest tone, "Me? Cocky? Never that." 

     "Since you so big balla, when you gonna take me to that A$AP Rocky concert?" Grendy said immediately putting on her innocent facade. For the past month, Grendy had been obsessing over this Harlem based rap group known as A$AP Mob. In particular, A$AP Rocky. Considering the fact that we were delayed in Harlem for another week or so, she had especially raised the bar in pestering me.

     I sighed. "When's the concert?" I asked. "Tomorrow, at PlayHouse Venue, only about 2 miles from our hotel." Grendy stated. I wanted to say yes, but I wasn't one for big affairs. My own was a different story, but I hated having to watch someone else's attention. "I'll think about it." I say. It wasn't a no, but it wasn't a yes. 

     If I had it my way, we'd be on our way to Australia now.

A/N

Okay, so i'm not really good with Urban stories, but I'm trying something different. I hope you guys enjoy it! Comment, Vote, you know the deal.

*Red-Skin ting - to grab attention or to describe a good -looking female.

* Juck - to jab, poke, or push.