𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.

"So," I said, pointing to a massive block of wrapped up cocaine. "How much is this?"

It was just a chill day for us. Meech took Jolin out to the park, and they spent some time together, getting both of them out of my hair.

Kojo and I were at his place while he took care of business. And I was interested on how the drug game worked for him, everybody did the shit differently.

"That's a key bae," he raised his eyebrow and chuckled before removing his T-shirt. "Run you 'bout 20 G's,"

"Damn," I noted and just nodded at him, looking at all the key's he had sitting on his table. "So, you move all this?"

"Duh," he chuckled, pulling up a chair to the table, and watching me. "I used too anyways; now I get my niggas to move it for me. I'd rather be the nigga behind the scenes. I don't like too many mothafuckas in my business,"

I had a wide range of questions surfing through my mind. And I ain't wanna annoy him too much, so I just watched.

He gave me a pair of medical gloves and a mask that covered my nose and mouth. The wrap trapped the smell, and cocaine had the worst scent.

I pulled the mask behind my ears and slid on both pairs of gloves, and Kojo cut open the brick with a razor blade.

He dumped every bit onto the glass and started to chop it up. "Just fill up these tubes bae," he pulled a box out of the backpack and slid it across the table to me. "Osama and Pookie should be on the way, just ignore they asses,"

I just nodded, taking one of his old credit cards and moving a pile toward me.

Kojo had Rod Wave playing at a low volume, but it helped me forget this tedious process. I wasn't familiar with his music, but there was a lot of pain in his words. So I understood why he listened to him so much.

I noticed he wasn't moving, not even an inch. My eyes raised, looking at him while his eyes were on me. I just assumed he was making sure I was doing this shit right.

"Wh—what?" I stuttered, trying to snap back to reality, and I was nervous, cause what if I was fucking up and he's just watching me.

"Just making sure you know what you doing, that's all," he shrugged, and I know the mask was covering his mouth, but I had a strong feeling he licked his lips after that.

"I know what I'm doing," I gleamed my eyes at him, just making him nod.

"Good, keep it up," his eyes followed the knocks at the door, making sure they were just right before going to answer.

There was a specific knock he'd listen for. Three slow taps and two fast ones, the same way he'd knock on my door to let me know it was him.

He stared back at the pistol on the table at first, but he made his way to the door. Me being in a sports bra and shorts didn't make me uncomfortable, but the calm wind from outside made my teeth chatter.

"Stank in here," a brown skin female with long dreads down her back spoke. She was taller than Osama, who had such a baby face. I always questioned Kojo if he was of age or not.

Meech's friend looks older than him, and he's 16, Osama's 20.

"Got a lot of work slime, got yo' girl helping too?" Osama raised an eyebrow and looked over to me. "How you been, Genie?"

"Good," My words hummed through the mask, and I just went back to doing what I was doing.

Kojo pulled his seat back at the table, helping me sort all this powder into some tiny tubes. It was a buttery feeling, and trying to stuff it inside was more than a mess.

"Where y'all meet at?" The girl squinted her eyes, moving her finger in between us.

"Met her through AJ's girl. Now, I ain't call y'all over here to talk; I got a lot of weight to move so get busy," he glared, making me bite my lip.

I loved it when he took charge, whether it was me, them, or somebody he was serving. It turned me on to see him so severe, and I'm used to the goofy side of Kojo.

"Yeah, aight," Osama scoffed, scooting up a chair and pulling a mask over his face.

"I'm Pookie, what's yo' name?" She smirked at me, grabbing a mask from Kojo.

"Leave my girl alone. She don't wanna be bothered wit' y'all," he snickered, looking over at me with his soft brown eyes.

"I ain't bothered her I just asked her a quest—,"

"Pooh shut yo' ass up. Bro, I got some shit to tell you," Osama waved his hand, looking over to Kojo. "Niggas onna street been talking. And that nigga Nino say he want smoke wit' you. But you know how I'm coming behind you. Nigga say he got beef witchu that's beef wit' me too,"

"Smoke wit' us? That nigga broke as hell. I ain't checkin' onnat bitch ass boy," Kojo chuckled and flexed his shoulders.

"It ain't on no money shit, Koolie. Niggas been talking and Jersey outchea saying you put hands on her," he continued making me cock my head to the side and raise an eyebrow. "Now you and I both know that bitch cappin'. I ain't think she was messy like that foe,"

"Messy as fuck, why you think I stopped fuckin' wit' her. And she lucky I ain't popped up on her ass. Gone be lights out for everybody, including that nigga Nino," he went off, it's like this girl got under his skin.

I had my thoughts about them. I didn't know if there was any unfinished business between the two or not. It would have to be a topic for another conversation.

"That nigga got it out for you. We gone have to ride by his spot later on," Osama began plotting and me being me. I kept my eyes on them while I did what I was supposed to do.

I was an observer, didn't say much around a large group of people. I liked to scope out anything that stood out to me. Their exchange was natural as always; you could tell they were best friends.  And I loved that all of Kojo's friends were down to ride for him.

And he was always down for his kind.

It didn't matter the weather, the occasion, whatever. Kojo loved all his people, and all his people loved him. 

"I ain't pulling up on shit. He the one with the issue, so he need to press it," Kojo scrunched his eyebrows together. "Niggas know where I bet at,"