"I make a call and it's war." - Pop Smoke
The Bronx, New York📍
2:45am
August 28th' 18
The crackling amber flames lash violently at the building, while firefighters work hard to subdue the raging beast from destroying more than the property it was devouring.
Many of the locals stood crowded in the street, shock and sadness written all over their faces as they watch the destruction of the community's most visited safe zone.
Amongst them, the owner stood behind the crowd in a trance, enchanted by the dancing flames. His feelings mimicking that of the raging fire currently consuming his business.
"YO WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE?!" A familiar voice to the owner rages in the distance.
The gaze of the onlookers instantly shifts towards the voice watching in fear as the person moves towards the owner like a brooding storm, his eyes shifting between the catastrophe and the unresponsive owner.
"MICHAEL! BRO? Aye look at me man, you ain't hurt are you cause I swear on mama Imma-"
Pulled out of his dark trance by the comforting grip on his shoulder and the worried tone of his brother, Michael slowly turns his head towards Chris whose eyes were scanning over him to make sure he was physically okay. Satisfied with his inspection, Chris settles his gaze on his brother's neutral one.
"Aye bro, talk to me man." Chris demands in a concerned tone, "What happened?"
Michael's jaw clenches, "Those bastards really burnt down my shop."
"Who?!"
"They really want to ramp wid us huh." Michael chuckles darkly, shaking his head.
"Who we gotta kill, Mickey?!"
Michael's gaze lingers on his brother's momentarily before looking back at his salon spitting out giant clouds of black smoke amidst the dying flames.
"Them bitch ass Italians."
Chris' face scrunches in confusion. "They did this shit?! How you know?"
Michael hands Chris his phone. Chris takes the device, reading the short text message plastered on the screen. His anger spikes over every word his eyes pass over.
(+00)2309 290104
Take this display as a ...gift, Mr Anderson. I'd say it was a warning but unfortunately the Cosa Nostra does not favour that concept. Consider yourself fortunate, next time we will not be as generous.- Signore A. Giovanni
Read 2:35 am
"I swear Chris, Imma destroy every single thing they have till they cease to exist!" Michael seethes.
Chris shakes his head, still fuming at the revelation. "Man, ain't none of them fools even be stepping foot in our ends, how the fuck did they even get to set this shit up?!"
Michael's jaw clenches as he tries to recall back on how and when this could have happened. From the information he got from the firefighters and police when he first arrived on the scene, there were a number of small explosions just before the shop went up in flames.
This meant that whatever caused the fire started within the shop and had to have been put there earlier on in the day...
The Bronx, New York📍
4:30 pm
August 27th' 18
"All I'm saying is Nicki Minaj, MeganTheeStallion and Tink can get ALL this wood, ya feel me." The dark-skin dread head grins, "Shit, they could even hold a couple of my seeds too."
"Kevin, Ion think none of them women into Beastiality so they ain't never gon' want your donkey-looking ass." A beefy looking light-skin man smirks.
Kevin smacks his lip, pausing from the trim he was lining up to look over at his colleague.
"Tyrese you forever tryna talk shit bout my game like you don't see me pulling the baddest bitches. You starting ta' sound like a hater, son." He teases.
Tyrese raises his eyebrow looking up from the fade he was creating. "Baddest? Nigga there ain't no hate in me when I tell you that everybody in here know, ain't none of the females you be pulling bad."
"Facts."
"No Cap."
"Preach Ty."
"This nigga forever calling cricket-and-roach-looking bitches bad."
Kevin looks around the shop in shock as a few loyal customers pipe up with their agreements.
"Oh, so that's how y'all feel, huh? Ite' bet. Next time one of y'all sit in my chair I'm fucking up ya hairline. Pushing that shit all the way back like Stevie wonder, while being on my Stevie wonder, legally blind I can't see shit."
Laughter erupts throughout the bustling establishment as Kevin goes back and forth with some of the commenters, roasting them.
Michael shakes his head chuckling as he begins to line up the little boy's hairline who was sitting in his chair lost in the game on his tablet.
It was a normal day at Trivoli Trims, the unisex hair salon owned by Michael Anderson.
The smooth sounds of Bitty McLean's 'Walk Away From Love' flows from the shop's sound system mingling with the voices in the busy establishment. The familiar scent of hair products, roaring sound of hairdryers and the buzz of razors fill the air, as customers and hairstylists enjoy the usual banter and comforting environment of the salon.
"Kevin you so stupid. Stevie Wonder is blind not legally blind." Amelia, the Latina hairdresser corrects, shaking her head.
"What's the difference?" Kevin eyes her in confusion.
"Legally blind people can still see, Kev. They have 20/200 vision or less so if an object is 200 feet away they'd have to stand 20 feet from it in order to see it clearly. But a person with normal vision can stand 200 feet away and see that object perfectly." Keisha, the St Lucian female barber educates.
Kevin smiles, "See this why you my wife, Kei. You smart and beautiful, Ion know why you won't give me a chance, baby, you know I could treat you right."
Keisha scoffs, "And I also know you have trash tendencies and don't know how to stick to one woman at a time," She fakes a smile, "I'll pass."
Kevin smacks his lips as the shop laughs at the usual rejection he got from the beautiful mocha-skinned woman.
"Aight Kev back to work, ole boy in yo chair tired of your spit hitting his face more than the clippers." Michael muses, brushing off the loose hair off his customer's shoulders.
The whole salon chuckles once more, along with Kevin who holds his hands up in surrender going back to working on his client.
"Aye aye captain." He mocks salutes.
Michael chuckles taking the money from the boy's mother with a warm smile, waving them off before sitting in his chair to rest.
Pulling out his phone, he unlocks it heading straight to his messages. He immediately reads over the ones from his mother and sister who were asking if he was okay in regards to what went down yesterday. Replying, he let them know not to worry and that he was alright.
Even though it was a lie.
It wasn't hidden knowledge that both brothers hated having problems between them.
He understood his little brother's concerns for him when it came to Aaliyah's character but Michael knew he didn't have anything to worry about with her. Especially after she chose to stay and work through the three cheating scandals he'd committed during the first few months of their relationship when they re-connected.
Even though he constantly experienced her vindictive and manipulative behaviour –whether it be through her starting arguments to hit on him or pretending to be sad about her fertility issues to keep him to herself for days, sometimes turning his phone off and hiding it – it didn't bother him much because he wasn't perfect either.
He loved her. Flaws and all.
As if she had known he was thinking of her, a message pops up from his beautiful fiancée.
Wifey❤️💍
Don't spend all day at that barbershop Michael. I need you home
Read 4:55 pm
I won't love, I got 4 more clients left then I'll be back home with you way before closing time ❤️
Delivered 4:57 pm
Not a second passed before she replies:
Wifey❤️💍
🙄 I don't care about what you have left to do Michael. I want you home now! As your fiancée you're meant to do as I say and cater to my requests 😌It's like you enjoy putting me last and making me upset. Since when was your little charity shop hair business more important than me😒
Read 4:57 pm
Michael rolls his eyes, annoyed at her disrespectful comment. He was ready to fire back but stops when he notices her second message:
Wifey❤️💍
I'm sorry baby 🥺I didn't mean what I said... I'm just still upset about yesterday and what your brother said 😔I just want your comfort and love right now, is that too much to ask? ❤️
Read 4:58 pm
Michael sighs, texting her back to let her know that he'd be making his way soon if she'd just give him some time to hand over. He stares down at the three dots floating on the screen, anticipating her response when the sound of the shop bell followed by the lustful whispers of women and respectful greetings from the men chorusing around the salon grabs his attention.
"Wagwarn family." The deep raspy voice resonates within the shop.
Michael's eyes focus on the new arrival along with the many others in the shop. Some of the ladies swoon and drool at the mesmerizing beauty of Chris Anderson as strolls further into the salon. He was truly a sight to behold dressed in his casual red hoodie and joggers, white beanie and a thick gold chain dangling from his neck.
Chris scandal the shop until he locks eyes with his brother. He advances towards him when a soft hand grips his own, pulling him off his course.
"Chris, my favourite dance partner!" The bronze-skinned Guadeloupean woman grins up at him, fixing his arms around her waist, "Dance with me."
The sultry sounds of Slaii's 'La Dernière Danse' play through the salon's speakers as Chris smiles, pulling her closer and sliding his knee in between the space of her thighs. They start to move their waist and feet in tune to the beat slowly.
"Aight ma, just make sure you keep up this time." He teases, moving them in a small square across the floor. She laughs, slinking her arms loosely around his neck as they sway to the zouk-styled beat of the music.
When the song was over and the people gave their round of applause, Chris plants a soft kiss on the woman's cheek before continuing his journey over to his brother.
"Chris you find a girlfriend yet?" One of the hairstylists named Gina from Trinidad and Tobago questions him.
This spikes everyone's interest and all ears, especially the ladies', tune in to hear his answer.
Chris, who now in front of Michael, looks over at the woman with a charming smile, "Nah, baby, not yet."
"You looking for one?" A young Montserratian woman bats her eyelashes.
"Chanel, why you asking as if you don't have a husband at home? All now he waiting for you to cook his dinner." Keisha reminds her, sending everyone roaring in laughter. A slightly embarrassed yet amused Chanel rolls her eyes with a playful pout.
Chris chuckles, shaking his head, "Nah I'm cool on all that, Gina, I'm a busy man and my focus elsewhere right now, no woman would deserve the half-assed time and affection I'd be giving."
The girls melt at his thoughtful response while a few of the men smack their lips and roll their eyes at their dramatics.
"Aye Gina, I got all the time and affection in the world ready and available for you baby," Kevin calls out flirtatiously.
Gina scoffs looking back towards the sew-in she was installing, "Hard Pass. Your hoe ass seem to have time for EVERYBODY." She looks over at Kevin pointing at him, "AYO LADIES! THIS NIGGA OVER HERE BELONG TO THE STREETS!"
Everyone cracks up once more in the shop as Kevin and Gina get into a small playful argument.
Chris shakes his head looking back to his brother who was watching the scene with an amused smile.
"Hey Bro," Chris starts, drawing his brothers eyes up to his, "Can we talk in the back real quick?"
Michael stares blankly at Chris, causing him to sigh and lick his lips, ready to start his apology there. But Micheal stands up abruptly, slipping past him, motioning him to follow.
"Aye, y'all hold it down out here, Imma be in the back for a min, Ty and Keisha, y'all in charge," Michael calls out. Keshia and Tyrese nod in response.
Exhaling deeply, Chris follows into the back and down the corridor to his Michael's office. Michael opens the door, holding it open for Chris who thanks him as he walks in, before walking over to his desk. He sits in his chair leaning back while Chris takes a seat in front of the desk mimicking his position.
Silence lingers between them as the brothers stare at each other before Chris speaks up.
"Likkle marga boy huh." Chris chuckles. "So that's how you really feel, Mickey?"
Michael couldn't help the smile that cracked on his face nor the chuckle that slipped past his lips.
"Nigga that's all you got from the argument yesterday?" He shakes his head, amused at his brother's stupidness.
"Nah, I also got that I was wrong for not acknowledging your feelings and spilling shit that was only meant to stay between us," Chris sighs. "I'm sorry bro, forreal. I ain't never say all that shit to hurt you."
Michael leans forward, "I know Chris, but you gotta understand, even if it's done to hurt Aaliyah it's gon' hurt me."
Chris rolls his eyes.
"And that's it right there!" Michael remarks. "Your actions don't only affect her but me too! That attitude when it comes to her, Chris, it's gotta stop. I ain't saying y'all gotta be best friends or shit like that but if you love and respect me then you'd at least give her some respect as someone who is attached to me."
"Mickey, you know it's any and everything about you and I'll always do what you ask from me, but I can't stand that woman! And I can't be fake about it bro, I'm sorry." Chris shakes his head stubbornly, "You're the only blood brother I have and I refuse to watch her drag you down and hurt you all the time, Michael. That shit ain't right no matter what you think."
Chris believed that regardless of the problems Michael may have caused in the start, it didn't warrant the constant distress Aaliyah tormented him with. If she wasn't ready to move on from the hurt then she should have left his brother alone. Besides, even before Michael's first cheating incident, she was already showing the red flags of her manipulative and controlling behaviour. She was toxic from the jump.
Michael sighs, staring at his brother who was now bouncing his leg, a habit he had picked u and used whenever he was trying to control his nerves, looking away from his brother.
Michael knew what he was asking of Chris would go against his very nature but he was tired of the two most important people in his life constantly fighting! He hated having to pick sides because in reality, it wasn't choosing a side that was hard the part, it was the guilt he felt after.
Before he could reply, a brief knock on the door pulls the brothers out of their deep emotions.
"Aye boss man, delivery's finally here, they slow asses talking 'bout they been backed up for the day." Tyrese's voice calls out from behind the closed door. "You coming to chew they asses out?"
A light chuckle escapes from the brothers.
"Nah, they'll live this time. I'm in the middle of something but handle it and make sure they stack that shit properly in the stock room." Michael orders.
"Aight boss man, say less," Tyrese replies before heading back to the front of the shop.
Michael and Chris gaze at each other once more before Michael speaks.
"Look, baby bro, I'm just tired of being stuck in the middle and I just expect you to make it easier for me especially knowing how much you care for me. Honestly, bro, I can handle shit from her but from you..." He shakes his head, "It's actually painful. I hate arguing with you Chris, you know that."
Chris heaves a heavy sigh, "I know bro, so do I."
"Then for both of our sakes, can we not have to do this shit again and for my own can you please just tolerate Aaliyah?" Michael requests.
"I can do the first one but I ain't know too much about the second, bro." Chris shifts in his seat, feeling the pressure.
Michael stares at him before shaking his head, amused. "Aight how bout you just pretend she don't exist. Don't say nothing to her and avoid her like the plague."
Chris grins, "Now you speaking my language."
Michael rolls his eyes chuckling, "You stupid, son."
Chris gets up from his seat and makes his way over to Michael's side of the desk, "But you still love me and that's all that matters."
Michael stands, welcoming his brothers embrace "Always."
Chris smiles enjoying the comfort and reconciliation with his brother. Michael was the one person he couldn't bear the distance from and to him not speaking to his brother for almost 16 hours was torture.
Michael pulls away from the embrace, kissing his brother's forehead which Chris playfully wipes away in disgust.
"See, there you go taking this shit too far now" Chris smacks his lips playfully, moving back round to his seat.
"What? So I can't show my firstborn some love anymore? Listen kid, you ain't never too old for my affection." Michael teases sitting back in his seat.
"Nigga you're only one year older than me! We're practically twins, relax."
The two brothers chuckle and banter falling into their comfortable bonding routine of sharing a blunt, discussing any and everything that came to mind.
An hour had flown by before Michael realised it was time for him to head home to Aaliyah as promised. Although Chris was annoyed by the way she had managed to get him to leave early, he didn't keep Michael chatting any longer. He even volunteered to count delivery stock while Michael went out front to handle business and let his staff know he'd be leaving.
When Chris has finished counting the boxes he went back onto shop floor going over to Michael, who was at the front desk talking to the receptionist about rescheduling the last 4 appointments he had today.
"Aye bro, next time I volunteer to do some stock room check shit, tell me no cause some of those boxes were heavier than a bitch!"
Michael chuckles, "Like I said before, likkle marga boy need fi eat and build muscle."
Chris side-eyes Michael, "Okay you can let go of that lame ass diss now. We all know it ain't true, I'm toned and built nigga, don't play me."
Michael shakes his head amused, "Whatever helps you sleep at night bro. You count how many boxes there were in total?"
"I counted 25 boxes, that sound correct to you?"
Michael nods, "Yeah."
o~O~o
The Bronx, New York📍
3:00 am
August 28th' 18
"It was the fucking delivery!" Michael seethes as realisation dawns on him.
Chris' eyebrows furrow in confusion before his eyes widens in shock. "Some of the boxes were bombs, what's why they were so heavy."
Michael hisses, "And it explains the delay on delivery, they probably infiltrated it and fucked it up!"
The two brothers look at each other feeling the motions of anger and vengeance grow within them. Not a moment later, a familiar comforting maternal voice calls out with worry drawing closer to them.
"Oh, my baby! I was so worried that you were inside when it happened." A pair of arms snake around his waist causing Michael to look down at his mother's worried face checking over him, "Thank God you are okay!"
Along with his mother, his sister stood waiting to give him a hug while KD and The Six Kings stood around them desperately waiting for answers.
"Mickey, bro you good?"
"Yo, what happened?"
"Who did this?"
"Who we finna kill?"
Michael looks around at his boys before looking down at his mother and sister, returning their affection. He let them know he was fine and kissed them both of them on the forehead before instructing them to speak to some police officers for information.
As soon as they were out of earshot he turns to his team, informing them about what he and Chris had discovered.
Meanwhile, Chris was zoned out from the conversation still fuming at the revelation, feeling guilt shoot through him every now and again.
'You should have checked out those heavier boxes.' He mentally chastises himself.
Noticing the shift in Chris' gaze, Michael lays a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Don't even think about it like that Bro. It was all them and best believe they gon' pay for it."
Just before he could voice his objection Chris feels his phone vibrate, notifying that he had received a message. Thinking it was probably some shit from the Italians, he pulls it out reading over the words, growing even angrier than before.
Without words, he hands Michael his phone:
(+718) 567 659
It's not nice when people mess with your business now is it 🤔 This is just the beginning bitch boy, shoulda killed me while you had the chance 😈
Read 3:10 am
"And the hit list continues to grow." Michael scoffs, passing the phone along to boys to read.
"Of course that pussy had something to do with it! Can't do shit on his own. Always snitching for help." Chris chuckles darkly, realising Damian's role in this mess. "I really should have killed him that day huh."
"Don't worry sweat it bro, you'll get another chance real soon." Michael's voice drops to a low chilling tone as a slick smile tugs across his face, "Since these mofos wanna play with fire, we'll make sure they fucking burn."
Burning down Michael's salon was more than cartel business beef, it was a personal attack...
...It meant war.
.......................................................................................
A/N:
DAMN, not the shop! Just when we were enjoying the vibes!
So guys, what we saying? We riding out with the boys on their revenge tour? Or are we teaming up with the Italians?
Who's side you picking?
vote and comment and we'll see you soon x