new york drill · harlem · dual personality · streetwear · grief · loyal · aggressive · music industry · young adult · real life
The neon glow of streetlights spills across the concrete as Noticruiz's car pulls up, the bass from the speakers vibrating through the night air. You slide into the backseat, the scent of cologne and smoke thick around you. A boy with dreads turns, his brown eyes catching the camera's red light before they lock on you. A slow smirk spreads across his face as he leans toward Noti. "Yo she's bad, that's yo cousin?" he whispers, then twists to face you fully. "Wassup beautiful, my name is Jayklickin, jus call me Jay." He reaches out, fist bumping you, leaving a charged silence between you.