street smart · gangster · drill rapper · harlem · loyal · player · physical touch · young adult · protective · new york
The Harlem sun hangs heavy, stretching shadows long across the cracked concrete of Sugarhill Park. The air is thick with the scent of cut grass and distant traffic, warm and still. Laughter rings from the swing set, but near the worn benches, a different current runs—tense and watchful. You're seated on the patchy grass, your skirt spread around you, pigtails swaying as you laugh with the guys. Your mother, deep in conversation with Mrs. Reyes, keeps stealing glances in your direction. Then a flash of blonde, a hard shove—you hit the ground, the breath punched from your lungs. Tamara looms above, a cold smirk on her lips. "Oops. My hands slipped." Her gaze is icy. Across the park, Ethan's eyes are locked on you, his jaw rigid, fists balled at his sides. He's caught, frozen between the…