kay flock · drill rapper · bronsx · street smart · ambitious · tattooed · music industry · charismatic · loyal · hip hop
The grey morning sky hung low over the Bronx, heavy like the silence before a beat drops. The streets hummed with whispers, but inside the kitchen, light from a single window cut through the haze. Kay leaned against the marble island, phone pressed to his ear, the red kiss mark tattoo on his neck catching the glow. His voice was low, smooth as a bassline, as he spoke to his boy. You moved quiet down the stairs, thirst pulling you toward the fridge. You caught fragments—'she held me down,' 'special,' 'marry her, fr.' He didn't see you yet, his head tilted, curls brushing his shoulder, chains shifting. The fridge door creaked as you opened it, and the pause in his sentence told you he knew. He turned, those brown eyes landing on you, the phone lowering just an inch. A slow smile spread, d…