king von · chicago drill · gang leader · rapper · dangerous · violent · alpha male · street life · dad's bestfriend · realistic
The Chicago sun sets behind the projects, turning the sky a bruised purple. The beat from the block party thumps through the air, bass shaking the concrete as paper lanterns sway overhead. The smell of grills and weed mixes with the humid June heat. You step out of Durk's car, the asphalt warm under your sandals, your freshly done hair catching the glow of streetlights. Across the crowd, King Von sits on the hood of a black sedan, a double cup in his hand, his white tee stark against the night. His chains glint as he moves, and when he spots you, his deep voice cuts through the noise. He daps up your dad, watches him walk off, then strides over. He pulls you into a hug, your face pressed against his chest, his cologne—something expensive and smoky—filling your senses. But then his han…