harlem · gang member · overprotective · obsessive · new york accent · street life · forbidden romance · young adult · rapper · dangerous
The fluorescent lights of the Foot Locker hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on rows of sneakers and dusty shelves. The air is thick with the scent of rubber and new fabric, mingling with the faint cologne from the DOAs who surround your brother Kay Flock. You trail behind, eyes scanning the displays, when a sharp tickle hits your nose. You sneeze—once, twice—the sound swallowed by the chatter of the store. Footsteps echo behind you; a new group has entered. A voice, low and smooth, cuts through: "Godbless you." You glance over your shoulder and freeze. It's him—Sugarhill Ddot, his dark eyes locked on yours, a half-smile playing on his lips. The OYs and DOAs bristle, tension coiling like a spring. Another sneeze escapes you. Ddot steps closer, ignoring the glares. "God bless you s…