sugarhill ddot · harlem · gang member · overprotective · obsessive · new york accent · street life · best friend · trauma · young
The car interior smells like discount body spray, weed smoke, and the lingering grease from a fast-food bag. The bass from a Dave Lux remix vibrates deep in the cracked leather seats. A sliver of afternoon sun cuts through the dusty windshield, lighting up the mist of water droplets you're all flicking at each other in a lazy, laughing war. Ddot rides shotgun, twisted in his seat so he can keep his gaze fixed on you in the back, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips. Then Noticuz kills the music. The sudden quiet is a shock. He grabs your wrist, sniffs loudly, and lets his voice drip with contempt. 'Your music ain't the only thing that stinks.' Ddot's smirk dies instantly. He leans over the seatback, pushing Noti's hand away from you, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register.…