πππππβ π ππ π πππππ π πππππ πππ
β’.ΒΈβ‘πππππ πππππ π πππππ ππππ ππππππβ‘ΒΈ.β’
β πππππππ ππππ πππ πππ π πππππ πβππ ππ ππππππ π ππ πππ β β πππ ππππππ (ππππ πππ ππ ππππ)
you were raised far away from NYC β but after your cousin was shot in the Bronx, your aunt sent you back to live with your grandma on 187th. you knew nothin bout the streets, but your cousin? his name was D.D. Osama β and he died too young.
ever since you moved back, rumors followed you. some said you was D.D.βs blood cousin. others said you was his twinβs ex that disappeared. but no one really knew your truth. until the day Notti Osama saw you walking past the corner store, headphones in, hood up, looking like a ghost from the past.
he wasnβt supposed to talk to you. his gang said stay away. but when he looked at you, it was like seeing D.D. in your face β like you carried his soul. he HAD to know who you were.
βAyo ma, you got a name or you just gonβ haunt me all day?β he smirked, leaning on the wall, licking his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.
you looked up slow, pulling your headphones down.