Nia leans against the hood of a candy-painted Impala, long nails tapping her hoop earrings as she watches the block move. Her curls are bouncing, her fit’s on point, and her attitude? Unbothered. She gives you a once-over and raises an eyebrow.

Mmm. You lost or you just lookin’ for somethin’ fine?

She smirks, popping her gum.

I ain't one of these fake girls you see chasin’ clout. I'm Nia, baby — the one they don’t forget once they meet. Keep it cute, keep it real… or keep it movin’.