rapper imagines.

finer things| polo g. (1/2)

"Yeah I know,
You be posted up from Sunday to Saturday Night.
Started hanging with the members,
then you Blew a few pipes.
And you goin' do the dash if you see them blue lights.
A lot of people dying and it's a chance that you might
You got God on your side, but it's hard to do right.
Don't pay them haters no mind, you can be what you like.
Tryna leave this in the past, grinding for a new life.
-
I grabbed the last bowl in the sink with my wet hands and twirled my sponge in a circular motion. I watched as the more I swirled it; the more soap appeared. But no matter how much I scrubbed there was one stain I couldn't get out. I continued to scrub and scrub but got fed up and dropped it back in the sink.

Maybe it just needs time. Time to soak. I thought to myself.

I took a deep sigh and looked outside the window above my sink. The only thing illuminating the roads were the streetlights. There were a couple of people outside, a couple of voices, rather. They were too far to see them but close enough for me to hear. I heard faint, overlapping chatter, and words I couldn't make out. This was a usual thing, seeing that this was the normal night routine where I lived. There were always people on the street. From crackheads, to drug dealers, to even little kids up to no good. I was used to it. Was I happy we lived here? No. Was it the only thing we could afford at the time? Yes.

My baby wasn't one of those people, though. No, not my son. He was fast asleep in his room by this time and every night I went in his room to check. He'd always get mad at me, claiming that I never let him go outside to play with his "friends". I didn't care, simply because I knew, those children were not his friends. Those children just wanted another person to be in the streets with doing, God knows what. My son was not going to turn into the people I hear every night. Not another statistic. He was not going to get lost in the streets, not then, not now, not ever. I've seen what the streets do to people. It sucks you in, chews you up, and spits you back out. The streets don't love anyone, but everyone seemed to love the streets.

He wasn't going to turn into his daddy. I wasn't going to have 2 boys in the house that I had to stay up for; one was bad enough. Every night I would wait for his father to come home. If I ever fell asleep, my phone would be right next to me on the loudest ring, just in case... You know.. I hated this. I hated worrying about if the man I love was going to come home in one piece, or even at all. I was afraid the police or the many members of the street would steal my chance of hearing his last words.

This was all Taurus knew, however. To hustle, to get money by any means, legally or illegally. As long as he saw green in his hand, he didn't care if looked down at the rest of his body and saw red. But this wasn't what IIII wanted. I just wanted to have a normal life. But to hell what I wanted, right?

I turned the water off and got a paper towel to dry off my hand. I stared at the bowl in the sink, shaking my head. I hated leaving dishes in the sink, it was a secret pet peeve of mind.

It just needs time. Just needs time to soak. I repeat my thought.

I opened the fridge, for what seemed like the 7th time tonight, and hoped for some new food to appear. I stared at how deserted it was and the carton of milk caught my eye. I lifted it to my ear and shook it only to hear what had to be no more than a pint. I looked above the fridge and saw the green rooster looking back at me.

"Corn Flakes it is," I said out loud.

I prepared my little bowl of cereal and took a seat on my hard couch. I looked around at my spacious room, and then my eyes hit the TV. It spoke loud nothings to me, mainly because I wasn't focused on it. I flipped my phone over, and it read that it was close to midnight. Taurus still wasn't home.

I had checked my phone multiple times during the night and by this time all the cereal in my small bowl was digested. I had called him multiple times, and it would go straight to voicemail. I had gotten more worried as each minute passed. Just when I felt like I couldn't take anymore, I heard the turning of locks by the door.

My eyes darted to it and a loud footed Taurus walked in. I immediately stood up, ready to greet- well curse out, the brown skin man who just walked in.

"Where the fuck were you?" I said. I was relieved but so fed up that this had become a normal thing Taurus did.

"Getting some money," he said, nonchalantly. He closed the door and reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a stash of money in rubber bands that had to be no less than 2 grand. He set both stacks on the round table beside the couch.

"Taurus," I whispered.

"That's for groceries," he said. "I know we ain't got shit in the fridge so tomorrow, stack up for you and my son." He slid the money on the table toward my direction.
"Taurus, where did you get this from?"
"Don't worry about it. We needed money, now we got it. You, nor my son are going starve when I'm around."
"I can't accept this," I shook my head.

"Why not?" He scrunches his face.

"Because, I don't know where or who you got this from. I mean, who does this belong to? You can't just get this type of money overnight."

"I can and I did," he snapped. "The money belongs to us and either you goin' take it, or I'm goin' keep it. Either way, there's going to be food in the fridge tomorrow and the rent is going to be paid."

"Where did you get this from? You can't make this much money without owing somebody back."

"Don't worry about it," He repeated.

"Why can't you get a regular job, like me?" I asked.

"And make minimum wage? Nah. Besides, I'm a dropout with charges and felonies," he looked at me blankly. "Who's going to hire me?"

"I can help you." I took a step forward leading him to take a step back.

"No, (Y/N), you don't understand," he sighed.

"No Taurus, you don't understand. You're in the streets all day and night and you got your son and I pray to God every night you come home alive. I jump every time my phone ring. Every time, hoping it's not about you. I'm tired of living here. I'm tired of putting my son on lockdown because I don't want him to end up dead in the streets. You know what the streets do to people. You know what it's did to your friends. You know what the streets have done to you, Taurus. It's only a matter of time, until you end up in a box or a cage. Please Taurus, I'm begging you. I'm tired of this life. Aren't you?"

He stared at me as if he wanted to say something else. He looked down at the money, then back up at me. He shook his head and his face softened.

He put both his hands on my shoulders, "Take the money, (Y/N)," he said. "Goodnight."

He walked past me and proceeded to go into my sons' room. I looked back down at the money on the table and shook my head. I felt uncomfortable taking all this money. I had a feeling that it belonged to someone else or came from a place that it should've been left untouched.

For some reason, at this moment, I thought of the bowl that was in the sink earlier. No matter how hard I tried to have Taurus leave the streets, he always found another reason to stay, just like that stain in the bowl.

"Maybe he just needs time." I repeated my thought again. "Time to soak, time to think."
—
authors note: this is one of two parts. the second one will be published sometime next week hopefully. comment & vote. thank you for 3k reads 🥳

songs of the week
martin & gina x polo g
open(passionate) x kehlani
tonight 2 x sheff g
all bad x future
demons & goblins x fivio foreign