"Man, this shit smells like ass," Mook said, taking a puff from his blunt, his big round face wrinkling up in disgust as the smoke swirled around them. He was leaning up against the rough brick wall right in front of the prison gates, looking like he couldn't care less that they were practically sitting in the cops' backyard. His oversized hoodie and jeans hung off his body like they were a size too big, and his eyes were bloodshot from too many nights of the same ol' thing.
"You just mad 'cause you too high already," Tyrell, his dark-skinned, dreadlocked homie, shot back. He was flicking his lighter like he was trying to start a fire, eyes scanning the streets for any signs of trouble. "Ain't nobody got time for your complaints."
Mook blew out another cloud of smoke, the pungent scent drifting up. "I'm just sayin', Ty. We out here, in front of a damn prison, smoking like it's the block. What if the guards hear us?"
Tyrell snorted. "Man, they already know. Ain't like we some damn strangers around here."
Before Mook could say another word, the creaking of metal rang out. The prison gates started to open, slow and loud, like a warning bell that things were about to get real.
"Here we go," Tyrell muttered, his fingers snapping the blunt in half and stuffing it into his pocket.
Mook wiped his mouth, nervously shoving the rest of the weed in his hoodie. He was too slow for his own good, and Tyrell was already standing up, ready. Kade was coming out.
Kade wasn't some legend, some street god like Mook and Tyrell wanted to pretend. He was just a regular guy, built like a dude who lifted enough to hold his own but didn't go overboard. He wasn't overly tall, not some intimidating figure. But he had that look, you know? Like he could kick back with the homies and still take care of business when the time came. His dark, short hair was growing out a bit too much, but he kept his fade fresh enough that he didn't look too ragged. His hoodie was nothing special, just plain black, and his jeans were a little loose, his sneakers scuffed from too much running around.
He stepped out of the prison gates like he was just another guy coming home, but there was something about it—the air felt thick with his return. He stopped a few feet away from Mook and Tyrell, his eyes narrowing at them.
Mook grinned, throwing a hand up. "Yo, Kade! It's been a minute, fam."
Tyrell followed up with a nod, flashing his gold tooth. "We missed you, man. This shit ain't been the same without you."
Kade just blinked, still giving them that same calm, deadpan look. He wasn't in a rush, not in the mood to talk much. "I can tell."
Tyrell scratched his head. "Man, things got bad since you been gone. Ain't nobody respect us no more. We need you to get back in it. Ain't no hustle without you. Gang's falling apart."
Kade shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground for a second before letting out a breath. "Yeah, well... y'all might need me, but I ain't got time for this shit no more."
Mook's face fell. "What the hell you talkin' about, Kade? We need you. Ain't nobody else got what you got. We could be making stacks again, running things if you just come back."
Kade took a deep breath, looking up at the sky like he was just tired of the same ol' cycle. "Look, I'm done with that life. I ain't playin' these street games anymore. I got other plans now."
Tyrell shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips like he couldn't believe it. "What the hell you mean, other plans? What, you tryna be some legit businessman now or some sh*t?"
Kade shrugged, his face blank. "Maybe. I ain't doing this illegal hustle no more. I'm done with all this noise."
The smell of weed still hung thick in the air, and Kade wrinkled his nose like he was already over it. "And y'all still smokin' in front of the damn prison? You trippin'."
Mook sighed, leaning against the wall. "Yo, we just tryin' to keep it real, Kade. Ain't nobody out here really got it like that no more. Ain't no respect for us, and we been fightin' this sh*t alone."
Kade rubbed his temple like he had a headache from this entire conversation. "I hear you. But I ain't gettin' back into that game. Y'all gonna have to find someone else for that."
Tyrell wasn't backing down. "Yo, man, all we ask is that you hear us out. Just come talk to the boss. Maybe you don't gotta get your hands dirty, but we need you to help us grow again. For the hood. You owe us that much."
Kade paused, looking over at them, his expression softening for a second. "I don't owe you shit, Tyrell. But... fine. I'll hear you out. But this ain't gonna be like before."
Mook and Tyrell exchanged a look, then nodded. "That's all we need, fam. Just one more shot. We'll talk to the boss, but you gotta be there with us."
Kade let out a breath and nodded. "Alright, whatever. Let's go."
He got into the car without saying much else, and Tyrell slid into the passenger seat. Mook squeezed into the back, all heavy and loud, but still full of excitement. He turned around to Kade with a grin. "Yo, you want a hit, man? It's the good stuff."
Kade shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Nah, I'm done with that."
Tyrell shot a sideways glance at him. "We'll see, Kade. We'll see."
The car rumbled to life, and they drove off into the night, the city lights flickering past them. Kade wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, but he knew one thing: he wasn't going back to what he used to be. Not without a fight.