#but I don’t want it to wind u o like the poly series where I started to feel like I was just dragging it out

[sluttyten]

I just finished writing chapter 16 of unholy, and I really kinda want to take a break free this since I’m caught up to where I initially wanted to end the story, like it just feels like if I were writing this as a book this is where I would end book one

[ecotone99]

[MF] Streetlife

Logline: Through a series of fortunate events, a kid whose whole life was one of crime turns his life around in one weekend, but will his past and draw to streetlife pull him back in.

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"I don't think this is the right. Jordan, Jordan," Ricky cries as he attempts to walk and put together the gun that his brother gave him. Jordan's in a hurry, a drug deal is about to go down, and if he's late, there's a good chance the customers will leave, that's money out of his pocket.

"Yo, cool it with that gun, put it away, we're almost there," Jordan says as he picks up the pace.

"It's broken, I think," Ricky says. Jordan rolls his eyes.

"I asked you to get rid of it," Jordan ordered. Ricky places the bits in his pocket and the handle in his waistband. In an industrial park site near the high school, an old Cadillac pulls up; they're looking at Jordan, who waves at Ricky to stand back. The driver of the Cadillac nods, signaling it's alright for Jordan to approach the car, Jordan did. He's starting to take out a bag of heroin, around 50 grams. When he takes two steps towards the Caddy, he notices a police car from the corner of his eye, waiting across the street. With Jordan's record and the 50 grams of heroin he's carrying, he's staring at eight years in prison if caught,

"Run!" Jordan said to Ricky.

A siren flashes, the cop's vehicle pulls out and blocks the entrance, stopping the Cadillac from leaving. Police officers exit the cruiser and draw their weapons on the Cadillac. Jordan and Ricky have already made their way down the street into the neighborhood; one of the police officers on the beat starts to track them down. They weave in and out of the yards of Watts, Los Angeles, California. They're both born and bred; they know their way around these streets. Ricky has a tough time keeping up with his brother, so they go their separate ways. The police officer decides to follow the slower Ricky; he's headed to the recycle center, a dead end. The chase is over; the police officer draws his gun, Ricky drops to his knees, hands on his head.

Ricky was charged for unlawful possession of a gun; it didn't matter that it was a broken gun, taken apart into about 30 pieces. Ricky is 16, Jordan doesn't sweat it, he's a minor, he's going to be out in the streets in two years. The street, the streetlife they call it, it's a way of life for Jordan and Ricky, for all the things they've gotten away with, this arrest was a long time coming.

Jordan was fortuitous enough to get away from the police that afternoon; he wised up, he began to be more careful. He was a major player in the local street gangs. In two years, while Ricky was in juvie, Jordan climbed the ladder, and by the time Ricky got out, he was running a crew of fifteen dealers.

The first day Ricky gets out, he's going to find his brother, just like the old days, the now 18-year-old, has changed in juvie though, he doesn't let on, but he no longer feels the draw to streetlife. He goes back to his brother because it's the only thing he's ever known, vandalism, trafficking, coercion, abuse, and, of course, drugs. One day, as they hang out at the crib, Ricky, fed up, says, "Man, I have to get out of here, this racket is nothing but a dead-end for me."

"Be careful little brother, great things are about to happen," Jordan reassures him.

"I can't do it, I'm leaving," Ricky says. Ricky gets up to leave, and Jordan pushes him back down on the couch.

"Where you think you're going, I need you, is that how it is, you leave your brother, your blood; mom would never forgive you," Jordan guilts.

Ricky remains for the next couple weeks, planning his final departure. They're in his crib when one of Jordan's dealers comes in, "Hey, 5-O spotted on their way," he says. Jordan jumps into gear, "This is a bad time for this, RJ, Sivo, grab the stash and put it in the bunker," Jordan says. He begins searching about, takes his keys, continues searching, sees Ricky. Jordan throws Ricky his car keys, "I need you to drive my SUV to 960 Juniper Street, put it in the garage off the street so no one can see it, you think you can do it, can I trust you?" Jordan commands.

"Yeah, I'm going to do it," Ricky begrudgingly says as he leaves.

Ricky takes off in the SUV, looks back, and sees three police officers breaking down the door, and seeing Jordan's surrender. He got out of there in the nick of time. When Ricky gets to Juniper Street, he notices 960, but by mistake, he's driven past it. However, because of the mistake, he sees in his rear-view mirror that an unmarked police car pulled out two houses away from the garage. Instead of making a U-turn, Ricky continues heading forward, the unmarked police car follows.

He needs to perform all manner of maneuvers to try and lose the unidentified police car, going up to 60 miles an hour on side roads; eventually, he loses the cops when he crosses the railroads on Fernwood Avenue. He just continued to drive; this SUV was too hot, he got on the freeway and flew.

Ricky finds himself in a section of Los Angeles named Downey; he exits the freeway when he realizes he's low on gas, he pulls into a gas station. He's out of money, almost out of gas as he enters the store. He sees a girl; she can't be more than 20; they start flirting with their eyes. She gets a cup from the Icee machine. Ricky sees his chance and slips in behind her.

"Hey, do you prefer the red or the blue?" asks Ricky.

"I don't know, little of both, I suppose," the girl responded.

"What's your name?" Ricky questioned.

"Roberta," she said.

"That's a nice name, that's my mom's name," Ricky says, smiling. Roberta smiles back, "this is kind of weird asking, but I'm in a bit of a jam, I'm almost out of gas, and I got to get this SUV back to my brother, I don't have any money," Ricky charms.

"I'm going to help you out, but I need one thing, though," Roberta says.

"What is it?" Ricky asks.

"You've got to come with me to this party, I don't want to go alone," Roberta says flirtingly.

"That's cool, I'm down to dance," Ricky says as he gives a spin.

Roberta pays for her Icee and some gas for Ricky; they're off to a club called, "The Lucky Lounge." Roberta's cousin rented out the VIP section of the nightclub to celebrate her birthday. Ricky, a pretty good looking guy, impresses a number of the girls in there. It's karaoke night, and Ricky is forced to sing for the girls at the party.

Ricky picks an old, slow jam that gets all the girls wound up, "Nice and Slow" by Usher. He's a brilliant performer, the voice of an R&B star and dance moves of Micheal Jackson in his prime. Girls are rushing to the stage like he's the real pop star. A man in a suit pulls him aside when he steps off the stage.

"Hey kid, I typically don't do this, but that was a really good performance. My name is Charlie Gregory; I run a club up in Las Vegas, we have a showcase going on this weekend, give me a call, they're going to be talent scouts there," Charlie says as he slides his card into Ricky's pocket.

Roberta was impressed; she's trying to hold him in the VIP area so that he doesn't get inundated with all the girls in the club. They wind up chatting all night and get close,

"So, you suppose you're going to do the showcase this weekend?" Roberta asks.

"I don't think so, I don't have a dollar to my name, I have to get my brother's car back, man, I have to make sure my brother isn't in prison," Ricky says.

"I think you're supposed to do it; you've got the ride, I'm going to lend you some money, you're definitely never going to have this chance in your life again," says Roberta.

"I'll do it on one condition, you come with me," Ricky says, tempting. Roberta accepts, and they take Jordan's SUV to Las Vegas for the weekend.

The showcase is on Saturday night; there's plenty of time to have fun in Vegas. This break from streetlife is just what Ricky needed to be doing. Roberta fell for Ricky, and in exchange, he fell for her. They made out at the water show in front of the Bellagio Hotel. Ricky, for the first time in his life, was happy.

The night of the showcase was here, Ricky killed it, he did Stevie Wonder's "Superstitious" first, and received a standing ovation. Later in the night, he performed "Can't Feel My Face" by The Weeknd, bringing the entire showcase to a close. Ricky won the showcase and was awarded a trophy with a figurine on their knees with the mic in its mouth, Ricky joked, "If I put this up in my house, people will think I won some sort of blow job competition." Everybody laughs.

Roberta and Ricky partied through the night; people were giving out recording contracts, multi-album offers, along with all the other benefits of becoming a pop star, he was on the top of the world. At the time Ricky left Vegas, his future had been made, he had a verbal deal with Zarkyria music, out of Los Angeles, all he had to do was go down there on Monday and sign the contract, and he'd be a millionaire.

Ricky and Roberta were making their way back to Los Angeles on Sunday afternoon. Out of the blue, Ricky struck something on the road and blew out his driver's side tire. He pulled over to the side of the road and opened the trunk to get his spare. Buried, where the spare tire was meant to be, was three million in cash, in what he later learned was Mexican cartel money. No wonder Jordan wanted this car out of sight.

"I can give you the money back now," Ricky laughs.

The flat tire set them back; they didn't get back to LA until two o'clock in the morning. Roberta knew her roommate had to get up early, so she and Ricky went back to Watts. He figured everything would have blown over since Thursday night, so he went back to his brother's crib.

The Mexican cartel was waiting for him, as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle, two men with machine guns opened fire on the SUV, killing Ricky instantly. The Mexican cartel took the money out of the SUV and allowed Roberta to live. Bloody, she marched two and a half miles to the police station, in shock. All Roberta had left to remember Ricky was that trophy of a man on his knees.

In two lucky nights, Ricky had his life figured out, love, career, money, everything he had ever wanted, was becoming a reality. What goes around comes around, Ricky had a gut feeling that it was time to leave his life of violence behind, he was ready; but some people can't outrun their past. No matter how far you drive, the problems you left at home will always be there when you return.

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