Chapter 1 - Stay Out the Way

Trey don't do crowds. Ain't never been his thing. Too many people, too much noise, too much bullshit. But here he is, leanin' against the hood of his car, posted up outside this block party like he actually wanna be here.

Jazz got him out the house talkin' 'bout, "Bro, you don't never do shit, live a little." But this? This ain't livin'. This just a bunch of drunk niggas hollerin', girls in tight fits dancin' on whoever close, and music blastin' so loud the bass damn near vibratin' through his chest.

He check his phone. 11:47 PM. He give it fifteen more minutes before he dip.

Somebody stumble past, damn near spillin' Henny on his sneakers. Trey shoot him a look.

"Watch where the fuck you goin', nigga," he mutters, voice low, sharp.

The dude mumbles somethin' and keep it pushin'. Smart. Trey ain't in the mood tonight.

He cross his arms, tryna drown out the noise when he hear somebody yell, "Nigga, watch yo' fuckin' mouth!"

Trey glance up. That's when he see him.

Zay.

Small but loud. Got dreads hangin' in his face, skin glowin' under the streetlights. He wearin' some ripped jeans and a bright-ass hoodie, jewelry shinin' when he move. And right now? He movin' fast.

Trey don't know what the argument about, but it's clear Zay don't give a fuck. He in some dude's face, hands flyin', talkin' big shit like he ain't a buck eighty at best. The other nigga bigger, older, face twisted up like he thinkin' 'bout puttin' hands on him.

Trey ain't got nothin' to do with it. Ain't his problem.

But when the big dude grab Zay's hoodie, Trey already movin'.

"Yo," he says, voice calm but firm. He step in before shit get ugly. "Chill out."

The big dude look up, still grippin' Zay's hoodie. "Ain't got shit to do wit' you, bruh. Move."

Trey don't move. Just give him a look-one that say, I really don't wanna have to beat yo' ass, but I will.

Zay yank his hoodie out the dude's grip, still talkin' reckless. "Yeah, nigga, touch me again, see what happen."

Trey side-eyes him. "Shut the fuck up."

Zay blink. "Who the fuck you talkin' to?"

Trey don't answer, just turn his attention back to the other dude. "Ain't worth it, bruh. Let it go."

The big dude size Trey up, but Trey just stand there, unbothered. He already know how this gon' go-either dude gon' let it go, or he gon' swing. And if he swing? Trey droppin' him.

A moment pass.

Then the dude suck his teeth, throw his hands up, and walk off.

Trey relax, exhaling slow. He turn to leave, but-

"Ayo," Zay say, steppin' up to him. "Who told you to jump in my shit?"

Trey stare at him. "Nigga, you was 'bout to get yo' ass beat."

Zay scoff. "Man, please. I had that."

Trey look him up and down. "You talk too much."

Zay grin, tiltin' his head. "And you don't talk enough. Balance, nigga."

Trey shake his head, turnin' to leave.

Zay follow. "Hold up. You ain't gon' introduce yourself?"

"Nah."

Zay laugh, catchin' up with him. "Damn, you rude as hell."

Trey sighs, pushin' a hand over his face. "Nigga, what do you want?"

Zay smirk. "I'unno. Maybe I like how you look out for a nigga."

Trey stop walkin', side-eyin' him. "Ain't lookin' out for shit. Just don't like seein' dumb shit go down."

Zay step a little closer, eyes flickin' over Trey's face. "Bet. Then I'll just make sure I stay doin' dumb shit, so you keep poppin' up."

Trey shake his head again, but this time, he let himself smirk. Just a little.

Zay catch it. "Ohhh, nigga, you be smilin'?"

Trey's face go blank again. "No."

Zay burst out laughin', and Trey don't know why, but the sound don't annoy him like it should.

He sighs, shovin' his hands in his pockets.

Somethin' tell him this nigga gon' be a problem.