That Freestyle

Dante’s dream was weird.

It felt so real, but…

The romantic theme was stuck in his head. It played on repeat as he rest in his bed, his room slowly being drowned in color. The lovely reds and cute pinks. He stood up to see his bedroom flowing with those colors, moving with rhythm back in forth as the theme swelled with the beautiful synths and saxophones. The room slowly disappeared onto the wave, having his whole being consumed. Imani appeared as he swam through the color, placing his hands on his face. She gave a warm smile that any man could love. He closed his eyes, moving to kiss her…

And then he woke up.

His eyes went back to the ceiling. The once colorful room in his dream returned to the bland tan and brown he was so used to. He rubbed his face as he stood up, adjusting his eyes to the late morning sun. He reached over to check his phone. He scrolled through his Instagram, seeing the Yungblood group chat with a few notifications. He opened it to see Flu, Hendrixx, and Yin talking about them heading over to Washington Park, which is where all the local ball players and rappers hang out in the summer. If anyone was down to see the homegrown hoopers and poets they’d run over to Washington. Dante texted that he’d be down as well, but he needed to get his hair twisted from his moms first. They scheduled accordingly for the late afternoon.

As he got up and got ready for the day, he decided to text his crush, sending her a meme to start her afternoon. Five minutes later, he got a text from her sending a few laughing emojis. It was getting bad, he even smiled when he saw her name. This was something he never felt before, and he was slowly getting addicted to the feeling of texting her.

I: how’d you sleep?

D: pretty good hbu

I: alright, I couldn’t complain.

D: what u got planned for today?

I: I gotta go with my mom all day its gonna suck

D: damn yo im sorry

I: Hbu?

D: Imma head over to the park with my homies

I:ooh, fun

Dante sent a random meme before hearing his name called. It was his mom. “Dante! You better be up, boy!”

“I am, Mom!”

“Come here, time to get your hair retwisted.”

Dante went downstairs to let his mother fix his hair. At this point, before he went to bed, he made sure to remove the older twists from his hair, letting his wild hair go free. The hair session was the closest thing they could get to a bonding experience, but Dante enjoyed it. He got used to the roughness moms displayed when she got to work on his hair, being a tenderheaded kid. He groaned and complained quietly as she did her job. Since she was a professional almost, she did it with little to no mistakes.

While she worked on his hair, she hummed and started a conversation. “How’s the rapping going?”

Dante was slightly surprised she asked that first. “Well, we have an album coming out soon.”

“Hmm. I remember back in the day you had to talk to a label to do things like that.”

“Yeah, it’s real cool, the independent scene is crazy.”

“Well,” Mom started, “If you’re serious about this, just make sure you don’t fall into any trap. Read every contract, all that.”

“I know, Mom.”

“I know Miro would be proud of you, Dante.”

Dante stayed silent, the slight pain in his stomach made him refuse to speak. His mother understood the silence, as it still being a sore subject. There was no time for tears, so Dante sucked it up and responded. “Y-Yeah.”

Eventually, she finished. Dante got up and swung his hair around playfully. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime. Now clean that room before you go anywhere.”

He nodded, following his mother’s command, then stepped out onto the streets, running over to Washington Park.

Will Smith’s Summertime could be heard over the speakers from a nearby cookout that a family decided to host. It was late afternoon, the sun began the descent that left the blue sky a warm hue. Miro walked past the smell of the brisket, brats, chicken, and ribs on the grill. Drowned in the BBQ sauce that left the park smelling delicious. The entire family pulled up, with the little kids playing on the playground, and the adults playing dominos and cards, a complete vibe.

The rest of the people there were over at the basketball court. The dudes with hoop dreams and TikTok accounts made to show off their dribble abilities were all out to play ball. Some old heads sat on the sidelines and chatted about ball. They yelled and argued about the game being soft and for the show, saying if their knees didn’t suck they would personally save the game. The kids didn’t care much, they were too busy dunking and trash-talking on the painted blacktop. Most important to Miro, was the artist corner. They would sit on a bench and just freestyle. Usually, future talents would come over to Washington Park, for example, Rico Bandz who was signed last year.

The Yungblood crew was there, bobbing their head, as Flu was spitting away, as the group used Polo G’s Go Stupid beat.

Body litta
Young block spinna'
Lil' visionary with his finger on the trigga'
Head splitta'
Knocking on your door like the grim reaper
catching all these bodies like a goddamn fever

we set em up, tell em let's kick it, we gon' wet em up.
Played too much now his brothers gotta go pick em up
Sucks to suck
Boy on a shirt that’s kinda tuff.

We hopped in.
Yungblood be bullies like Hoppkins.
King of the city
My flow is so litty
I count up my fifties like it’s my shit.

The crowd goes crazy, shaking up Flu as he smirks widely, He dapped up Miro. “Yo money, spit something.”

Miro shrugged. “Uh, sure.”

The beat continued, as Miro started to rap his own way.

Yung Miro a hitta
Yung Miro a killla
Yung Miro gon pop out and get ya.
Yo body is cold we forget ya
This far from a war we gon split ya.

Yo family is grieving
We gon miss ya.
Especially yo girl
gotta kiss her

This ain’t no threat
Boy that’s a promise and don’t forget
Yungblood a crew move in sets
Don’t be spamming me with hella texts

You crying and screaming
Yo heart is still beating
But you know you are next.

The crew did their thing, shaking Miro’s hand as they moved on to the next person. Miro noticed that somebody was recording them. Odd.

With a sudden boost of confidence, Dante pulled out his phone and texted Imani.

D: soo…you wanna go out? Like on a date?

A few minutes later, she responded.

I: Sure :)