Page 12 of Standing In The Sun

“That phone is probably worth something,” Butta whispered, as if speaking it too loud would make it disappear.

Ahvi exhaled, stomach twisting. Money was already tight…too tight. She was about to be evicted, Kamari needed a stable place to stay, and she had nothing lined up. If this phone had any real value to Nar, maybe he’d be willing to pay for it.

Butta must’ve read her mind because she nudged her shoulder. “You better hit that boy up.”

“You think he’d even see my message?”

“It’s worth a shot, Ahvi.”

After a moment of hesitation, she pulled out her own phone, went straight to Instagram, and searched forLLNar. His verified profile popped up immediately.

She clickedMessage.

Ahvi:Hey, I don’t know if you’ll see this, but I found something I think might belong to you. Let me know if you wanna talk.

She stared at the message for a long second before hitting send, her heart thudding in her chest, hoping God was finally giving her some relief.

three

Lunar watchedhis little brother flop down on the couch, his curious eyes following Monday as he settled in like he owned the place. Monday scanned the room, his head tilting slightly as he took in the familiar space. No matter how many years passed or how many houses they lived in, Jade City would always feel like home for him.

Monday had been born there-- raised between this house and his granny’s home in LA. But the east coast was in his bones.

Lunar stretched his legs out, a blunt dangling between his fingers as he let his head rest against the back of the couch. He already knew Monday had something slick to say. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t.

“How you grown and still getting put on punishment?” Monday finally asked, his tone light but laced with amusement.

Lunar scoffed, rolling his eyes as he lifted the blunt to his lips. “Nigga, I ain’t on punishment.”

Monday smirked. “Hmmm.” He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back like he was getting real comfortable. Monday was taller than Lunar and rightfully so, as his daddy was tall as hell. “Looks just like what they do to me when I ain’t listening.” He threw up air quotes. “But hey, what do I know, I ain’t grown.” He shrugged, biting back a grin.

“Not shit.” Lunar exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching it curl toward the ceiling. “What you doing out here anyway?” His voice was lazy, but his eyes were sharp, cutting to his little brother as he propped one leg over the arm of the couch.

“I can’t come see my big brother?”

Lunar smirked, “Anytime… you know that, lil’ nigga.”

Monday nodded, his gaze drifting around the house again. Even after all these years, it still looked like something out of a damn magazine. Their mama had an eye for interior decorating, and it showed in every inch of the space. The rich wood floors gleamed under the soft lighting, the furniture was sleek but comfortable, and the walls were adorned with carefully chosen art pieces - shit most people probably didn’t even recognize the value of.

“Ma still got it,” Monday muttered, taking it all in.

Lunar chuckled, flicking ash into a nearby tray. “She’d slap you upside the head if she heard you say that like she ever lost it.”

Monday grinned, shaking his head. “True.”

Silence settled between them again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. It was just peaceful. Lunar leaned back deeper into the couch, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as his mind threatened to wander where he didn’t want it to go.

Monday watched him, reading him the way only a little brother could. He wasn’t about to press—not yet, at least.

Instead, he mentioned something he knew his brother loved more than breathing. “You been in the studio?”

“I been down there but ain’t really recorded nothing.” Lunar chewed on his lip before toking the blunt again.

When he showed real interest in rapping, his parents got a studio built into their home for his fourteenth birthday. You couldn’t tell him he didn’t have the best parents in the world when they presented it to him. It was all top quality giving him the opportunity to lock in and learn the boards and sounds. His best friend, Pimp learned how to make beats and stuff and it was up from there.

That’s another reason creating had been so hard over the last week he’d been there. His best friend was still on the west coast in Madison Heights helping Noodle wrap up the deluxe version of her first multi-platinum album.

“Let’s go down there,” Monday suggested, pulling his phone from his pocket. “You in here all depressed and shit.”

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