Page 138 of Falling Into Gravity

He didn’t announce himself, didn’t puff his chest or square up or throw no extra tension in the air.

Bu moved different, with confidence…quiet but sure.

The kind of presence that didn’t need no loud-ass chain swinging or a crowd of followers to feel powerful. His energy was steady, unbothered, and rooted in shit most men hadn’t evensurvivedto talk about. The kind of man who’d been forged in fire, but learned to walk cool through it.

He was always calculated, always observing. He knew his words held weight with the people that mattered, so he never wasted them on nobody that didn’t. When Bu spoke, youlistened. Not out of fear, but because you knew he wasn’t gonna say it twice.

He carried the Jig on his back, but still knew how to sit in peace, when the moment called for it. He knew how to let young men be men, or how to check ‘em without raising his voice.

As much as he didn’t show it, Malik respected that.

Even if they weren’t seeing eye to eye yet…even if they wore different flags and had scars from different wars.

Bu gave him a look. It wasn’t aggressive, or friendly, just level.

Malik straightened up a little. Not out of intimidation, but acknowledgment. ‘Cause Bu was the kind of man Malik could’ve used in his life earlier. He had that big brother stillness, that ‘I’ll ride or correct you, depending on what you need’ type energy.

They stood like that for a beat - just them. Ocean in the background. Women praying in the distance. Tension swirling low, but not boiling.

A standoff without violence.

A test of character, not strength.

Malik didn’t say shit at first. Just stood up straight, arms crossed, watching.

Bu nodded, red cap backwards. “What’s up.”

“Chillin’,” Malik replied, voice flat, trying to feel out the moment.

They didn’t smile, didn’t dap…just stood there, letting the air fill the space between them.

“I know y’all locked in,” Bu started, “you and Aku. So, outta respect for my wife, I showed up.”

Malik’s jaw moved slightly. “I appreciate that.”

“I ain’t gon fake like I’m excited about this little union or whatever,” Bu said. “But I ain’t here to hate. I’m here to talk.”

“I can listen,” Malik replied.

Bu pulled out his phone and passed it over. “This him - Jay, Black billionaire - real nigga. Weed money, tech money…now he investing in shit that matters.” Bu got straight to the point.

Malik studied the screen, then handed the phone back. “He from Georgia?”

“Alabama.”

Malik nodded once. “What he want with my app?”

“To help it grow, stay black-owned…keep the culture in it without selling your soul.” Bu had already chopped it up with Jay about Malik, including everything Aku told him about the app. Sent the shit over to him while they talked about everything in between.

“I just walked out a room full of white boys offering money and control,” Malik muttered. “They smiled in my face and told me I should be grateful they even saw value in what I built.”

“They always do that,” Bu grunted. “Offer help with one hand and strip you down with the other.”

“I ain’t tryna flip my shit into some watered-down bullshit.”

“Then don’t,” Bu said. Point blank…no bullshitting. “Jay ain’t like them. He know how this goes. I told him about Plugged In, told him it’s already makin’ moves. He wanna talk.”

Malik took a breath, rubbing his jaw. “You think I’m just supposed to trust that?”

---