Page 139 of Falling Into Gravity

“No,” Bu shrugged. “I think you smart enough to make your own call. I’m just bringing the opportunity.”

They paused again.

“You know, I ain’t never had a reason to look at you twice,” Bu said, voice calm but clipped. “But I watched. I see how you show up for her, for your hood. You rough, hot-headed, but you got heart.”

Malik looked out at the water, then back at Bu. “I want more for her, more than I got.”

“Then get it,” Bu said. “Nobody gon’ hand it to you. You either step into the room and take what’s yours, or you keep struggling in circles.”

“What about this music thing Noodle was talking about?” When Malik got there, Noodle rocked on her toes, blabbing about the streaming app her and Lunar wanted to do. They wanted to create more wealth like the family had done. Malik could code, so it only made sense to keep everything black as hell.

“Streaming app,” Bu confirmed. “Little Lunar’s label - exclusive shit, Black-owned. She thinks you could build it.”

“I could.”

“Then do it.”

They stood still again - nerves settling.

“I never had no brother,” Malik said, real low.

Bu smirked. “I don’t need one…got two already,” his lips curled a little.

Malik cracked a smile. “Tough crowd, nigga.”

“But I respect real,” Bu added. “And you real. So yeah…this the start of something.”

Malik nodded. “I’mma take that meeting.”

“Good,” Bu said. “And after that? Do right by her.”

Malik looked toward the beach again. “That’s the plan.”

Nothing else. No hug, no dap, no promises on bridging anything. There was just mutual respect ‘cause Bu saw so much of himself in Malik and if he was anything like him - he knew, Malik would take the world by storm. The same way he had turned a little lawn company into a franchise.

The yacht was everything.

Not because it was huge or sleek or decked out in gold trim— though it was. But because it was theirs. Purchased by Bu on a whim, just because his wife loved the water.

It was the first time in a long time Malik had been somewhere that felt like a reward, not survival. Somewhere his hoodie didn’t feel out of place, and his girl fit right up under him without fear of bullets or bullshit.

The sun beamed down without being too loud about it. Wind whipped through edges and braids. Music played low from the yacht’s speakers—slow jams mixed with some Little Lunar records. The kind of playlist that kept you rocking without realizing it.

Malik stood near the edge, watching Aku laugh with Noodle. So carefree, in all her luxurious black girl magic…glowing and shit.

Malik lit the blunt Bu had passed him earlier. He pulled slow, savoring it—not just the weed, but the air…the peace.

“You still quiet,” Bu said, sidling up next to him, fresh in designer swim trunks and a tank that showed off the Jig tatted across his chest.

Malik looked over and smirked. “I’m takin’ it all in.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to take in. This just how life s’posed to be when you got real ones around.”

He was right.

Aku glanced over at them from her seat, eyes soft. She’d been watching him all day too, sneaking glances every time he smiled, like she couldn’t believe it was real. Malik had been keeping a hand on her all afternoon—her waist, her hip, the back of herneck. He didn’t say much, just kissed her temple every once in a while like he had to remind himself this was his life now.

“You think he gon’ jump in?” Noodle asked as Aku sipped on her drink. She side-eyed Aku when she kept getting only juice or water, but maybe her girl was just vibing without doing too much.

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