Impressions stepped outside, wind blowing in his face. He usually didn’t like to step outside in this kind of weather, but today wasn’t any day. His father, The_Kid ( yes kids can have kids ), and his city had been taken down. He had some funerals to attend. He quickly made his way to the cemetery and dropped a rose on every tomb. Then he took out a piece of folded paper from his pocket and started to read.

”Dear ex Blue Note members. If this is being read, it’s probably because I’m dead, and your fathers as well. I’m hoping that you, son of these amazing mobsters, will hear this message thought. I would like to start by thanking every single one of you. When starting this life of crime, I had no expectations. I didn’t even want to be the head of a family. But I ended up running an amazing life, and even becoming The Godfather of Detroit, all thanks to you. Never could I have done it without the help and support you all gave me. I spoke with every one of you, and I can safely say that you are all amazing, kind hearted and lovely people, you guys made my day. Even if something wasn’t going well, I knew I could count of my fellow friends to cheer me up and get me back in a good mood. Thank you to everyone who wore the Blue Note Label tag.

Love ya! 

~Kid”

Inspiring words, beautiful ♡♡♡♡♡

In her apartment Santina took a deep breath as she set down the newspaper. The blood bath of Detroit was smeared across the front page. It was no surprise that the media vultures got a hold of the story as quickly as they did, but they never had the story right. Not really. if you wanted the story, the real story, all you had to do was put your ear to the ground of the streets. Listen to the thunder. 

Santina sat in her robe at the scuffed table, sipping the black sludge barely passable for café. She brought a steady hand to her lips, but took a shaky drag on her cigarette. Her eyes moved from the moisture-stained walls to the foggy window. Knowing the story that lies between the lines of the botched front page means knowing how easily it could all come crashing down. Comrades or not, seeing a fall like this made one thing all too real: You could be next. "Vaya con Dios," she whispered to the empty room.