Ik y'all haven't seen the main characters yet cause idk how I want them to look yet but new character Kyro in the media lol

So, I've been getting a lot of questions about how to pronounce their names. So here it is. Everybody should know how to pronounce Brooklyn. Javier is pronounced  (Hah-Vee-Air) 
Joaquin is pronounced  (WAH-KEEN) Meaning his nickname is pronounced like KEEN.
Their dad, Enrique's name is pronounced  (EN-REE-KAY)

Show love to the chapter. Tell ya friends and whoever come read this bitch now lol make sure y'all comment too. I finally know where I wanna go with this book so the updats will come a lil more.

BROOKLYN

"What you wanna eat?" Quin asks me, driving with one hand while eating candy with the other. He has his seat pushed all the way back too. I don't know how he drives like that. All I know is this nigga better not wreck me by breaking every damn rule there is to driving. The nigga is going beyond the speed limit on top of that.

"Well, first of all, can you slow this bitch down before you end up killing the both of us?" I ask. "Ain't nobody about to kill you. I can drive." he says, looking like I offeneded him. "Quin, I swear I don't feel like looking in the eyes of a police officer. Slow the fuck down!" I snap on him. I hate when people drive crazy as shit with me in the car. He can do that by himself.

"Bruh, you ain't finna keep on talking to me like I'm yo bitch. It ain't going down like that. Sit yo ass over there and shut the fuck up." he demands. "You shut the fuck up. If you wanna speed and half pay attention to the road, do that without me in the car! I ain't suicidal, bitch, I don't wanna die!" I go off. He pulls over then looks at me crazy as hell. He looks mad as fuck as if he wants to shoot me in my face.

"What?" I mumble. This is the first time Quin has ever really put some fear in me. He's giving me one of those cold looks I can imagine a murderer giving their victim or something. "Who you calling a bitch?" he angrily asks as if he can't believe I said that.

"You." I answer. I'm scared as hell but I got entirely too much pride to back down from him. He raises his eyebrow. I unbuckle my seat belt then put my hand on the door handle incase I have to make a run for it. I'm not about to sit here and get beat the fuck up by him so if he starts some crazy shit, I'm out of here.

"I'm a bitch?" he asks. I slowly nod my head yes, trying to hide my fear. He probably can tell I'm scared as hell at this point. "I ain't saying it no more... watch your fuckin' mouth, bruh. I ain't tolerating that bitch word. Watch that bullshit before you be swallowing yo gotdamn teeth." he says, seeming serious.

"Swallowing my teeth? Bitch, I wish you would hit me in my mouth! I ain't afraid of your pussy ass! Fuck outta here, hoe!" I snap on him. I really don't even know why I just did the most. I'm just scared and when I'm scared I talk shit like crazy. I'm literally shaking in fear.

He starts chuckling. "Don't laugh at me, bitch!" I yell, shoving him into the window. He draws back then punches me dead in my jaw. My head hit the window and it feels like a damn rhino ran into the side of my face. I want to talk shit but my face hurts too bad to do it.

"Do anything but put yo fuckin' hands on me. Now sit there and shut the fuck up." he demands, pulling off. Hell naw. Ain't no nigga about to slump me like that. I sit up then start punching him in his head. He's swerving trying to get me off and people of honking their horns but I could care less. "Don't ever hit me in my fucking face again!" I scream at him, trying to choke his ass out.

"Sit your stupid self down, bruh, damn!" he yells, trying to shove me off and focus on the road at the same time. I swing at his face one last time then sit back down. "Don't ever fucking hit me in my jaw again, bitch!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

He pulls the truck over. "You know what... this shit dead. Get out." he demands. "Gladly!" I snap. "Naw, for real. I ain't finna put up with this dumb bullshit with you. Go." he demands. I open his door then snatch my purse off the seat. I don't care if I gotta be homeless anymore. I cannot and will not put up with that shit. I'll find a homeless shelter and stay there until I get on my feet or something.

He pulls off fast, leaving me right here. I wipe my eyes then start walking. People out here are looking at me crazy. Some people were recording the whole thing. "Stop staring at me, damn!" I scream at all of them. "Ain't my fault that nigga popped you in the damn face." some girl waiting for the bus says to me.

I stop dead in my tracks then look over at her. She stands up. "You must wanna get popped again?" she asks. I ball my fist up then walk closer to her. I sigh then shake my head. "Stupid ass bitch." I say, then walk away.  I'm too upset to fight this random bitch and it's a waste of time. I'm not trying to go to jail for killing this bitch today. I just want to choke somebody the fuck out or stomp them to death and she'll be my victim for sure if she continues to bother me.

"Soft bitch. Yeah, walk off." she demands. "Go on somewhere with that big ass pile of period blood in your head! Take that cheap ass red sew in out your fucking head! How you got some nappy ass, ground beef looking ass leave out with a nasty ass, loud red weave in your shit! Fuck outta here!" I snap, pointing at her hair. The people around are dying laughing at her.

"Who leave out nappy? Bitch, get your broke ass on somewhere!" she snaps back. "Bitch, that stanky ass plaid skirt you got on! I know you fucking lying!" I go off, damn near laughing. Her skirt is so back in the days. It looks like something a grandmother would wear in the old days or something and she got the audacity to talk about me.

She starts running her mouth, trying to talk about me but I don't care. I ignore her then walk away. She seriously is a waste of my time and I got way too much ti figure out to be at a bus stop arguing with a female I may never see again a day in my life.

Damn, what do I do now? I don't know where to go or who to call. I'm not going back to that house. I refuse to do it. I always ruin things and I'm just lost with myself right now. I want to cry so bad but it's way too much on my mind for me to do that.

I continue to walk, looking around. There's a strip club I've seen so many times. It looks ghetto as hell. I wonder if they're hiring waitresses or something. I never wanted to become a stripper so I'm not interested in the club for that reason. I need to get my face together before I walk over there to talk to a manager or the owner.

I'm scared as fuck but I'm not turning back. I look both ways then jog across the street. My heart is beating so fast. I've never been anywhere near a strip club and the very first time I'm here is because I'm trying to be a damn waitress.

I slowly walk to the front door. I'm surprised men are here in the afternoon. It's not even dark outside yet and niggas are already in here getting dances. The security guard at the door looks at me. "Can I help you, young lady?" he asks. He's a tall, buff, and black man who reminds me so much of Shaquille O'Neal.

It's like I can't form any words as I stare into his big, black eyes. "You good, little girl? What you doing at a place like this?" he asks, looking me over. "Uh... I don't know." I answer. "You eighteen? Show me yo I.D. if you trying to get in here." he tells me, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm not eighteen yet. I'll be eighteen in a few days. I'm not here to dance. I just want to talk to the... owner? Or the manager or however it goes." I explain. He starts laughing. "What your lil ass doing here, kid? Go home." he demands. I fold my arms across my chest. "I'm not here to play. Sir, I got a lot of shit going on. Just let me talk to whoever it is running this place. Please." I beg him.

He tilts his head. "Where your parents or guardian at? You don't belong nowhere like this or in the hood at all. What you even doing around here?" he asks. "My people in jail and I don't have no guardian." he answers.

"You got your whole life ahead of you. What you wanna be a stripper for?" he asks. "I'm not here for that. I'm here to be a waitress." I answer. He ignores me as he checks some man's identification. He lets the man in then looks at me. "A waitress, huh?" he asks. "Yes." I answer. "You know how many girls I done seen start as waitresses then end as strippers and baby mothers of dope boys or even on drugs? This shit ain't for you. Go home." he demands.

"No... I appreciate your concern but I'm not gonna end up like that. You don't know nothing about me. Just let me do what I gotta do." I say. "Why won't you listen? That's what's wrong with young girls who come through here. Too damn hard headed. A hard head makes a soft ass, though. You'll learn, sweetheart." he tells me.

I roll my eyes at him. I'm not even afraid anymore. Nobody's gonna hand me shit in life so I gotta get it myself. Plus, in a few days I'll literally be considered grown. There's no point in sitting on my ass no matter what I gotta do. "How you so concerned about us young girls and you the guard for the place? You just as bad for being the security guard here." I say.

He starts laughing. "I'm respected around here for a reason and if you become a waitress like you think, you'll see why." he tells me. "Okay... where's the manager?" I ask. He shakes his head at me then says something in code into the walkie-talkie. "Go in and wait at the bar." he tells me. "Thanks." I mumble, walking in.

The music is loud as hell. The place is much nicer than I expected. I look up the stairs at the V.I.P. area. It looks nice but I can't see the whole thing. My eyes widen as I watch half naked dance for the men in here. All of these men for sure look like drug dealers or something. There's security guards posted up some of everywhere. My eyes trail to a girl that's butt naked giving another stripper head on stage infront of men as they throw money on them. They're doing that shit in broad daylight with absolutely no shame.

I clear my throat then walk to the bar. The bartender is really pretty. She's darkskinned and her make up is flawless. Her hair is long as hell and I can tell it isn't weave. She's wearing a black halter tank top that says Club Silk on it. That's the name of the strip club. She has her nipples pierced and it's obvious because she isn't wearing a bra. She also has on shorts that are barely covering her pussy.

"Just turned eighteen and finally glad you can get in a strip club?" she jokingly asks, trying to make conversation. "Naw... I'm here to talk to whoever is running the place and the security guy told me come sit at the bar." I answer.

She nods her head. "Well, welcome to the club." she says, giggling. I smile a little. "Thanks, I guess." I mumble. A man comes and sits next to me. "Let me try the strawberry Margarita." he says to her, sitting money on the counter.  "Is that all, baby?" she asks. "Yes, that'll be all." he answers.

He looks at me. "How are you?" he asks. He gives me the creeps. "I'm fine." I answer. He looks around then pulls a card out of his pocket. "Give me a call if you trying to make some quick money, beautiful." he mumbles. He grabs his drink from her then walks away.

The bartender looks at me then snatches the card out of my hand. "What the fuck are you doing?" I ask. "Stay the fuck away from that man, girl. I'm serious." she demands. "Why?" I ask. She leans closer. "The nigga is a pimp... a heartless ass pimp. He preys on young girls like you because y'all are the weakest. Just stay away. You better listen to me if you don't listen to nobody else." she tells me, ripping the card into little pieces.

I nod my head. I'm gonna stay away. I ain't stupid enough to fall into that trap. "Get you a knife or something... working here, you gonna need that." she says to me. "Who said I'm trying to work here?" I ask. She laughs a little. "I've been in this game so long, baby... since my eighteenth birthday and I'm twenty three now. I can see the hunger in your eyes. I already know." she says.

I don't say anything as I stare at her. She reaches under the counter then hands me a purple knife. "It ain't hard to open that knife up. Keep that on you." she says. "How I know you didn't kill somebody with this shit? Keep your knife." I say, trying to hand it back. She starts laughing. "I ain't no damn murderer and it's brand new, in the plastic and everything." she says.

I put it in my purse. "Thanks." I mumble. "What's your name?" she asks. "Brooklyn." I answer. "Do me a favor and don't tell none of these niggas that come through this club your real name... hell, don't even tell these bitches that work here that shit. Come up with a nickname and roll with it. I'm Lola." she introduces herself. "Nice to meet you." I mumble.

"How old are you?" she asks. "About to turn eighteen in a few days." I answer. She frowns. "Look... I don't know shit about your life and I ain't about to ask you to tell me. I'm not about to tell you what to and what not to do neither cause I ain't your momma. But I will say this... I don't recommend this bullshit. It ain't no easy shit to walk away from. Don't get blinded by the love of money. That's all imma say to you." she says.

"Thank you but I gotta do what I gotta do." I say. She nods her head. "Here, take my number. Hit me up if you need anything. If you wanna know about anything when it comes to this lifestyle, ask me. Don't put your trust in none of these hoes... they all shady." she tells me as she writes her number down on some receipt paper.

I take the paper from her then put it down in my purse. "You hungry or thirsty?" she asks. "No." I lie. She rolls her eyes then grabs a cup. I watch as she puts ice and sprite in the glass. She hands it to me. She grabs a walkie talkie then says something.

A woman dressed just like her walks over here holding a plate of hot wings. "Hey." she greets me, sitting in down infront of me. She walks away. I look at Lola. "I'm not paying for this... I said I'm not hungry." I say. "I'm paying for it. Shut up and eat." she demands. I thank her then say my grace. I'm hungry as hell.

I start eating the wings. Damn, they're good. They taste so home made. They don't take like microwaved wings a lot of resturants serve people. This shit is good as hell.

I finished my food and sat here talking to Lola for two hours straight. It's dark outside now and plenty of people are in here and there's a long line to get in outside. More strippers are all over the place and the DJ got this bitch jumping right now. I never imagined it being like this.

"Overwhelming, huh?" Lola asks me, chuckling. I shrug my shoulders. "Where is whoever runs the place? Damn, I've been sitting here for hours." I say. She shrugs her shoulders. "What can I get you, baby?" she seductively asks some man. All of the women that work here flirt their asses off with these men for their tips. They seriously know how to hustle.

A security guard walks over here. "Wassup  Tyrone?" Lola asks, smiling. He smiles at her. "What's good? You the girl here to fuck with boss man?" he asks. "Yeah, that's her." Lola answers before I can. He nods his head. "Come with me." he demands. I look at Lola. "Just go. Tyrone ain't gonna do shit to you." she tells me. I nod my head then follow him.

"What's yo name?" he asks. I ignore him as we walk. He chuckles. "Smart girl." he says. He probably already knows I've been getting advice from Lola or something. He leads me to some room that's heavily guarded then opens it. Tyrone lets me in then walks away. I'm scared as fuck. There's a man sitting behind a desk getting his dick sucked while making eye contact with me and smoking a blunt all at once.

I clear my throat then look away. The fact that he feels no shame is crazy as hell. He breaks eye contract with me then groans a little. The woman stands up then wipes her mouth. She rolls her eyes then walks out. I awkwardly watch as he fixes his expensive pants.

"What you need to talk to me for?" he asks. He has a very strong Louisiana accent. It reminds me so much of my ex boyfriend Jessie's dad's accent. I think the way men from Louisiana sound is sexy as hell.

He's good looking in a hood nigga way. He looks like he's in his early twenties. He's brownskinned with a lot of tattoos. From what I can see, his teeth are straight and white. I think I saw some type of grill on his bottom row but i don't know. He has shoulder length dreads that are hanging freely. He's dressed nicely too. The nigga looks like money. His facial hair is neatly lined up. His lips are pink with a hint of darkness because he smokes.

"Hello? You gonna talk to me or stare at me?" he asks, not smiling or anything. My eyes trail to his expensive chains. Damn he got it made. "Talk or get the fuck out. Stop wasting my time, love." he calmly says.

"I... um... fuck." I mumble. "Time up. Fuck outta here." he demands, dismissing me. "No... listen, I'm... um... my name is Jade." I lie. That's literally the first thing that came to mind. "Wassup Jade?" he asks, looking me over. "I need a job." I blurt out. He tilts his head a little, staring at me. "Sorry." I mumble, feeling embarrassed as hell.

He's just staring at me in silence like he's silently judging my life. "Are you gonna say anything?" I ask. "I'm just trying to figure out what kind of job your young ass trying to get in this bitch." he tells me, standing up. I look him up and down, examining his expensive clothes and shoes. He looks like a rapper or something.

I watch as he grabs a bottle of Hennessy. He pours himself a glass. He sits on the desks as he drinks his alcohol. "How old you is?" he asks. "I'll be eighteen in a few days." I answer. "Come back when you legal, love." he says.

"No... you don't understand. I need a job so bad." I tell him, trying to keep from crying. "Crying won't change shit so wipe your face off." he demands. I look away from him. "Take your clothes off." he demands. I look at him crazy. "If you think I'm finna be in this bitch sucking your fucking dick or fucking you, you can keep this fuck ass shit." I tell him straight up.

He raises his eyebrow. I look down at my feet. "I apologize." I say. This nigga demands respect without saying a word and if I'm trying to work, I gotta respect him. "Why do I have to take off my clothes? I don't wanna strip... I want to be a waitress or something." I explain. "Take off your clothes." he says again. I'm scared as hell.

I step back then take my shirt off. I slowly pull my pants off then look at him. He's not even looking at me. "What was the point if you aren't even looking at me?" I ask. He walks to a cabinet then pulls out a tank top with the club name and some spandex shorts that are longer than the ones the women downstairs are wearing.

He tosses it to me without looking at me one bit. I quickly put it down. It's revealing but I'm extra covered compared to the other girls. "Since you ain't eighteen yet, you ain't walking around this bitch half naked and you not working the floor no time soon. You'll be helping me out with whatever I need you for." he tells me.

"Doing what?" I ask. "You can start by telling me yo real name." he says. "Brooklyn Jackson." I answer. He nods his head. "Where Jade come from?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders. "Aight, Jade. My name Kyro." he introduces himself. I nod my head.

"Do you give girls jobs this easily everyday?" I ask. "Did you see any ugly, trifling looking bitches downstairs?" he asks. "No." I answer. All of them had nice bodies and beautiful faces. They carried themselves well and all of their shit was together. Some were skinny and some were thick but all of them were bad as fuck.

"That's cause all of em pick of the litter. Don't nobody get on easily around here." he answers. "How I get a job easily?" I ask. I'm not trying to get smart but I want to know. He smirks. "Who told you this coming easy? You have no idea. Don't speak so soon." he says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. "Exactly what it sounded like." he answers. "Where your parents at? I ain't got time for your people to come up in this bitch acting dumb." he tells me. "They locked up." I answer. "For what?" he asks. "My dad in jail for pimping and drug dealing and my mom in jail for attempting to kill my dad." I answer.

He starts laughing. "So, those yo people I seen on the news? Nigga secret life got exposed once the wife shot his ass and the feds came in that bitch?" he asks. I frown. "I didn't know it was on the news but um... yeah, that's them." I awkwardly answer. I'm so embarrassed.

"What you embarrassed about?" he asks. "Cause it's crazy." I answer. "You ain't the first person with a fucked up family and you ain't the last. It's cool. Who you live with?" he asks. "Nobody." I answer. "You homeless?" he asks. "Pretty much... I'm gonna find a homeless shelter tomorrow though. I'll stay there until I save enough working here." I answer.

"Imma get a background check on you. If you got some fuck shit in your life you better come clean now." he tells me. "Nothing's there. I don't care." I tell him. He nods his head then points at a big box of papers. "The shredder right here. Shred all that." he instructs.

I walk over to it then grab some papers. I start shredding them as he watches me closely. "Do you always get your dick sucked with people watching?" I ask. "If you do your job right, you'll be around long enough to find out for yourself." he answers, chuckling.

I laugh a little. "What happened to your face and hand?" he asks. "I got into a fight." I answer, leaving it at that. "You can't be getting in fights and shit. Chill that out." he demands. I nod my head, continuing to shred his papers. "Kyro?" I mumble. "Wassup?" he asks, looking at me. "Thank you so much." I say.

He doesn't say anything as he continues to drink. "Ain't shit coming easy. Remember that, Jade." he says, calling me by the nickname I gave him. I gotta get used to that. I nod my head. I really don't know exactly what he means by that but I guess I'll have to find out.

Tonight has been wild as hell. I've been doing shit for five hours straight and it's three in the morning. Kyro put my ass to work. I've been cleaning this office. Shit, the nigga made me clean his bathroom and clean stuff I didn't even know was supposed to be cleaned.

I'm dog tired right now. I would say I want to go home but I don't have a home to go to. Right now, I'm counting money for him. He isn't paying me any attention. I sigh as I put the rest in the money machine. I take it out then put it in a rubber band. "I just counted one hundred thousand dollars and seventy five cent." I tell him, sighing.

He looks at me then smirks. "So, you ain't a thief." he says. "What?" I ask. "I already knew how much that shit was. I didn't watch you for a reason. I just wanted to see if you would've kept it real with me." he tells me. I nod my head. Fuck, my fingers hurt now.

"That's all for tonight." he tells me. He opens his wallet then hands me five hundred dollars. My eyes widen. I can't believe I just made that much in a few hours. "Thank you... I'll be back tomorrow whenever you want. I'm about to go to a gas station or something to sleep. When you want me back?" I ask him.

He looks up from his phone. "All my workers taken care of. I got you somewhere to stay tonight." he says. "Where?" I ask. "Hotel or condo... up to you, love." he answers, not looking up from his phone. I wonder what he being so generous for. People always have motives. He seems hard as hell to figure out and I can tell he plans shit. I wonder what his intentions are but I really don't care at this point. I made this money quick as fuck and I'll be damned if I walk away from this shit.

I DO NOT UPDATE FOR PEOPLE TO NOT SHOW LOVE

IT'S 1 SOMETHING IN THE MORNING LOL SORRY FOR UPDATING SO LATE