Memphis

The Memphis sun hung heavy in the sky, its relentless heat beating down on the streets as Arell and his crew rolled up to the neighborhood in their rented SUV. The air was thick with the scent of summer - a mix of cut grass, barbecue smoke, and the faint tang of asphalt baking in the sun. As they cruised down the street, Arell took in the sights of the hood - kids splashing in the spray of an open fire hydrant, old heads posted up on stoops nursing cold beers, and music blaring from open car windows.

Cam, riding shotgun, let out a low whistle. "Man, this is where its at."

Arell nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, some things are universal in the hood."

As they pulled to a stop in front of a modest brick house, Arell spotted a familiar figure lounging on the porch. Young Dolph, dressed in a white tank and shorts, gold chains glinting in the sunlight, raised a hand in greeting.

"Ay yo, Dolph!" Arell called out, stepping from the vehicle. The heat hit him like a wall, instantly bringing a sheen of sweat to his forehead.

Young Dolph's face broke into a wide grin, his gold grills catching the light. "Well look who finally made it to the hood!" He descended the porch steps, arms outstretched.

Arell met him halfway, the two embracing in a brotherly hug. "Man, it's good to see you," Arell said, clapping Dolph on the back.

"You too, lil bro," Dolph replied, his voice warm with genuine affection. He looked past Arell to the others emerging from the SUV - Cam, Rashad, and Jamal, all blinking in the bright sunlight. "Y'all come on in, we got the grill fired up out back."

As they made their way through the house, Arell couldn't help but take in the details. Family photos lined the walls, a mix of candid shots and posed portraits. The furniture was well-worn but clearly cared for, speaking of a home that was truly lived in. The savory smells of barbecue wafted through the air, making Arell's stomach growl in anticipation.

The backyard was a hive of activity. Folks were clustered around card tables, engaged in intense games of spades and tonk. Others were shooting dice against the fence, money changing hands with each roll. A massive grill, tended by a man built like a linebacker, was the source of the mouthwatering aromas.

"Y'all make yourselves at home," Dolph said, gesturing to the spread. "Drinks in the cooler, food'll be ready soon."

He steered Arell towards a quieter corner of the yard where Key Glock and a few others were posted up. Introductions were made, and soon Arell found himself caught up in the easy flow of conversation.

An older lady, her gray hair styled in an immaculate updo, approached the group. "Adolph, ain't you gonna introduce me to your friend here?"

Dolph chuckled. "My bad, Miss Earlene. This here's Arell, he's an artist I met a couple months back. Arell, this is Miss Earlene, she's like the neighborhood grandma."

Arell stood, offering his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Earlene."

Miss Earlene bypassed his hand entirely, pulling him into a warm hug. "Ain't no handshakes here, baby. We family." She pulled back, eyeing him critically. "You eating enough? You look too skinny."

Arell couldn't help but laugh. "Yes ma'am, I promise I'm eating just fine."

Miss Earlene nodded approvingly. "Well, make sure you get a good plate today. Can't have you leaving here hungry."

As she wandered off to fuss over someone else, Dolph turned to Arell. "So tell me 'bout this mixtape you working on," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I been hearing big things."

Arell couldn't help the pride that crept into his voice. "Man, it's coming together, almost finished to be honest. And I got two tracks on the Billboard now, so the name's really poppin'."

"I seen that!" Key Glock chimed in. "That Flex joint with Rich Homie? Fire."

"Appreciate that," Arell nodded. "We aiming to drop like- a month or two from now."

Dolph nodded approvingly. "That's what I like to hear. You know, I'm working on my debut album too. Thinking of calling it 'King of Memphis'."

Arell's eyes lit up with interest. "For real? That's a strong title, man. When you looking to drop?"

"Aiming for later this year," Dolph replied. "But I'm still working on getting everything just right. You know how it is - want to make sure every track hits."

"I feel that," Arell agreed. "If you want another set of ears on anything, I'd be happy to listen. Sometimes a fresh perspective can help."

Dolph's face broke into a wide grin. "I might just take you up on that. Always good to get input from someone who knows their shit."

As the afternoon wore on, the mood remained light and celebratory. Arell found himself drawn into a heated game of spades, trash talk flying as fast as the cards.

"Ay yo, Arell!" an older man called out from across the table. "I heard you got some skills. Let's see if you can back up that talk!"

Arell grinned, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. "Oh, you ain't ready for this, OG. I learned from the best."

The game was intense, each hand played with a mix of strategy and bravado. Arell's partner, a local barber named Tony, proved to be a formidable ally. They communicated with subtle nods and gestures, reading each other's plays with uncanny accuracy.

As Arell laid down the winning hand, a cheer went up from the spectators. The older man shook his head, a rueful smile on his face. "Alright, young blood. You got skills, I'll give you that."

Arell was deeply focused on shuffling for the next hand when a commotion near the front of the house caught everyone's attention.

"Five-oh!" someone called out.

The energy in the yard shifted instantly. Blunts were quickly extinguished, dice and money pocketed. Dolph rose smoothly, making his way towards the front, Arell close behind.

Two officers stood at the gate, their expressions neutral but watchful.

"Afternoon, officers," Dolph said easily. "What can we do for you?"

"We've had some noise complaints," one cop said, his eyes scanning the gathering. "Just wanted to ask you folks to keep it down."

"No problem," Dolph replied. "We'll turn the music down. Appreciate you letting us know."

The exchange was tense but civil. As the cops departed, Dolph turned to Arell with a wry smile. "Welcome to the hood, my man. Never know when Johnny Law gonna show up."

As they made their way back to the yard, Arell's eye was caught by a massive dog lounging in the shade - a Cane Corso.. The dog's coat was a deep, glossy black, its eyes alert and intelligent as they tracked the movement in the yard.

"Damn," Arell breathed, slowing his pace to get a better look. "That's a serious dog."

Dolph chuckled, pride evident in his voice. "Yeah, that's Zeus. Best protection you can ask for."

Arell approached cautiously, holding out a hand for the dog to sniff. Zeus regarded him for a moment before giving his fingers a cursory lick.

"His coat is amazing," Arell said, gently scratching behind the dog's ears. "How old is he?"

"Just turned three," Dolph replied. "Had him since he was a pup. Trained him myself."

Arell nodded, impressed. "I been thinking about getting a dog," he mused, his mind tracing back to Lucky. "Something like this would be dope."

"I know a breeder," Dolph offered. "Does Corsos, pits, real quality bloodlines. But they ain't cheap - we talking 15k for a pup."

Arell's eyebrows shot up. "15k for a dog?"

"You get what you pay for," Dolph shrugged. "These ain't just any dogs. We're talking champion bloodlines, health guarantees, the works. Plus, the breeder does custom training. By the time you get your pup, it'll already know basic commands, be socialized, all that good stuff."

Arell considered this, his hand still absently stroking Zeus's massive head. "I guess when you put it like that, it makes sense."

Dolph nodded sagely. "Zeus here, he's more than just a pet. He's family, protection, peace of mind all rolled into one."

"You said the breeder does Pits too?" Arell asked, after Lucky died he had always wanted another dog, but another pitbull? No. A Cane Corso was the better play.

"Yeah, some of the best I've seen," Dolph confirmed. "Real stocky builds, good temperaments. If you're serious about it, I can put you in touch. Maybe we can even go check out some pups when they're available."

Arell grinned. "I might just take you up on that."

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the yard, the energy of the gathering shifted. Music was turned up, more drinks were poured, and someone produced a basketball.

"Arell!" Cam called out from near the hoop set up at the side of the yard. "You want in on this game?"

Arell grinned, already stepping towards the makeshift court. "You know I'm always ready to ball."

A quick game of shirts vs skins was organized, with Arell ending up on the skins team alongside Cam and a local introduced as "Lil Mike." The shirts team consisted of Rashad, Jamal, and one of Dolph's cousins, a tall, lanky guy named DeAndre.

The game was fast-paced and physical, with plenty of good-natured trash talk flying back and forth. Arell quickly found his rhythm, his shooting and dribbling skills on display as he weaved between defenders and sank shots with ease.

"Damn, Arell!" Lil Mike exclaimed after Arell executed a particularly smooth crossover. "You sure you in the right career? Maybe you should be in the NBA!"

Arell laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Nah, man. Music's my first love. But I always keep my game sharp, you feel me?"

As the game heated up, a small crowd gathered to watch. Arell could hear the murmurs of appreciation, could feel the eyes on him, but he stayed focused on the game.

The game came down to the wire, with both teams tied at 20 points in a game to 21. Arell had the ball, facing off against Rashad at the top of the key. The tension was palpable as Arell dribbled, looking for an opening.

Suddenly, he saw his chance. With a quick head fake, he drove left, then crossed over to his right, leaving Rashad momentarily flat-footed. As DeAndre came up to help on defense, Arell leapt, hanging in the air before releasing a perfect fade-away jumper.

The ball arced through the air, everyone's eyes following its trajectory. For a heart-stopping moment, it seemed like it might rim out - but then it dropped cleanly through the net, nothing but net.

A roar went up from the spectators as Arell's teammates mobbed him, slapping his back and ruffling his hair. Even the opposing team couldn't help but give props, Rashad shaking his head in admiration as he came up to give Arell a brotherly hug.

As the excitement died down, Dolph approached, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he said, handing Arell a cold bottle of water, "I been getting into real estate lately. Trying to diversify, you feel me?"

Arell, still catching his breath from the game, nodded appreciatively. "That's smart. Gotta think long-term in this game."

"Exactly," Dolph agreed. "I'm looking at a couple properties right now, thinking about flipping them. But it's a whole new world, you know? Lots to learn."

Arell's eyes lit up. "Yo, that's crazy - I was just talking to my manager Geoff about the same thing. He's coming down soon, y'all should link up. He's got mad knowledge about investments and shit."

Dolph nodded, clearly intrigued. "For real? I might have to take you up on that. Always looking to learn new ways to stack this paper."

As the evening wore on, the party showed no signs of slowing down. More people arrived, drawn by the music and the promise of good company. Arell found himself in conversation with a diverse array of people - from aspiring young rappers eager for advice, to old heads sharing stories of the neighborhood's history.

At one point, a young woman approached Arell, her body language clearly flirtatious. "Hey handsome," she purred. "You want to get out of here, go somewhere a little more... private?"

Arell smiled politely but firmly. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm taken. My girl's waiting for me back home."

The woman looked disappointed but nodded respectfully. "She's a lucky lady. You two must have something special."

Arell's smile softened. "Yeah, we do."

<>

Patre_0n // I AM SINCERE