Neighborhood.

[Caesar]

Paige's pussy got some power, huh? Angela ready to risk it all.

Stefan gonna get Tommy killed.

I see the vision now.. Bronstein is using Esther to entice Keshawn into signing a 360 deal of death.

you just described sex trafficking, brother

I put nothing past the Yakubian menace.

Quincy being pulled out of retirement to go spin on Rommel? Yeah Vic definitely getting got

[Chillcavern]

Advancing your plots here, important shit's gonna go down in pretty much every plotline soon here.

Gonna get explosive

[Soapy]

I put nothing past the Yakubian menace.

Quincy being pulled out of retirement to go spin on Rommel? Yeah Vic definitely getting got

family ties. Vic got enough problem on his own

Advancing your plots here, important shit's gonna go down in pretty much every plotline soon here.

Gonna get explosive

that's what we do over here at Soap Inc.

[Soapy]

Call Me If You Get Lost - Episode 11
Alexis kept fidgeting with the hem of her dress, a tight-fitting navy body suit that left little to the imagination. She’d occasionally glance towards the kitchen which she could see from the balcony through the floor-to-ceiling window. In there, Keshawn was holding court or rather being courted. It had been a while since their last encounter and even longer since their last intimate one but there was a noticeable difference about him or perhaps more appropriately, how people reacted to him.

She’d look his way, holding her glare, waiting for him to look back but he never did. He continued to drink from his bottle of sparkling water, undoubtedly fielding questions about the upcoming NBA Draft. He had barely acknowledged her presence when he walked in, giving her a courteous head nod before retreating to the kitchen to grab a drink where he was quickly surrounded and had been stuck since. Surely that was the reason he hadn’t come over, Alexis tried to convince herself, hanging on to the last vestiges of whatever their relationship was and would be.

…

"I don’t know,” Keshawn shrugged, "Just not Utah, I guess."

"My boy would be swimming in that snow," Stefan cackled, drawing a side eye from Andrea, "I’m talking about skiing, babe."

"Yeah, okay,” she rolled her eyes while Gloria took a sip of her drink in an effort to ease the awkwardness, "Do the Clippers or Lakers have a chance?"

"You never know with trades," Keshawn answered, "I won’t really know until we get to the workouts and even after that, teams can always lie to you, tell you they are going to pick you.”

"That shit would be a fucking movie," Stefan shook his head, "You and Kawhi or you and Bron? Man, hell nah, I’d end up in county jail from how turnt up I would be on draft night man!”

The party had started to settle in with Tommy and Stefan no longer feeling the need to serve as hosts. Tommy was in the balcony with Alexis, a few of her friends and quite frankly, the rest of the white boys on the team. The rest of the team was sprinkled out throughout the beach house with Keshawn, Stefan, Gloria and Andrea hanging out by the porch, welcoming the late arriving guests as they walked in.

"Are you doing anything for the draft or…?" Gloria finally spoke up.

"My mom will probably host a barbecue or something,” Keshawn replied.

As interesting as the draft was to everyone else, it had evolved into work for Keshawn. His days ran long between balancing the early morning workouts, his ongoing school work at the insistence of his parents and then watching film or conducting mock interviews with Coach Bronstein. While the season had ended for his other teammates, his hadn’t and had only grown in intensity.

"Nigga, you going to fucking New York," Stefan scoffed, "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

"Those invites are supposed to go out soon,” Keshawn nodded, "I haven’t gotten anything yet, we’ll see.”

"That’s why you need to get with Bron and his people!” Stefan insisted, "I’m telling you, man, them niggas run the league."

"I got another meeting with them next week,” Keshawn could feel Gloria and Andrea’s interest waning from the conversation as both of their heads were buried in their phone, "Enough about me, man. We’re boring the girls with this shit.”

"It’s not you, Ke,” Gloria sighed, "It’s Jess.”

"What’s wrong with her this time?” Stefan raised an eyebrow.

"You know how she gets,” Andrea answered, "We should probably check up on her, Vic’s working tonight so she’s by herself."

It was Keshawn’s turn to take a sip of his drink, having seen Vic’s true whereabouts on Angela’s Instagram earlier in the day.

…

"Are they still hiring?” Vic asked sarcastically as he carried the last of the boxes into the bedroom, placing it on the desk.

"I’ll be sure to slide your resume under the door," Angela smiled as she continued to unpack her luggage, her clothes sprawled out onto the bed, "Although, I still don’t really know what is it that they even do and I start in two days.”

"You’ll body that shit,” Vic took a seat on the bed, inspecting the rest of the room.

When he had learned that Angela would be coming back to Los Angeles for the summer, it had been a punch in the gut. It was one thing to carry on two lives while thousands of miles apart but her new internship and their provided housing placed her just a few blocks from Jessica’s dorm. Jessica was showing now and it was only a matter of time — a few months actually — until he’d need to disclose her pregnancy to Angela. A foolish and naive part of him wished that their relationship would just naturally dissolve over time, that distance would prove to be too much of a hinderance and that they’d decide to part ways amicably. They’d remain friends, Angela wouldn’t hate him and hope that she never did the math when years later, she would find out about his new relationship and his baby.

"I don’t know about that,” Angela replied, "My homegirl Paige pretty much got me the job, I didn’t really earn it or anything.”

The mere mention of Paige’s name brought Angela back to her reality, not the fake one they’d be living for the past few hours. Vic had picked her from the airport and they went and got donuts from Kindle’s on Normandie and Century. They went to her mother’s house, even more dilapidated than Angela remembered, blood stains still on the carpet. She didn’t need to go as she had taken all of her belongings to Howard and Vic had already packed up most of her mother’s things prior to the funeral but she had to. She walked the hallways that she grew up in, the bedroom where her father would tuck her in at night, the kitchen where she’d have breakfast in the morning, reading the back of the cereal box. As she stood in her mother’s bedroom, she mourned not just her but her father, her childhood, who she was and who they’d never be, that happy family that used to get donuts on Kindle’s on Saturday mornings. Through it all, Vic was by her side. He didn’t say much, he didn’t need to. His presence was enough.

"Bullshit,” Vic’s laughter snapped Angela out of her funk, "If I know you, and I do, you killed that interview, you way better than all of those other candidates and you’re going to kill that internship. You can’t fool me, Ang, you might be able to fool them other nig—people in Howard but I know you, babe. You’re one of one, baby girl."

"I can’t lie, I do miss you hyping me up," Angela smiled, fighting back tears.

"And I miss hyping you up,” he extended his arms out to bring her in for an embrace, "What we on tonight, Chinese or tacos?"

"I thought you had to work after this?”

"Nah,” he shook his head, "I’m good right here. They can wait.”

…

"I just feel like they’re going to add so much stress to this shit," Jessica groaned, "I’m fucking breaking out, I feel like shit, I look like shit and now I’m going to have my moms on my ass about everything?”

"Girl, you look perfect,” Andrea assured her, "Listen, you can always stay with us, you know that, but your parents are going to get over it. You know how our people are. They’re going to fucking love that baby.”

"Yeah, when the baby gets here,” Jessica sighed, "I just can sense that Vic is already being distant and shit and now that I’m going to be at my parents, who he still hasn’t fucking met, it’s just going to make that shit ten times worse."

"Vic seems like a nice guy," Gloria chimed in, "I think he’s just adjusting, you all are."

"You’re right, I’m probably overreacting," Jessica tried to convince herself, "You guys are the best, I don’t know where I’d be without y’all."

"Bitch, you know we riding with you till the wheels fall off this motherfucker," Andrea tried to lighten the mood, "You got a good one in Vic, trust us. Whatever his situation was with old girl, that’ll sort itself out and once it does, that man is going to love you and love y’all baby."

"You got me about to cry and shit,” Jessica fanned herself as she forced a laugh, "What about you guys, how was the party tonight?”

"I’m just waiting on someone to call my phone telling me that Stef is drunk as hell,” Andrea scoffed, "He’s with Keshawn so hopefully he doesn’t go too crazy but I don’t know, you know Stef.”

"That we do,” Jessica laughed.

"See? You don’t have to worry about that with Vic. He’s going to take care of his business, go to work, go to school, ain’t no bullshit with him, no 2 AM calls. I love him, I really do, I just wish he was more focused and like took things a bit more serious like Vic or Keshawn."

"It’s not entirely all that its cracked out to be,” Gloria muttered, "Don’t get me wrong, I’m super happy for Keshawn and all that but it’s like I’m always fighting for crumbs with him, you know? He’s always working out, he’s always studying and even when he’s with me, hanging out, it’s like transient, you know?”

"He cares about you, babe, he’s just quiet,” Jessica rubbed Gloria’s knee as all three sat on her bed like middle-schoolers at a sleepover.

"At some point, he has to commit to me, right? Like we’ve been at this for almost a year now and it’s just…hanging out,” Gloria sighed, "Like does he want more? Does he just not want it with me? He’s about to be God knows where in a couple of months and I’ll just be that bitch he fucked with back in college. If I’m even the only one.”

"Keshawn’s not like that,” Andrea corrected her, "Trust me, Stefan practically has to drag him out of their house. Like you said, he’s just super busy right now with the draft and stuff but once that’s over, he’ll lock it up.”

“And if he doesn’t, you can always trap him with a baby,” Jessica said with a straight face before all three busted into laughter.

…

"I said pour me whatever!” Stefan exclaimed, grabbing another liquor bottle from the cabinet, "I can drink this, right, Tommy?”

"Open bar,” Tommy replied, leaning back into the couch, "I already swapped out the good shit, I learned from last time."

"My nigga!” Stefan yelled, pouring himself another shot.

The party had wound down, leaving only a handful of guests, including Alexis, whose efforts to catch Keshawn’s eye had so far failed—even after Gloria left with Andrea. Though her friends had already disappeared with their chosen flings, Alexis lingered, practically draped over Tommy, her leg casually resting on his, revealing even more skin than her barely-there dress already allowed.

Keshawn was still there, partly due to a lack of inertia and also to make sure Stefan didn’t end the night passed out on the beach or even worse, make the hour long drive while intoxicated back to Long Beach where he spent most of his weekends these days hanging out with the 'homies'. He had noticed Alexis’ lingering glares, her overtly flirtatious ways with Tommy but had ignored them, thinking better of it. He had the draft to focus on, a decision to make regarding who his representation would be, Angela returning to Los Angeles to further complicate his relationship with Vic and then there was Gloria and Nadia. If he was going to allow himself a rare, carefree night out, the last thing he needed was to further tangle himself into the web that was whatever he and Alexis had.

"Get in on this, cuz,” Stefan motioned Keshawn over, who was on the other end of the kitchen island, sitting atop a stool, nursing a Ginger Ale, his poison for the night.

"That’s all you,” Keshawn shook his head, forcing a smile as the late hour was beginning to weigh on him.

"Man, stop being a bitch ass nigga in front of the hoes, nigga!”

"Where you see the hoes at?” Alexis spoke up for what felt like the first time all night, mostly keeping to herself, "He must be talking about one of y’all.”

Two of the remaining girls that were at the party rolled their eyes, refocusing their attention to their phone. Alexis had the aesthetic of a 'valley girl' and her attitude and tone was proving their preconceived notions right.

"Pardon me, shorty,” Stefan eyed Alexis, the reposado slurring his words, "In front of these fine, exquisite bitches.”

"Get your man,” Alexis chuckled, her tone more playful as she leaned into Tommy, "He must think I’m one of these ratchet girls.”

"Bitch, watch your fucking mouth!” one of the girls, who Keshawn had seen around the team before but couldn’t quite place, looked up from her phone.

"A hit dog gonna holler,” Alexis snickered.

"See what you caused, cuz?” Stefan laughed, pouring himself another shot as he started grabbing empty red cups, "Let’s pour up, drink up and have a good time, man. You got these b—girls ready to squabble!”

"I’m good, bro,” Keshawn forced a chuckle, "That’s all you.”

“Hell nah, it ain’t good!” Stefan poured into the cups, handing them out to those around the table before making his way to Keshawn.

"I got a workout tomorrow,” Keshawn shook his head, "I ain’t trying to be throwing up and shit."

"Nigga, take the fucking shot!” Stefan tried to force the cup into Keshawn’s hand but he stepped back, causing the cup to spill onto Stefan’s hand, "Fuck!”

"Chill out, Stef,” Tommy quipped, "If he doesn’t want a shot, he doesn’t want a shot.”

“Nah, fuck that—what’s-his-name acting like a bitch!” Stefan barked, snatching the liquor bottle and splashing more into the red cup before shoving it back into Keshawn’s chest. “You got a workout tomorrow? Big fucking deal. You too good to drink with me now? Nigga, we used to be drunk as hell at them games!”

Keshawn kept his voice low, trying to steady the situation. “You doing a lot right now.”

But Stefan wasn’t hearing it. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Keshawn’s, jaw tight, body rigid. The room went still. The music faded out, the background chatter stopped—just the crackle of tension between the two. Keshawn didn’t flinch. He wasn’t backing down. His cousin Vic had told him once: sometimes you gotta fight over dumb shit. That’s just how it worked in the neighborhood.

The moment broke only when Stefan glanced down to see Alexis licking the liquor that had spilled onto his hand. Without missing a beat, she snatched the cup from where it pressed against Keshawn’s chest and downed it in one long, wince-inducing gulp. A groan escaped her lips.

“You just gonna stand there looking dumb, or you pouring me another?” she purred, her tone thick with suggestion.

Stefan looked back at Keshawn—Keshawn expecting the usual smirk, the laugh that always came after they got too competitive, on or off the court. But Stefan didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smile. Not at him.

Instead, he turned to Alexis, bottle in hand.

“I’m trying to drive the boat,” he said, ignoring Tommy’s cold stare from across the room.

Alexis dropped to her knees—barely able to with her tight dress—as she looked up at him, lips parted.

“Drive it then,” she said, batting her lashes as Stefan obliged her request, pouring the liquor into her mouth.

[Caesar]

That entire last exchange is wild

Angela gonna take Vic bitch after Vic get popped

[Captain Canada]

Yeah, that last section was fucking nuts.

"Vic is a good one" WHAT?

[chosenone58]

Finally up to speed….Had a good bit to catch up on with this.

"You got a good one in Vic, trust us.”

"Keshawn’s not like that,” Andrea corrected her, "Trust me, Stefan practically has to drag him out of their house. Like you said, he’s just super busy right now with the draft and stuff but once that’s over, he’ll lock it up.”

These broads are selling each other dreams. When did things change with Gloria? She wants him to commit to her? I thought she was cool with the way things were. She out here trying to get credit for time served? Closed mouths don’t get fed baby girl.

Vic ain’t shit. Out here having a whole ass baby and still quiet. Angela ain’t either, if we’re being honest. She needs to tell that man she’s not happy and move on.
This is going to be wild when shit finally hits the fan for both parties. Paige was a nice surprise. Definitely thought it was gonna be ol’ boy finally hooking up with her. Hope she doesn’t run back to Vic because she doesn’t wanna be alone. Her ass is in for a rude awakening.

That boy Keshawn is going Top 5! I don’t know what this thing is with Nadia. Boy got too many damn irons in the fire. He has come a long way from the start of this story, on the court and off. Alexis showing out for attention in front of Tommy and Keshawn. Stefan gotta get that hate out of his heart.

Stacks trying to gas Uncle Q up to take a run at Rommel. Definitely a death warrant.

[Soapy]

That entire last exchange is wild

Angela gonna take Vic bitch after Vic get popped

Yeah, that last section was fucking nuts.

"Vic is a good one" WHAT?

hot girl summer

Finally up to speed….Had a good bit to catch up on with this.

"You got a good one in Vic, trust us.”

"Keshawn’s not like that,” Andrea corrected her, "Trust me, Stefan practically has to drag him out of their house. Like you said, he’s just super busy right now with the draft and stuff but once that’s over, he’ll lock it up.”

These broads are selling each other dreams. When did things change with Gloria? She wants him to commit to her? I thought she was cool with the way things were. She out here trying to get credit for time served? Closed mouths don’t get fed baby girl.

You know the vibes: https://x.com/CHRYS4LIS_/status/1748777442460713083

As far as Gloria, it's one thing to just be the 'homegirl' to a player on the basketball team. Keshawn's about to go pro, almost guaranteed to leave the city/state. If she don't lock it down now, he might never look her way again.

Vic ain’t shit. Out here having a whole ass baby and still quiet. Angela ain’t either, if we’re being honest. She needs to tell that man she’s not happy and move on.
This is going to be wild when shit finally hits the fan for both parties. Paige was a nice surprise. Definitely thought it was gonna be ol’ boy finally hooking up with her. Hope she doesn’t run back to Vic because she doesn’t wanna be alone. Her ass is in for a rude awakening.

Give them some grace, two young people figuring shit out in real time. I don't know that I'll be rushing to tell my girlfriend that I got my side chick pregnant

That boy Keshawn is going Top 5! I don’t know what this thing is with Nadia. Boy got too many damn irons in the fire. He has come a long way from the start of this story, on the court and off. Alexis showing out for attention in front of Tommy and Keshawn. Stefan gotta get that hate out of his heart.

Certainly trending that way for young Keshawn Chase. There might be something there with Nadia but until both parties figure it out, just gonna be nothing but pancakes. Alexis had courtside dreams. Stefan in a tough spot because he came in as the better/more hyped player than Keshawn and in just a year, Keshawn raced past him. I'm sure he wonders if he never gets hurt, if he's the one going top five instead

Stacks trying to gas Uncle Q up to take a run at Rommel. Definitely a death warrant.

Stacks is a street dude above all, gaslighting is in his blood

[Soapy]

Call Me If You Get Lost - Episode 12
"I wasn’t even asking for much," Elijah tried his best to keep his voice down as he noticed turning heads in the bank, "It’s people that have that much on a damn credit card.”

"It’s a complex matter,” the loan officer, a tall, wiry Black man named Anthony with thick black glasses, tried his best to explain, "We look at a variety of factors, more than just the amount. As you can imagine, in this economy, our appetite for risk is lowered."

"This is a good business plan," Elijah held up the physical copies he had brought with him upon receipt of the email that the bank loan he had applied for had been denied.

He had spent the last few weeks endlessly researching any and everything about the food truck business, even going around and chatting with local owners that were open to discussing their lessons learned. He documented his business plan with project revenues, including a realistic and conversative output on when the business would be profitable and how the projected loan payments were already being factored into the business model. It was an impressive and extensive document, one that took them a few hours to get through last week when Elijah met Anthony for the first time.

"It’s a really good business plan," Anthony sighed, tapping the edge of his pen against his wooden desk, "It’s just…with your record and your…history, those are factored in as well and unfortunately, the risk score on a loan like this…"

"I’ve paid my dues," Elijah said defiantly, "Alright? I’m working on my restitution but this has nothing to do with this. I’m not even giving myself much of a salary for the first two years, you se e that, right? I’m just trying to build something here and y’all keep-”

"Mr. Chase,” Anthony cut him off, "We have a model that analyzes these things, alright? It’s not up to me, it’s not up to my manager so as much as I empathize with your situation, there’s not much we can do here. There’s other banks, other options that you can look into to secure some financing for this venture.”

The silence lingered in Anthony’s office which was beginning to feel more like a glass-enclosed cage by the second as Elijah stared blankly at the stack of documents in front of him. Graphs, research info, projected costs down to each line item. All of that was reduced to a single word. Felon. That’s what he was, that’s what he’ll always be.

"Thank you,” Elijah stood up, shaking Anthony’s head and walked out of the office, the piercing California sun greeting him. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to accomplish by making the trek to the bank. He had known better but part of him, the part still clinging on to the man that he once was, still had a bit of hope left, a bit of optimism. Those two words, Loan Denied, had crushed what his prison sentence couldn’t. What losing his house, his business, his sense of self, hadn’t.

Elijah aimlessly walked past his car, loosening his tie. His feet carried him to the corner where a faded sign read "Lenny's Bar & Grill." He hadn't planned on drinking, especially not in the middle of the day, but something about the dim interior pulled at him. A refuge from the relentless sunlight and the even more relentless reality.

The cool air inside hit his face as the door swung shut behind him. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in the worn leather barstools, the dusty TV playing a baseball game nobody was watching. The place was nearly empty—just a bartender wiping glasses and a solitary figure hunched at the far end of the bar.

Elijah almost turned around when he recognized the profile. Quincy. They'd never gotten along, not even in the good times.

But something stopped him. Maybe it was the defeated slump of Quincy's shoulders, or the way his hand trembled slightly as he lifted his glass. Whatever it was, Elijah found himself sliding onto a barstool three seats away from his brother-in-law.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

"Bourbon. Neat."

The drink arrived, amber liquid catching what little light filtered through the grimy windows. Elijah took a sip, letting the burn travel down his throat. From the corner of his eyes, he could feel Quincy’s stare. He pondered ignoring it, ordering another drink, and going about his way. Something, maybe the same thing that led him to this barstool, made him turn his head. Not to confront him, but to face him.

Their eyes locked for a brief moment, sharing a glance that spoke more than words ever could. Solidarity? Understanding? Empathy? Whatever it was, a head nod followed. It was all that was needed as both men returned to face the bar, their reflecting off the dirty mirror a gentle reminder of where they were, where they had been and where they weren’t going.

…

The sleek glass doors of Westwood Solutions reflected the early morning sunlight as Angela adjusted her button down shirt, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. The lobby bustled with activity as young professionals in tailored suits rushed past, tablets and coffee cups in hand. Everything felt polished, performative, so different from the spaces she was used to.

A young white woman with two phones in her hands approached. "You must be Angela Edwards?”

Angela nodded, her professionally rehearsed smile feeling slightly forced. She knew this internship was strategic—a chance to learn organizational skills, communication strategies that could translate to grassroots work. But walking through these pristine hallways, surrounded by the gleaming machinery of corporate capitalism, she felt like an imposter.

"We're so excited to have you," the woman continued, guiding her toward the elevator. "Especially with the IPO coming up next month. Your fresh perspective will be invaluable."

Fresh perspective. Angela knew what that really meant—diversity optics, a checkbox to demonstrate the company's commitment to inclusion. Her time at Howard had prepared her to see through such performative gestures.

As they stepped onto the communications floor, rows of open workstations filled with young men and women typing furiously, Angela felt a familiar tension rising in her chest. This wasn't activism. This was corporate performance art.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Paige: Killing it today, right?

Angela stared at the message, her conflicted emotions swirling. Killing it. Or selling out?

…

Vic balanced a box of Jessica's clothes on his hip as he navigated the narrow hallway of her dorm building. The box was heavier than it looked, packed tight with sweaters and coats she wouldn't need for months. Summer was coming, and with it, a baby.

"Last one," he muttered to himself, pushing through the exterior door.

The bright sunlight momentarily blinded him. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a familiar tall figure walking toward a silver SUV parked nearby.

"Yo," Vic called out, surprising himself.

Keshawn turned, recognition flickering across his face. They hadn't spoken in months, not since everything had gotten complicated with Angela, with Jessica's pregnancy.

"Yo," Keshawn nodded, setting down his gym bag.

Vic managed a genuine smile. "Congrats on the championship, man. You balled out.”

It was the most mundane of exchanges, a cousin congratulating another on a major achievement but it felt like a momentous occasion for both parties.

"Thank you,” Keshawn cleared his throat, “Appreciate it.”

"How’s the draft shit going?"

"Coach Bronstein's been working me hard," Keshawn said, gesturing to his gym bag. "You still hoop?”

Vic hesitated, then nodded. "Sometimes. When I can."

"Stop by sometime," Keshawn offered. "Always looking for extra bodies to run drills.”

The invitation hung between them—more than just a basketball opportunity. A potential reconnection.

"I might do that," Vic said, shifting the box's weight.

[Captain Canada]

Still nasty work, but at least Keshawn offering an olive branch (this implosion is going to shake generations).