T-Ray moved like a greedy shark that had just smelled blood, shoving through the wall of bodies in front of him.
Leon stood dead center in the crowd, cradling his beat-up acoustic guitar.
He'd sung the whole thing completely a cappella, yet it still hit like a goddamn truck. The addictive chorus hooked every single person after one listen — half the crowd was already quietly singing along.
The rebellious lyrics of Take Me to Church carried that raw anti-Jesus, straight-up heretical edge. Every line stabbed into the hearts of these bottom-rung workhorses like a knife.
This country was founded by Puritans who promised a free and equal paradise for everyone.
Yet life in Brownsville felt like an endless purgatory with no exit.
Here, God had straight-up abandoned them.
The second Leon finished singing, the entire subway station exploded with applause.
Clap clap clap—
T-Ray clapped hard as he waddled his fat ass toward Leon. "White boy, who wrote that song? I've never heard it before."
"I wrote it myself."
"You wrote it?!"
Not just T-Ray the pro — the whole crowd of spectators let out a loud "Whoa!"
Leon shrugged helplessly. "You heard right. I got the inspiration while taking a shit. New York's basically one giant toilet."
T-Ray still had doubts, but he had no choice but to believe him.
He might be gang-affiliated, but he was still half in the music industry and knew every major drop that happened.
If any artist had already released a song this fire, there was zero chance he wouldn't have heard about it.
He puffed on his cigar and sized Leon up — greasy long hair, scruffy beard, jeans so worn they were basically polished.
Maybe weirdos like this really did have talent. After all, Leon's whole look was almost identical to that old bastard Kurt Cobain back in the day.
T-Ray slapped Leon on the shoulder. "I'm very interested in you. You free tomorrow to sit down and talk properly?"
"WTF?"
Davis couldn't stay quiet anymore. That golden opportunity was supposed to be his!
He quickly yanked hard on Leon's sleeve, frantically signaling with his eyes: Bro, don't you dare do this!
Leon brushed Davis's hand away and answered T-Ray with total calm. "I refuse."
"You're turning it down? Think real careful. Not everyone gets an offer like this."
Davis let out a huge sigh of relief. I knew I hadn't misjudged this guy.
Even in a broke-ass place like Brownsville, signing an artist cost serious money.
Even for the cheapest single CD, production and promo would easily run tens of thousands of dollars.
Countless young niggas in Brownsville would kill for a shot like this. Real thousand-horse race over a single log bridge.
As long as Leon refused, Davis still had a sliver of hope.
While Davis was already daydreaming about how he'd thank his good bro once he got signed — the next second slapped him hard across the face.
Leon stuck out his right hand to T-Ray. "I meant why wait till tomorrow? I'm free right now."
Davis completely lost it. He pointed right at Leon's face and exploded, "You fucking snake! You traitor! This was my opportunity!"
"Bro, I treated you like a real brother and this is how you do me? You already forgot who saved your ass when those niggas jumped you on the street?"
Davis wanted to keep going off, but T-Ray's bodyguard — the 6'3" Martin — stepped right in front of him.
"Shhh. You need to calm down, bro."
Martin stood there like a massive black wall. One sentence was enough to shut Davis up.
Leon sighed, too lazy to explain anything.
He knew perfectly well that even if he had turned T-Ray down, the opportunity would never have gone to Davis anyway.
Besides, refusing was never an option. In America, climbing the class ladder means stepping on heads — people trampling people to get higher.
Especially at the very bottom.
"Of course that's fine," T-Ray said. "It's almost ten o'clock now, though. My office is on Chester Street — right in the middle of gang territory. You sure a white boy like you isn't scared?"
Scared?
Is there anything scarier than being broke?
Leon scoffed at the childish question and barely held back a laugh. "Let's get going then."
With that, T-Ray didn't waste any more words. He waved Leon toward the Cadillac Escalade parked right outside the subway station.
The crowd that had gathered quickly scattered, leaving only Davis sitting beside the speaker, head in his hands, full of bitter regret.
Chester Street wasn't far from the subway, but because the gangs were so bad, even as a Brownsville local Leon rarely came here.
Brownsville was a Black neighborhood, known as one of the most dangerous spots in all of New York — packed with assaults, drugs, and gunshots.
Chester Street was the heart of that ghetto.
The famous rapper The Notorious B.I.G. made his name right on this street before breaking into the gangsta-rap game.
The moment Leon stepped into T-Ray's office, the first thing he saw was two Black girls in tiny bikinis.
They were clearly hand-picked — both had shiny, powerful asses and bodies that looked like they ran on straight V8 power.
As soon as T-Ray walked in with Leon, the girls smoothly poured two glasses of whiskey and slid a freshly cut cigar between T-Ray's lips.
"Bitch," T-Ray growled, slapping one girl hard on the ass with a satisfied grin. "I'll keep it short. Everyone knows I've been hunting talent in Brownsville."
"But honestly, finding gold in the trash is hard as hell. And you… you're the piece of gold I've been looking for."
Leon grabbed the whiskey glass and took a big swig. "Thanks for the compliment."
T-Ray pointed at the wall behind him covered in photos of rappers. "You see all these niggas? They all sat right here in this office once. When NAS negotiated his debut contract with me, he was sitting exactly where you are now. Today he's a legend."
He paused, then muttered under his breath, "Ungrateful bastard."
"You want to sign me, right, Mr. T-Ray?"
T-Ray was caught off guard by how blunt Leon was, then blew out a thick cloud of cigar smoke. "I like straight shooters. If you're down, I can release a record for you immediately!"
"Your photo might end up on that legendary wall behind me one day. You'd be the only white face up there."
To Leon, all this big-talk pie-in-the-sky bullshit was no different from farting. The only thing he cared about was money.
"I'm interested in what you're saying, partner. But how much of a cut are you giving me?"
"Ten percent of record sales, plus ten percent of publishing rights. How's that sound?" T-Ray tapped the table. "If I didn't see real talent in you, I wouldn't even offer this kind of deal. Go ask around. Plenty of niggas would take zero points just for the chance to drop a record."
two bitch imagination :
The second they stepped into T-Ray's office, the vibe flipped from ghetto street to straight-up pimp paradise. Two hand-picked Black girls in tiny string bikinis waited like they'd been born for this exact moment. Both had shiny, powerful asses that jiggled with every step, bodies thick and curvy like they ran on straight V8 power—wide hips, tiny waists, fat tits barely contained by the thin fabric.
As soon as T-Ray walked in with Leon, the girls moved like clockwork. One (braids down to her ass, name tag in Leon's head already reading Keisha) poured two fat glasses of whiskey. The other (short curly afro, even thicker thighs—Tasha) slid a fresh-cut cigar between T-Ray's lips and lit it with a gold lighter.
"Bitch," T-Ray growled, slapping Tasha hard on her right ass cheek. The *SMACK* echoed off the walls and her juicy black ass rippled like water. She moaned and pushed it back against his palm with a slutty little giggle.
T-Ray grinned wide. "These my assistants, Keisha and Tasha. They keep the talent happy. And since you just dropped that church-burning fire in my station like it was nothing… why don't you sample the full hospitality before we talk numbers, white boy?"
Leon's cock was already twitching in his worn jeans from the high of the performance and the sight of these two ghetto goddesses. He downed the whiskey in one go, eyes locked on their bodies. "You don't gotta tell me twice."
T-Ray laughed deep, leaning back in his big leather chair. "That's the spirit. Break 'em in, superstar. Show me you got that dog in you."
Keisha bit her glossy lip and dropped straight to her knees in front of Leon, her massive tits bouncing as she unzipped him. "Mmm, I liked that voice, baby… real nasty. Let's see if the rest of you matches."
His thick white cock sprang out, already rock-hard and veiny, the head shiny with pre-cum. Tasha dropped beside her instantly, both girls attacking him like starving animals. Keisha wrapped her soft lips around the swollen head and sucked deep, tongue swirling while she moaned around his shaft. Tasha licked down the underside, sucking his heavy balls into her warm mouth one by one, spit already dripping everywhere.
"Fuuuck, that's it, you greedy little sluts," Leon groaned, grabbing a fistful of Keisha's braids and a handful of Tasha's curly hair. He fucked Keisha's throat in slow, deep strokes, feeling her gag and choke, tears smearing her mascara as saliva ran down her chin onto her bouncing tits. "Choke on this white dick, bitch. All the way."
The girls switched—now Tasha was deepthroating him balls-deep while Keisha licked his shaft and balls, both of them making filthy wet slurping sounds that filled the office. T-Ray just smoked his cigar, watching with a satisfied smirk, diamond rings flashing as he stroked his own bulge through his pants.
Leon yanked them both up, spun Keisha around and bent her over the big wooden desk. He ripped the tiny bikini bottom to the side, exposing her fat, shaved black pussy already dripping down her thighs. He slapped her ass hard—*SMACK SMACK*—watching it jiggle, then slammed his cock balls-deep in one brutal thrust.
"SHIIIIT—!" Keisha screamed, back arching, walls clenching around him like a vice. "So fucking big—stretch this pussy, daddy!"
Leon pounded her mercilessly, hips slapping against that powerful ass, the desk rattling with every thrust. Her tits swung wildly against the wood. Tasha climbed onto the desk in front of her, spread her thick thighs, and shoved Keisha's face into her dripping cunt. "Eat this pussy while he wrecks you, hoe."
Keisha licked like a pro, tongue flicking Tasha's clit while moaning into her friend's folds. Leon reached around and rubbed Keisha's swollen clit in fast circles, making her squirt a hot gush down his balls and thighs. "That's right, cum on this dick, you nasty ghetto bitch."
He pulled out, switched to Tasha—bending her over right next to Keisha, slamming into her tighter, wetter pussy. "Goddamn, both these cunts feel like heaven. So fucking wet for a white boy."
The girls made out sloppily over the desk, tongues tangled, moaning into each other's mouths while Leon alternated strokes—deep in Tasha, then back to Keisha, then both of them side-by-side with asses up, begging for more. He grabbed their braids and afro, using them like handles, railing them harder until the whole office smelled like sex and whiskey.
Finally he pulled out, stroking his throbbing cock. "On your knees, sluts. Open wide."
Both girls dropped instantly, tongues out, tits pressed together. Leon groaned and exploded—thick, hot ropes of cum painting their faces, tongues, and tits. They moaned like whores, licking every drop off each other, swapping his load in messy, cum-covered kisses while staring up at him with cum-drunk eyes.
Leon zipped up, still breathing hard, that devilish grin on his face. "Now *that's* how you welcome new talent."
T-Ray clapped slow, cigar smoke curling around his laugh. "Goddamn, white boy. You really are a piece of gold in the trash. Now… about that contract. Ten percent of record sales, plus ten percent of publishing. Sound good?"
Leon wiped a last drop of cum off Keisha's lip with his thumb and let her suck it clean. "Make it fifteen and throw in these two bitches whenever I want… and we got a deal, partner."
The girls giggled, still on their knees, faces shiny with his load, ready for round two whenever their new star said the word.