Time and location (sometime in the past): 6:05pm, Brooklyn, New York

Desmond stood out on the balcony of his two-bedroom apartment, leaning on the railing as he watched the sun set behind the Brooklyn Bridge. Work had been unjustifiably grueling today, and the pennies he and Nora had been pinching just to scrape by only added insult to injury. He exhaled heavily and let his head hang low, attempting to release the tension in his shoulders and allow the stress to melt away. They’d figure things out; they always did. He faintly heard the front door of the apartment open and wondered if Nora had gotten off work early. Her company was something he craved on days like today. She was an island in an ocean of uncertainty, something to latch onto, a reason to survive. Removing himself from the railing, he headed inside. Much to his surprise, it was his son Dominic rummaging through the fridge rather than his wife. When he finally popped his head out from behind the refrigerator door, there was a leftover piece of cold chicken from the previous nights’ dinner dangling from his mouth.

“Yo Dom, I was gonna eat that,”

Desmond said, pointing to the tenderloin in his son’s mouth. Dominic grabbed the chicken and tore a piece off with his teeth, chewing loudly.

“Snooze you lose, old man,” he said with a shrug.

Desmond chuckled.

“How was school today man? You go to Gabriel’s after?”

Dominic made his way to the dining table and seated himself as he finished eating.

“School was alright, and yeah. We got a group together and hit the court at his complex for a bit. Ran a pretty mean game on that punk white boy Brian too,” he said with a smirk. Desmond pulled the chair out nearest his son, sat down and tousled his hair.

“Well one day your old man will be rich, and then the court will be right in your backyard. Along with an infinity edge pool, a jacuzzi, the works.”

“Sure pops. You just let me know when pigs start flying, then I’ll believe you.”

“I offer you the promise of riches and you’re just gonna throw shade like that? That’s cold-blooded, son. Also, you know you’re half white, right? Or did you forget?”

Dominic jokingly socked him in the arm at that, and Desmond ruffled his kid’s hair again in return, all in good spirit and fatherly love.

Desmond laughed, but immediately felt a sting of shame knowing that his son was never going to believe they would have more than they did now. Dominic stood from the table and pushed the chair back into place, disappearing into his room shortly after. He was seventeen and graduating high school soon, an unavoidable fact of life that had Desmond hyper-focusing on finding a way to provide more. Maybe the kid was right; maybe this was all they were meant to achieve in life. A mediocre existence on the west side of Brooklyn. The desperate and constant urge Desmond felt to give him more, to give Nora more was palpable… but seemingly out of reach. Bleeding Edge, the biotech company he worked for was cutting hours due to downsizing, and his pay already barely kept the lights on. Nora was still trying to get through her doctorates program and finish schooling, but until she did her part-time work was only enough to cover groceries every month. Once she completed her degree, she’d be making more than Desmond could even dream of. Maybe then they could finally move out of this shoebox they called home… Dominic re-entered the living area, suddenly dressed to the nines and smelling like half a bottle of cologne. Desmond raised an eyebrow.

“Where in the world are you going that has you breaking out the Retro Highs?”

He asked, referencing the pine green and black Air Jordans on Dominic’s feet. They were his most coveted pair of sneakers and had required more than a couple of weeks of saving up money from his shifts at the corner market after school.

“I have a date with Marissa, how do I look? Fresh in my Jordans no doubt?”

Dominic strutted about dramatically, and Desmond took the opportunity to hype his son up. Afterall, he had met Marissa a few times now and she seemed like a positive influence in Dominic’s life.

“Ooooo boy, dressed to impress! You get that from your dad, but don’t tell your mom I said that.”

Dominic chuckled.

“Quit playing,”

“All seriousness son, you look good. Now get out of here, don’t keep her waiting.”

“Alright, see you soon dad, I love you,”

He smiled, and for that briefest of moments Desmond felt like everything would work itself out, like he could take on the world with one hand tied behind his back.

“I love you too,”

Dominic nodded, then jogged for the door as Desmond shouted after him.

“Remember! Back by 10pm!”

“I know, I know, see you later!” his voice slipped through the crack in the door just before it shut, leaving Desmond to his thoughts once more. No matter what the future held, Desmond slept easy at night knowing that he and Nora had raised such a respectable young man. Every good parent could talk up their own child, but Desmond and Nora never felt the need to do so with Dominic; it just showed. In his words, in his actions, he truly was a blessing. He stood from the table as his belly grumbled, heading for the fridge to see what was left after Dominic had pillaged it. Before he reached it, a noise like firecrackers rattling off grabbed his focus. It took a minute to register that what he had heard had been semi-automatic gunfire, and that it had been close; too close. Desmond ran to the balcony, his pulse suddenly racing. When he arrived and slammed into the railing to peer over it at the street below, he did so with such force that for a moment, he thought he might go over the edge. A car peeled off recklessly from outside the entrance of his apartment building, a man with a bandana concealing the lower half of his face hanging out the rear-passenger window. On the sidewalk, Desmond could see a body, immobile and bleeding out. From all the way up on the seventh floor, he could just barely make out the victim’s shoes; they were pine green and black.

Next Chapter: Chapter 6: Leverage