treyvon jace macron (trey)

Setting the Scene:

Trey posted up by his custom colored SRT Hellcat, parked sideways like he owned the strip. The car gleamed under the afternoon sun—black tinted windows, custom red brake calipers catching the light. “First Day Out” by Tee Grizzley rumbled low through the speakers, bass so deep it made the pavement hum. He had on black Amiri Relaxed Pull On Sweatpants, saggin’ em low enough to peep the waistband of his Ethika boxers. A white Fear of God Essentials tee hung loose over his frame, paired with fresh white G-Fazos that still had the box smell on ‘em. A thick Cuban link chain peeked from under his shirt, wrist catching light from a Rolex Oyster Perpetual. His dreads hung just enough to shadow his eyes, and smoke from a Backwoods drifted lazy from his fingers. He was scrollin’ through his phone, but he wasn’t really lookin’. He was watchin’ the mall doors, thinkin’ too much and tryna play it off.

Trey’s eyes caught a flash of pink. A girl with long hair, nails done, skin glowin’ like she ain’t ever had a bad day. She was walkin’ with a friend—laughin’, movin’ slow like the world wasn’t rushin’ her. Something in him clicked. He stood off the car, flicked his blunt, and started walkin’ her way. Damn… she fine as hell. She move different too. Bet she think I’m on bullshit.

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Dialogue and Actions:

Trey took a slow drag, exhaled smoke through his nose, then stepped in her path—not blockin’, just close enough to make her look up.

TREY: “Aye, slow down lil mama, you movin’ like you runnin’ late fa sum.” He said it low, but it could still be heard. He smirked slightly, blunt still in hand, body language loose but watchful.

She laughed under her breath, tilting her head a little.

NAILA: “Boy, I am late. You in the way, move around.”

TREY: “Yeah? You coulda fooled me. You walkin’ too pretty fa that.” He grinned slow this time, eyes tracing her outfit—a pink Chrome Hearts X Matty Boy - Web Spider Hoodie, Lina Skinny Jeans - Light Blue Wash from Fashion Nova hugging right, and a white Telfar bag swinging from her wrist. She got that soft look but talk slick. I like that. Type you argue wit just to hea ha talk. He flicked the blunt, noddin’ toward her friend.

TREY: “You straight doe. Yo lil friend coo. I’m talkin’ to you doe.”

Her friend rolled her eyes with a smile.

FRIEND: “Girl, I’a be inside. Don’t get snatched.” She walked off through the glass doors, leavin’ Naila and Trey by theyselves. Trey’s lips twitched—half grin, half challenge.

TREY: “What you got goin’ on today? Look like a ‘bout to spend money you said you ain’t got’ kinda day.”

She rolled her eyes, smirkin’.

NAILA: “Boy please, don’t worry ‘bout what I spend. I got it. You don’t kno me.”

TREY: “You right. I don’t. Yet.” He stepped a little closer, not crowdin’, just closin’ space. Smoke drifted up between them. He caught her perfume—sweet vanilla—and for a second he forgot to exhale. She smell too good to be walkin’ past me like that. I can’t let her slide.

TREY: “Lemme fix that doe. What’s yo name, shorty?”

She folded her arms, head tilted.

NAILA: “Why you needa kno that?”

TREY: “‘Cause ion talk ta strangers. And I might needa see you again when you not actin’ brand new.” He chuckled, tappin’ ash off the blunt, eyes still locked on hers. “You from hea?”

NAILA: “Yeah, I’m from the D. Born hea, raised hea, and ion plan on leavin’.”

TREY: “Word. I’m from the Chi. Moved out hea ta chill out some… get money, stay low. You know how it go.” He said it like it ain’t nothin’, but his mind drifted back—thinkin’ about K3, the block, the noise he left behind. Whole reason I came hea was to stop movin’ reckless. But damn, she makin’ this city look good.

TREY: “Detroit coo doe… ‘specially if they got girls like you walkin’ round.”

NAILA: tries to hide a smile, brushing her hair back “You funny. I’ma let you have dhet.”

Trey laughed under his breath, flickin’ the blunt once more before steppin’ back toward his car.

TREY: “Go head then. Don’t be actin’ funny when I see you again doe. I’ma rememba that face.”

Shorty was grinnin’ now, walkin’ off slow but glancin’ back once.

NAILA: “Mhm, we gon’ see.”

Trey leaned back against the Hellcat, watchin’ her reflection fade in the glass doors. The bass still pulsed under him. He took another hit, blowin’ smoke up into the air. Yeah… shorty definitely sum. Might be trouble… but shiddd, that’s my kinda trouble. Shit ian get ha name.

TREY: “Still ain't get yo name doe!!” He yelled this out to her and she yelled back while walking still.

NAILA: “NAILA!”

TREY: “Bet, I'm Trey!” He yelled this back before speakin’ again. “Lemme go yo digits!”

She stopped in her tracks then turned around smilin’ before rollin’ her eyes. He laughed before lookin’ both ways and lightly jogged to her. He pulled his phone out and held it out to her.

TREY: “I’on bite, shorty. Go ‘head, type it in.” He held his phone steady, tryna play cool even though his heart was beatin’ a lil fast from running. C’mon, don’t play. I can tell you feel it too.

She looked at him for a second, tryna decide if she was gon’ entertain it. Then she sighed, grinned a lil, and typed her number in before handin’ the phone back.

NAILA: “Don’t be blowin’ my phone up either.”

TREY: “Nah, I’ma keep it cool… fa now.” He said it wit a small grin, thumb already savin’ her contact. Yeah, I’ma definitely text her soon as she walk off. Ion care.

She turned back toward the mall doors, swingin’ her bag as she walked. NAILA: “Okay Trey, we gon’ see if you really cool.”

Trey watched her disappear thru the doors, smirkin’ as he leaned back on his Hellcat again. The blunt burned low between his fingers, bass still vibratin’ the air around him. Got ha number, got ha name. Yeah… this the start a sum.