It’s Burner Boyz Season ‼️

The gang is back! This time, the OG's will grace the scene and chile... they have more issues than Vogue. Below is the prologue to Esko's Tale. Enjoy and as always, prepare your hearts 💕


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Prologue

*Unedited


Esko barged through the crowd of people surrounded by the white sheet on the wall. When he finally approached, his deep stare searched until he got to the bottom of the sheet. A wide smile spread across his full lips as he read his name.

“Hell yeah!” he celebrated, turning around.

Trying out for the football team had been his number one goal during his junior year. His father had trained with him over the summer and to see his hard work pay off left Esko so elated.

“You made it, bro?” Drayvon asked.

Esko beamed at his older brother and nodded.

“Hell yeah, I made it. Fuck you thought?”

Drayvon smacked his lips. “Aw, nigga don’t try to stunt. Your ass was nervous as fuck this morning. You even had the bubble guts.”

Esko laughed as they walked down the hall. “You ain't lying. My shit was bubbling like a mothafucka, but I made it though. I can’t wait to tell Pops.”

“Hey, Andres.”

Esko turned toward the girl he had been crushing on since the start of the year.

Licking his lips, he replied, “What’s up, Katara?”

“Did you make the team?”

He nodded, staring at her full lips while envisioning them wrapped around his dick.

“Yeah. You gon’ cheer for me?”

A subtle smirk graced her mouth. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, a’ight. We’ll see.”

He continued down the hall with Drayvon until they parted ways to attend class. With excitement shooting through his frame, Esko grabbed his bike while Drayvon stayed behind to talk to one of the baddest seniors at Goode City High School.

“Bro, you coming home?” Esko asked him.

Drayvon smirked, shaking his head. “Nah, I'm on this situation right here.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, a’ight. I'm gone.”

Esko hopped on his bike and raced toward his house that was only six blocks away. He couldn’t wait to tell his dad how he had made the team. For the longest, Elian had expressed how much he wanted Esko to play football. Tall in stature, he’d hit a growth spurt during his eighth grade year. Standing at six foot three and 220 pounds, Esko was all muscle.

Growing up, he’d possessed this need to please his father, so he tried out for the team. Wanting to see his father cheering him on in the stands was all the motivation he needed to play football. His mother thought the sport was way too dangerous to indulge in, but with the backing of his father, Esko was able to try out.

As soon as he rounded the corner on his block, his heart stopped momentarily. Red and blue lights dazzled over the neighborhood as cops ushered Elian out of their home. His mother, Rahquel, was right behind them yelling out obscenities and making a scene.

“Yeah, get this drunk mothafucka outta my shit and don’t let his ass out! Elian, don’t you dare call me when they book your ass ‘cause I'm not bailing you out!”

“Mi Amor,” Elian slurred, “I'm so sorry.”

“I don’t wanna hear that Spanish shit! Get your bitch-ass outta my got damn house!”

His father, Elian, was of Puerto Rican descent. He grew up in Puerto Rico with parents who worked hard to provide for their children. They’d manage to come over to the States and make something of themselves, until Elian found the bottle. For years, his alcoholism had been ignored until it became too much to bear.

“Pops!” Esko yelled, hopping off his bike.

“Oh, son,” Elian slurred with watered eyes. “Forgive me.”

This was a routine that had gotten old. Esko was so tired of his father’s apologies for the same toxic behavior. Rahquel had made it clear that she wasn’t going to tolerate his drunken ways anymore. So much so that she was willing to call the police to get him arrested.

“Pops, you said you wouldn’t drink anymore.”

That was a promise Elian had continued breaking. Unfortunately, Esko was naïve enough to believe he would stop drinking for him.

“Lo siento, son. I'm going to quit. I swear.”

The cop nudged him toward the car. Esko’s jaw clenched as he watched his father be placed in the back seat. The little boy inside him wanted to break down in tears. This was supposed to be a joyous day; one where they would celebrate him accomplishing something he’d worked so hard for.

As soon as the cop placed Elian in the back seat, Esko turned around at lightning speed. He glowered at his mother who stood on the porch, wearing a glare of her own while smoking a cigarette.

“Why did you call the law?” Esko commanded, drawing near to her.

“What the fuck do you mean why did I called the police? He brought his drunk ass here falling all over the place and then fell into my glass table. I just bought that table and now it’s ruined. Six hundred dollars down the fucking drain because he can’t hold his liquor.”

Esko loved his mother dearly. She was the epitome of a fearless, Black queen. There wasn’t a woman who could take her place. Rahquel’s resilient nature was one of her best features, but ultimately, Esko was a daddy’s boy. Elian reigned supreme in his world. Yes, his father had a terrible drinking problem, but he was a good man underneath the alcoholism.

“You didn’t have to get him arrested. Do you think he really meant to fall into your table? You be so quick to call the police on him. I swear.”

She snorted before smiling. “You so fucking blinded by that man that you never see the type of stress he puts on me. Elian is a drunk ass that can’t handle his liquor. Why should I have to put up with that shit every day?”

“He loves you,” Esko argued, unwilling to see his mother’s point of view. “You just hate him for no reason.”

“Hate? Boy please.” She chuckled. “He loves the bottle more than he loves me. Hell more than your ass. You think I wanna keep dealing with a drunk mothafucka day in and day out? You damn right I called the cops. Now, I might can get two days to myself before he bails out.”

Esko’s eyes burned with tears as he stormed away. Throughout the years, his father told him crying would never solve any of his problems, so he blinked them away and got back on his bike. He had no destination in mind. The only thing he wanted to do was get far away from his home. Riding a few blocks, he ran into his best friend, Neeko, standing on the corner. Esko hopped off his bike and ambled over to where he stood.

“Where your ass been?” Neeko questioned him, shaking his hand.

“School, nigga,” Esko grumbled, finding that question to be annoying.

Neeko was a street nigga that opted out of going to school. He chose to spend most of his day posted in the hood and getting money. Meeting in elementary school, the two had grown up together and managed to maintain a tight bond.

“Aye, you still trying to join with me?”

Esko eyed him. “When are you trying to do it?”

“Nigga, today. They jumping mothafuckas in, and I think we should just get this shit over with.”

Esko released a heavy breath as he ran his hands down his face. On top of his woes with his home life, Neeko had been pressuring him to join the local gang. The Bleu Lords were a squad that caused all kinds of havoc in Goode City. Robbing, breaking into cars, stealing purses, and even murder had been their makeup. Esko was reluctant to join, but he didn’t want Neeko to be by himself.

“I already put them up on game, and they cool with you coming too,” he continued to sell to Esko. “Shit, we about to get money, bro. Ain't no more going to ask your people for bread. You about to get that shit on your own.”

Esko’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

“How you think, nigga?” Neeko pulled a bag out of his pocket that contained pills. “This shit selling like a mufucka on the streets. We about to take over.”

Esko looked down the block, mulling over the decision to join The Bleu Lords. His parents wouldn’t be happy with his choice, but who were they? They had their own problems, and Elian couldn’t put the bottle down for shit. So within a minute, he had justified joining the gang knowing his family would be disappointed in him.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Neeko grinned. “Hell yeah. That’s what I'm talking about. They over on the block right now. Let’s go.”

Esko grabbed his bike and walked alongside Neeko. They traveled about five blocks until they approached Charleston Street. When they rounded the corner, Esko noticed a group of men dressed in royal blue threads with a blue bandana hanging from the belt loop of their jeans.

“There they go right there.” Neeko pointed. “Let’s get this shit done so we can start banging for real.”

A sour feeling settled in the pit of Esko’s stomach, making it impossible to shake. However, he had already come this far and refused to turn back now.

“What y’all lil’ niggas want?” Tay asked, who was the leader of the Bleu Lords.

“We trying to be down with y’all,” Neeko spoke up.

Tay folded his arms over his bulky chest and sized them up with his eyes.

“You sure you ready for that?”

Neeko bobbed his head. “Hell yeah.”

“What about this quiet-ass nigga right here?”

Neeko nudged Esko to grab his attention. Yet, he was too focused on Pope, leaning against a tricked-out Navigator. He was the big homie in the neighborhood who stayed fly and had all the ladies on his sac. Esko had always admired him from afar. His swag was uncharted, and he stayed giving game to all the young people around the hood.

“Aye, come here,” he commanded.

Right away, the young men walked over to him as he lit his blunt. Pope carefully inspected the two before his eyes landed on Esko.

“What you doing over there?”

Esko shrugged. “Nothing, just choppin’ it up with them.”

Pope’s eyebrows dipped. “Them? The Bleu Lords?”

He tipped his head.

Pope chuckled, tapping ashes off his blunt. “You ain't got no business fucking around with them.”

Neeko huffed under his breath. “This nigga.”

Pope eyed both of them for a moment longer before he said, “I need to holla at you, Esko.”

“You gon’ have to wait until we done,” Neeko interjected.

Pope’s eyes turned dark as he glowered at him. “Mothafucka is your name Esko?”

Neeko glared at Pope but didn’t dare respond. Not only was he the big homie in the neighborhood, but he was known to put a few people down who disrespected him.

“Now move your ass around and let me holla at my lil’ homie. You can go talk to those niggas, but Esko coming with me.”

He turned to Esko with a plea in his orbs. It was a silent one, but he knew Neeko wanted him to finish what they were starting with The Bleu Lords.

“I’ll catch up with you later, Neeko.”

A flash of disappointment washed over his eyes before he shook his head.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Neeko mumbled obscenities under his breath before he walked away. Esko turned his attention on Pope who was blowing smoke from his mouth.

“I know what your ass is on and you bet’ not do that shit.”

He gulped as he glanced down at his white Forces.

“That’s not even you. Don’t let that nigga get you into some shit you can’t get out of. He’s a lowlife. He not gon’ be shit when he grow up but that don’t have to be your story, Esko.”

Finally, he looked Pope square in the eyes. Everything he said was the honest truth. Neeko wanted to indulge in the streets and had no goals in life. Esko had stuck by him because he was his best friend, but Neeko was heading down the wrong path.

“You understand me?”

Esko nodded. “Yeah.”

“Now put your bike in the trunk and come take a ride with your boy.”


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