Years later, when Joe stood on a stage in a suit that cost more than his old apartment, he didn’t talk about the glitz. He opened a tattered spiral notebook and told the world about a boy on a fire escape who learned that if you look hard enough, even the hardest streets can be a masterpiece.
"You scribblin' again, Joey?" Nana Rose would ask, her voice like sandpaper on velvet. "Just keepin' track, Nana," he’d say. Joe - Ghetto Child
Malik handed the book back, his expression unreadable. "Don't stop seein' it. People like us... we get forgotten if nobody writes it down." Years later, when Joe stood on a stage