In another life Marc Love would be a rapper. Maybe he'd be called Dr. Love. Maybe in another life, his alter ego would be the
Green Man
and he'd get bread every day. But a different type of bread, one that wouldn't sustain him. He would never have found dancing, because he would always be hustling. Marc Love no matter what other life was always hustling. He would be getting bread getting paper everyday, EVERY DAMN DAY! He'd yell at himself in the mirror, Every minute Every hour EVERY DAY. Get that money get that paper. He'd say, and then look at himself in the face before spitting on the mirror. He'd look at himself, and the thick spit slide down the mirror. Disgusting he'd think, not sure which he was referring too. He had a cleaner that took care of it, so he didn't care. She noticed the spit on the mirror every god damn day but she didn't complain, she didn't ask he paid well. This Marc Love had enough money to survive. He didn't have to hide. He just had to hustle.
This Marc Love didn't like what he did. Just wanted to get money save the money then repeat. He'd buy drugs, but mostly cars. Not that he had time to drive them, but he'd put them in a garage. There were a sign of his hustle, or thats what he would tell himself.
