THE PRICE OF FAST MONEY

My Life in the Cocaine Business, the Friends I Lost, and the Peace I Had to Find

Chapter One: The Boy Who Wanted More

There was a time in my life when I believed money could solve almost every problem a man could ever face.I wanted the kind of life people talked about when they thought nobody was listening. I wanted nice clothes, expensive nights, a car parked outside my house, and enough money in my pocket that I would never have to explain myself to anyone. I wanted to walk into a room and feel that my presence meant something.More than anything, I wanted to escape the feeling of not having enough.I had watched what financial struggles could do to a family. I understood the pressure of wanting to help the people you loved but having nothing substantial to offer them. I knew what it felt like to dream about a better life while reality kept reminding you that dreams did not pay bills.I was young, impatient, and convinced that ordinary life was taking too long.While other people talked about building their futures slowly, I wanted mine immediately. I did not want to wait until thirty to buy a car. I did not want to spend years working and saving before I could afford the things I desired. I wanted to experience life while I was still young enough to enjoy it.Somewhere along that journey, I entered the cocaine business.Looking back now, I can identify the moment my life started moving in a direction I could never have fully understood at the time. But when I was living it, I did not think of myself as a man walking toward trouble.I thought I was a man who had discovered an opportunity.And when the money started coming, every doubt I had seemed to disappear.I had found what I believed was my shortcut.I did not yet understand that shortcuts could lead you somewhere you never intended to go.

Chapter Two: When Money Changed Everything

The first thing money changed was not my lifestyle.It changed how I saw myself.Suddenly, things that had once felt far beyond my reach became possible. I could afford things without spending days calculating whether I could manage them. I could make plans without immediately thinking about the cost. I could walk into places where I once felt out of place and behave as though I belonged there.The transformation was intoxicating.There is a particular feeling that comes with having money when you remember what it was like not to have it. Every purchase feels like proof that you have escaped something. Every expensive night becomes a celebration of how far you believe you have come.I started enjoying the freedom that money appeared to offer.My clothes changed. My weekends changed. My expectations changed. Even my conversations changed because I no longer looked at life through the same financial limitations that had once defined so much of my thinking.People began to see a different version of me.Some admired me. Some wondered how I was doing so well at such a young age. Others probably made their own assumptions.I enjoyed the attention more than I admitted.When you are young and suddenly have access to things that once seemed impossible, it is easy to confuse the attention you receive with respect. You begin believing that people value you for who you are when, sometimes, they are simply attracted to what surrounds you.But I was not interested in asking those questions.I was enjoying myself.Money had become more than something I possessed. It had become part of my identity.I wanted more of it, not necessarily because I needed more, but because I had become accustomed to the feeling of always having it.And the more I had, the more normal the extraordinary became.What once felt like a luxury eventually became an expectation.That was one of the first things I failed to notice: I was becoming dependent on a lifestyle that required me to keep moving forward, regardless of what it was doing to me.I thought I was in control.I did not realize how much of my life was beginning to revolve around money.

Chapter Three: My First Car at Twenty-One

I bought my first car at twenty-one.Even now, when I think about that moment, I remember what it represented to me.It was not simply a vehicle. It was a statement to myself that I had reached a place I had once only imagined. At an age when many people were still trying to figure out their direction, I had something tangible that made my progress feel real.I remember the pride of knowing that I could call it mine.There was something special about getting into that car and knowing I no longer had to imagine what it would feel like to own one. I could drive it, park it, and look at it whenever I wanted. It was evidence of the life I had been chasing.Twenty-one.That number mattered to me.I was young enough to feel invincible and old enough to believe I had figured out something the world had not taught everyone else.I looked at the car and saw success.I saw independence.I saw a young man who had refused to remain where life had placed him.What I did not see was the weight attached to the money that had made it possible. I did not consider what it meant to build a life around an illegal business, or how quickly circumstances could change. I was too focused on what I had gained to consider what I might eventually lose.At that age, the future seemed like something I could negotiate with.I thought I had time to enjoy myself, make money, and eventually decide what kind of man I wanted to become.I believed I could separate the lifestyle from the consequences.I was wrong about many things, but that was one of my biggest mistakes.Still, I will not pretend that buying that first car was not a proud moment. It was. I remember the excitement, the sense of achievement, and the satisfaction of finally touching something I had wanted for so long.The complicated part is that a moment can make you happy without making the choices behind it right.Both things can be true.My first car remains part of my story, but so does everything I failed to understand when I bought it.

Chapter Four: The Woman I Wanted to See Winning

There was another person I wanted to see enjoying the life I was beginning to afford.My girlfriend at the time.When you love someone, you want to share your happiness with them. At least, that was how I understood love then. If something good happened to me, I wanted her to experience it too. If I could afford something that would make her life easier, I wanted to help.I did not want to be the only one enjoying the benefits of the money.I helped her buy her own car.That decision meant something to me because it represented more than spending money on a relationship. I wanted her to have her own independence, her own comfort, and something she could be proud of.I wanted us both to look at our lives and feel that we were moving forward.We were young, and the future seemed full of possibilities. Having cars made our world feel bigger. There were places we could go, experiences we could share, and moments that made ordinary days feel special.Sometimes, when I think about that period, I wonder whether we understood how unusual our lives had become.We were experiencing things that, for many people our age, were still distant dreams.But money can make a relationship comfortable without necessarily making it secure.You can afford dinners, trips, gifts, and beautiful experiences. You can remove some financial pressures. You can create memories that remain meaningful long after the relationship changes.But money cannot guarantee that two people will understand each other.It cannot prevent disagreements, settle every insecurity, or promise that love will last forever.I learned that relationships have their own challenges, regardless of how much money a person has.And when I look back at helping my ex-girlfriend buy her car, I do not see it as a mistake simply because the relationship eventually became part of my past.At that time, I wanted her to be happy, and I acted on that feeling.Our relationship belonged to a chapter of my life that I cannot rewrite. Whatever happened between us afterward, that period was real.Sometimes, people leave your life, but the things you did for them remain part of your history.You learn to...