
#extradirty

Kiana Khansmith
macklin celebrini has autism

Love Begins
styofa doing anything

⁂
noise dept.
Today's Document
Cosimo Galluzzi
trying on a metaphor
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sweet Seals For You, Always
cherry valley forever

No title available
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

@theartofmadeline

Kaledo Art

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Three Goblin Art

titsay

seen from United States
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@etherealflowerwrites
alwaysbewoke:
blackness-by-your-side:
I’m just scared people are going to forget about Flint and forget about these children.
FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!! FLINT IS STILL WITHOUT CLEAN WATER!!!
So I found out about this store (ran by an older white woman, which is important because I’m a young Black woman, and young Black entrepreneurs are always especially stolen from) because she accidentally followed my personal assistants Instagram.
They’re blatantly copying my stuff (mine on the left Foxie Cosmetics, theirs copies on the right Shine Happy Life) and it doesn’t even stop with what’s shown here. They copy everything from trying to match up ingredients, descriptions and the actual name of the products. I’ve had this stuff from the beginning and theirs are new. It’s clear that she sits on my site copying my things from my store and others.
DO NOT SUPPORT THEFT. It’s one thing to be inspired and create something new, but it’s another to straight up copy, and with no shame ESPECIALLY as a small business. Especially as a white woman stealing from, and trying to ride the success of a Black woman. I make everything and do everything myself and I work hard on these vegan recipes and the research, and don’t appreciate her copying at all.
This is a thing that happens in the cosmetics, ect. world, but it doesn’t have to be accepted, and I won’t be the one to do that when it comes to my hard work.
hey guys spread this around
i cannot have another white person taking credit for my peoples hard work
BOOOOOOSSSTTTTT
!!!!!!!!!!booooooooooost
Signs
~~six~~
“Hello?” I ask, clearing my throat and pushing his head away. I am so glad I got this phone call to interrupt whatever it was I was just doing.
Not even I knew what the hell was going on. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. What the hell we were doing.
“Hello, is this Delana Moore?”
“Yes this is she. May I ask who is calling?” I say, scooting away from Laurent and putting on my professional voice.
“I’m Jessica Louis, a scout with Diamond Dresses, I got your number from Destiny Woods and she recommended you as a model for our 2016 dress catalogue.” A wide smile spreads across my face. Thank God for Miss Destiny. “We at Diamond Dresses were wondering if you were interested in the job.”
“Yes.” I say eagerly, all professionalism going out of the window. I hop up and do a little dance. “I am very interested Ms. Louis.”
“Great. I shall email you all details. If you have any further questions, you could just call or email me.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much.”
“No problem dear.” Ms. Louis chuckles. “Alright, bye bye now.”
“Bye.” And with that, the phone call was over.
“What happened?” Laurent asks from his position on the couch, but I didn’t move. For a second, I was stuck and everything just resonated in me. I was finally moving up in the world and I was going to become a model.
“Oh my God.” I mutter.
“You okay, Lana?”
“Oh my God!” I squeal, jumping around. “I’m a model, Laurent! I’m a model!” I squeal, jumping on the couch next to him. “Oh my God, Laurent!” I say, draping myself across his lap. “My dreams are coming true!”
“I told you.” Laurent simply says, his hand going into my hair. “Congrats.”
“Thank you.” I say sweetly, looking up at him. He leans down, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. He moves back, but my hand on his face stops him and I move upward, keeping our lips together.
This is what I was talking about before. When I said I didn’t know what I was doing. This is what I don’t know. Like… I don’t know how it happened. One minute we’re chilling, sitting on his couch in his apartment the next we’re kissing and… I like it.
I don’t like him, I like the kissing. That’s what I like. It has nothing to do with him or anything. We’re just… being weird. We just have sexual tension and that’s fucking us up and shit.
He pulls away, biting down on my bottom lip and taking it with him, making me moan a bit. Fuck, this wasn’t good. I mean, it was so good, it felt so good, but oh my God. This needed to stop. My head was getting cloudy, my panties were getting a little wet (I cannot tell a lie, this nigga was… wow.)
“I love it when you moan.” He mutters, his voice making me shiver.
“O-okay.” I stutter, pulling away. “I uh, think we should do something else.” I say, sitting up and scooting away from him. This cannot happen. Not with him. Not with anyone. Not now. I had to focus on modeling.
“Why? You like it no?” He asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“That doesn’t matter.” That was code for yes. “I don’t kiss guys I’m not in a relationship with, so unless we’re now in a relationship, we can’t do anything more.” That’s gonna stop him. He wouldn’t just sit there and be like, ‘oh okay, we’re in a relationship now so I can kiss you.’ Who would do that? Really?
He better not say that shit.
He sighs and lets me go, shrugging. “Okay.” He simply says, making me sigh in relief. I really didn’t want things to go too far. We have to keep a level of professionalism between us because despite our… friendship? I still work for Miss Destiny and so does he. So we’re co workers. And it’s never smart to go out with your co worker.
But him not saying he wants to be with me means… he didn’t wanna be with me. Which means if I wouldn’t have said anything, he would’ve just fucked me and left me. Which is trash, because if he would’ve just left me, I would’ve been mad as fuck. Like, don’t just make me like you and then dump me after you’ve fucked. Stay with me. Say you like me or love me or something. Make me feel special.
But then… just lying to me would make things worse.
“I should go.” I mutter, grabbing my phone and getting up.
“Lana-”
“Bye.” I say, quickly walking to the door and leaving.
Maybe I was the one with a secret crush.
~
His hand slides up my back and to my curls, pulling tightly when he had a handful and pulling my head back. I had to bite my lip in order not to moan too loud, but it didn’t work when he started kissing the sweet spot on my neck.
He knew what I loved. It was as if he had seen right through me because he had been doing this ever since our sweet kisses turned into something heavier.
Sexual tension.
I couldn’t help it and I know I promised myself that things wouldn’t get to serious unless we were officially going out. But one, he has a way of looking at me that just kills me (i always wonder how many girls he gives this look to, but… whatever) two, he can do magical things with his tongue. Now, we aren’t going to ask how I know, but I feel as if we all understand how I know.
That’s as far as we’ve gotten. I wanted to return the favor, but I’m not really good at it plus he refused after my failed attempts, so we were chilling.
But, uhm, right now he was kissing my neck in the sweetest of ways and I couldn’t stop moaning. It made it worse that I was supposed to be on my break right now, yet here I was, in the corner of Miss Destiny’s division of the building, wrapped around Laurent like some type of scarf.
Except I wasn’t around his neck or nothing. But God my legs being wrapped around his face sounds nice.
Sometimes, he makes me feel like some type of hoe. Because like, he has me doing things that I’ve only done with a man I’ve been with for at least six months.
Well, back to our ‘meeting’ in this closet. We’re making out and his hand slides up my shirt, ready to grab himself a handful but… his phone starts ringing. He knows how much I hate it when his phone goes off when he’s with me, like I’m his girlfriend or something. I’m not, and I know I’m not, but honestly, I might as well be. I have set very strict guidelines for him since we’re continuing this little affair.
He can’t entertain anyone besides me. There aren’t any girls until we stop and that’s how it’s gonna be. In turn, with me there aren’t any other guys until we’re done as well (not like I had any in the first place. Laurent is the first guy to show interest in me for a very long time) and I have no problems with being faithful. He doesn’t either it seems.
But I hated it when his phone went off because he always checks it. I should be the center of attention, so I don’t know why he doesn’t just mute it. How can you just stop in the middle of everything and just check a phone. That’s ruining the whole ass mood.
He pulls away from me, pecking my lips right when I let out a huff. I’m bout to walk the fuck out this closet and leave his ass. “Sorry bébé.” He mutters, making me roll my eyes and he answers the phone. “Yes?”
I lean back into the wall, huffing again. He always does this and it’s so irritating. Like I’m a needy bitch, I need attention. I need kisses and pecks, all of that. I needed it all and it was a fucking mess because I wasn’t supposed to get involved with either of these twins. I was supposed to leave them alone and not get wrapped up in them and here I am, having a… fling with this twin. Catching feelings and shit.
I was a fucking mess.
He glances at me as he continues the conversation (in french which is irritating cuz i don’t speak a lick of french so i can’t eavesdrop), quickly looking away when our eyes meet. That was kinda sketch cuz he always looked into my eyes on some weirdo shit. Then he’d laugh when I looked away because things were getting awkward and I looked away.
He better not have a girlfriend back in france or some shit, cuz I will hurt his ass. He knows this.
“I’ll talk to you later Michelle.” He suddenly says in english. “I’m in the middle of something right now.” He pauses and rolls his eyes. “No. I gotta- Michelle-”
“It’s okay.” I say, waving him off. “We’re done here, so you can go ahead and speak.” I say, fixing my hair and leaving the closet. What we’re doing is trashy anyway and unprofessional. I wasn’t supposed to be fucking coworkers. I look around, thankful that we picked the closet in the hallway no one went down cuz it would look sketch if I stepped out of a closet.
Actually… it doesn’t just look sketch, it is sketch.
I walk down the hall, cursing the feeling of jealousy rising in me. I didn’t know who Michelle was, but I was pretty sure he didn’t have a sister named Michelle when he was telling me about his family. It could be a cousin or something, but I honestly don’t know. And I’m getting a little emotional.
I had no time to play games with him though, so of course imma feel some time of way. I wasn’t tryna waste my time.
Even though… in a way I am because… neither of us said anything about a relationship.
I’m a mess. Here I am, falling for a nigga who probably got five side chicks.
I’m fucking dumb as hell.
“Delana!”
Ignore it girl. He ain’t no good. Leave his ass alone-
Then I realized he had long legs and if he took several quick steps, he could catch up to me. And thats what he did.
“Delana, don’t be jealous, baby.” He says, a sweet and genuine smile. He was trying to make me feel secure but I didn’t. How could you with someone like Laurent? He’s notorious for having hoes.
“I’m not jealous.” I lie, crossing my arms and turning my head away. “Who’s Michelle?” I ask, my poker face breaking. I was jealous.
He blinks. “Michelle is…” He trails off, probably thinking of a way to sugarcoat his words.
“Is?” I ask impatiently. I didn’t have time for him to think of a lie or to sugarcoat nothing. If she was his girl or someone he’s been talking to I need to know right now so whatever the fuck we got can be through.
“Michelle is the co owner of something very important to me.”
“Co owner?” So what, they got a house together or something? A car? What the fuck was this nigga talking about? Why is he talking in riddles? “Laurent, I have no fucking time-”
“She the co owner of my son, Delana.”
I blink. Half of me wanted to to cuss him out and the other half wanted to just walk away. “You couldn’t have just said baby momma?” I simply ask, my voice emotionless. Or at least, I hope it was. I hope it didn’t sound like I was hurt. Because I wasn’t.
That was tough guy Nova talking, I’m super hurt. Why didn't he tell me earlier?
“Because I don’t care for her like that.” He shrugs, making me raise an eyebrow.
The lie detector determined…. That was a lie.
“Plus, co owner sound professional.”
“It sounds like you think of your son as a possession and not a person.”
He blinks, comprehending my words slowly. “You right.”
“Next time… just say she’s your baby’s mother and leave it at that.” I inhale deeply, hoping the air would cool me down. I was hot, hot as in mad. And not even really just mad, I just… I wish he would’ve told me sooner.
I look at him, the two of us making eye contact and I pray he couldn’t see my emotions. “You should’ve fucking told me sooner.” I say softly.
“I sorry baby.” He says, taking a step forward, but I take one back, moving out of the way. I wasn’t in the mood.
“It’s whatever.” I say. “I’ll see you later. My break is over.”
I felt sick.
Okay, sooooooooooo
things are gonna get changed around and revised and cleaned up and possibly updated. no promises. but im going to try my hardest. but i do promise that every story will be completed this year.
Signs
~~five~~
I never thought I’d be in a kitchen that belonged to Laurent, cooking besides/against Laurent, singing to Jazmine Sullivan. Like, it was just one of those things I’d never think I’d do, ever, and now look. See, that shows that you can do anything if you put your mind to it, really.
Not that I ever worked hard to get here. Honestly, I didn’t do shit to get here, per say. Laurent’s stupid ass challenged me and now I have to perform. And, as my momma always said ‘Nova, it’s either go big or go home, and I swear to God if I see you at home because you didn’t go big, imma hurt you.’
So, I gotta go big.
“If you decide modeling not for you, you could always sing.” Laurent says, looking at me as he minces some onions. He refused to tell me what he was making, but it looked like some pasta. Since my specialty was in hors d'oeuvres and desserts (and making some bomb ass drinks, alcoholic and otherwise (thanks mommy)), he told me to make dessert. But it kinda made this challenge void because if we weren’t both preparing something similar or in the same food category, then how was one of us going to win?
Now we’re just cooking with each other. Well, in a way, I would be baking. Now I’m just watching. And singing.
“I’m not that good.” I say, shrugging. “Did you notice that now we’re just cooking. It’s not a challenge anymore.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, stopping and looking over.
“Well, I’m making desserts and you’re making a main course. How are Larry and Justice going to choose which one of us is better when we’re making two different things?”
He blinks then shrugs. “It not matter.” He says, going back to cooking. “I only say that so we can spend more time together without Larry.”
“So I was right.” I mutter, shaking my head.
“About what?”
Should I reveal my knowledge of his secret crush? Would it be too soon? “You were just using me all along.” I cross my arms. It’s probably not true, so I won’t say shit. “So you could make me bake like some housewife.”
He frowns, looking at me again before bursting into laughter. “You so weird.” He says, shaking his head. “No, I just want to know why my brother so attracted to you. Not just in looks but as a person. He say you so great but I not see it at first.”
“So you’re admitting that I’m great?” I ask, flipping my hair. “It’s okay, Laurent, I already know.”
“I not say you great, but you okay.”
“Tsk, whatever nigga.” I say.
“So, what you like Delana?”
“I like modeling.” I say shrugging.
“And?”
“Cooking, singing, going on social media. Typical shit.” I shrugs, leaning on the counter as the song fades and changes to Sukca For Love by Frank Ocean.
I wonder what Frank Ocean is doing right now.
Not making his album probably. Asshole.
“Oh, I like learning new recipes. Like, those Buzzfeed food video shits, I love watching those.” I chuckle, pushing my curls out of my face. I had a whole bunch of hair. Like, thick curls, it was so annoying. And people always thought I was some sort of mixed girl, like no.
When I was thirteen, I cut off all of my hair (I was a wild child and did things without my mom’s permission until she just started giving me more freedom. which is why she still doesn’t know about the tattoo I got when I was sixteen (again, shouts out to my momma for not really giving a fuck for a while)) and then I got really into those natural hair videos and started doing what they were doing, so now I got some under the boob length curls, all natural, 4C.
Deep conditioning and mayonnaise works, honeys. Listen to them hair gurus.
“I think I see some.”
“We’ll watch them together sometime. They’re hella cool.” I say, waving my hand at him.
Wait, ‘we’ll’? Did I just say ‘we’ll’ as in me and him? As in we’re gonna hang out more? What the fuck am I doing?
“Alright. I wanna see what you like about them.”
“You seem very interested in me.” It’s the secret crush, maybe.
“So does my brother, but you not seem to mind.” He counter back, making me shrug and nod. He had a valid point.
“Well, it’s expected of him.”
“And it’s not expected of me?”
“No. You were acting like an asshole when we met, so I assumed that we weren’t ever going to be friends. I’m liking this character development though.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “I not a outgoing person like my twin. Sometimes it takes me years to warm up to someone.”
“I see that. I’m just glad I wasn’t one of them.” I say, crossing my arms. Look at me, being nice and shit. I should win a prize. I’m a great person.
“Really?” He asks, turning to look at me. I give him a thumbs up and a nod.
“Yups.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I hit a breakthrough. I bet no one’s ever said that to him before. I’m sure he was one of those characters that didn’t really have a lot of friends and blocked themselves off and guarded themselves because they didn’t want to get hurt. Then a person like me comes along and breaks down those walls and pierces their hearts and becomes their best friend and secret crush.
I should be a storyteller or some shit because this shit is elaborate and wild. There is no way imma be his best friend. Close friend? Maybe. But I’m not entirely sure of best friend. I already have a best friend and that was Justice.
Speaking of Justice… where the hell are they?
“When were Justice and Larry supposed to come over?”
“I never call.” Laurent says, shrugging. “So Larry not know to go get your cousin.”
“You… you are something else.” I say, shaking my head. “If you wanted to get me alone, you could’ve just said so.”
He shrugs, putting the hard pasta in a pot. “Well, now you know.” He says.
Fucking crazy ass nigga. He’s probably a rapist or something and I just trapped myself with him.
Fuck, I was dumb.
~
“Oh my gaaaawd.” I moaned, spooning some of the Oreogasm Skillet Brownie into my mouth. It was my first time making it but oh my Jesus. I outdid myself with this. It is so fucking good.
“It not that good.” Laurent says, shaking his head.
“What?” I say, a mouthful of the dessert. What the fuck was this nigga saying? It was that good. It was better than ‘that’ good. It was fucking delicious. I was like, actually having an orgasm.
Okay, that may have been a bit too far, but this so fucking good, imma die. “You are fucking tripping.” I say, shaking my head and eating some more, letting a quiet moan slip past my lips. Maybe I really was having little mini orgasms while eating this. But I couldn’t help it, like I really did this shit.
“Can you at least stop moaning?” He asks, making me roll my eyes.
“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?” I say, putting the spoon down. He could tell by the look on my face that I was challenging him. I didn’t know why I was challenging him, but I was. And I had a feeling this was going to go one of two ways.
One, he was going to flirt it up, saying something that will make me uncomfortable in turn and we will continue to go back and forth. That builds up sexual tension, and I’ll be damned.
Or two, he was going to shake his head and say something dismissive or something to change the topic, and I am hoping he does this.
We do not need sexual tension. I don’t need sexual tension with anyone. Like, I just need to focus on my career.
Laurent shakes his head, chuckling and making me internally sighs in relief. He’s going route two. “You not ready.”
Just shut up, Nova Angelina Delana. Just shut up and don’t say anything else. Just shut the fuck up and continue to eat this bomb ass oreo skillet brownie shit. Shut up.
“Ready for what?” I say, looking up and down. “Honey, you are skin and bones. You probably wouldn’t be able to lift me up for shit.”
“Really?” He asks, challenging me.
Shut the fuck up.
“Really.” I say, crossing my arms.
“So you like guys that can pick you up.” He says, getting up. I stay seated to keep my ground. I’m not moving or getting intimidated by him. “Yes?”
“I do.” I say, putting my nose up in the air.
Shut the fuck upppppppppppp! Shut up! Shut up!!
Why don’t I listen to myself? Because now this nigga lifting me up like a bag of feathers and has my over his shoulder. Like its just nothing. I wasn’t that light was I?
“Put me down!” I say, squirming. I fucking knew I should’ve just shut the fuck up. I’m dumb as hell. I’ve read too many romance stories and watched too many chick flicks to be this stupid.
Or… maybe my subconscious wanted this. Maybe it wanted to be stupid and look for love within this nigga. I mean, when I first met Larry, I was looking for love, but it turned out that he was a hoe, so I was turned off. So maybe because I couldn’t get Larry, I want Laurent (SUBCONSCIOUSLY), and that’s why I’m being dumb. I mean… it kinda makes sense. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, plus Laurent and Larry look enough alike…
But isn’t that a little trashy of me? Like, it’s messy for me to even want Laurent just because I got turned off by Larry. But were there even feelings for Larry in the first place? I just thought he was cute enough to cuff.
Are there even feelings for Laurent? No, not really. He’d be a cool friend, but I’m not sure if I feel some type of way.
“You okay?” He asks, making me look up at him. I was on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.
“I must’ve blanked out.” I say, frowning a bit. “What were we doing?”
“I not know. I just put you down because carrying you got boring.”
“Oh. Well, I’m gonna go back to eating-” Laurent grabs my arm.
“Please no.” He says, shaking his head.
“Why not? I’m not gonna waste food.”
“Okay, but… no moaning.” He says, making me raise an eyebrow.
Then I smirked. “You were uncomfortable.” I chuckle, pulling my arm away. “I’ll try.” I say shrugging.
“You’re evil.” He says and I chuckle.
“I’m getting you back for that damn mimosa.”
Signs
~~four~~
I start from the flowers up. Like… what was he doing here, holding flowers out for me? Like we were really that close. The only positive interaction we’ve had was when I gave him some sushi. That was it. That was all. Now he’s here, with some white roses to give to me.
“Larry say they your favorite.” Laurent says, pushing them forward a bit.
“Yeah, but… why are you giving me flowers?” I ask, hesitantly taking them.
“You did something nice for me, I do something nice for you.” He says, shrugging. “Plus, is that not what you do to girls who are about to have their first modelling gig? Is like… a congratulations, no?”
“Uhm… yeah, I guess… I mean… Thank you.” I say, looking down at the flowers. Was the world ending? Were we about to die, because never in my wildest dreams (and man, I got some wild ones) did I think Laurent was going to ever buy me flowers.
Maybe I was right! Maybe he does have some sort of secret crush on me and-
“They calling for you, Delana.” Laurent says, tapping my shoulder. “I think is time for you to go.”
“Alright, thanks… again.” I say awkwardly, tucking some of my hair behind my ears. “Uhm, yeah, see you later.”
“Bye.”
Okay, maybe there was no secret crush, but this shit was bizarre. Like, why Laurent?
And why the hell was he still standing here?
“Uh, you wanna stay and wait for me?” I ask. Fuck it. Maybe we could be friends or something. “Get some lunch or something?”
Why was I the one making the first moves? He’s the one who has a crush on me. Why the hell am I asking him out to lunch??? It ain’t right. Alright, whatever. I’m hungry and he’s paying. If he says yes.
“It not matter to me. If it’s what you want.”
“Well, yep. I also want you to pay.” I say, smirking. “Well, I think I should get ready. And put these flowers somewhere.”
“Okay.” He awkwardly says.
~
“I’ve never been here before.” I say, looking at the menu. Brenda’s French Soul Food. “You go here often?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugs. “Its good food.”
“Take any special girls here?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows and making him chuckle. I gotta know if he has a girlfriend so my thoughts of him having a crush on me wouldn’t be true.
“No, I not have a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You don’t have a- Sorry.” I say. “I have a habit of correcting Larry’s bad grammar. You probably won’t like that shit.”
“No. I hate it. And I hate it when you do it to my brother.”
“Well, he hasn’t complained.” I say cheekily, giving him a ‘sweet’ smirk. “So, I won’t stop. But I’ll try to be mindful when it comes to you.”
He smirks as well. “Well, pick what you want.” He says, motioning to my menu.
Why am I here? What am I doing, eating food with Lame Laurent, having a good time? (Low key) enjoying his company? What is going on with the world? What is going on with me???
“Ugh, I want a mimosaaaaaaa.” I groan, looking at the menu. They had such a nice selection of drinks, but most of what I wanted was alcohol.
“You too young.” Laurent says, looking at his menu.
I glare at him, rolling my eyes and looking at the menu again. I knew I was too young.
I put the menu down, having selected what I wanted in my mind. A caesar salad with some sweet watermelon house tea. I’ve never had the tea, but it sounds so fucking good, I’m curious. I want a fucking mimosa, but whatever. I’ll settle with the tea. It sounds good. I love tea anyway.
I’m just trying to appease the side of me that wants to order a mimosa.
“You know what you want?”
“Yessir.” I say, a small smile on my face. “You?”
“Yes ma’am.” He says, mocking my a tiny bit. I roll my eyes a bit, shrugging.
“So, on a scale of one to ten, how good is the food here?” I say, placing my hands on the table. I knew about table etiquette. No elbows. And some shit about using the right spoon and fork and whatnot. I don’t know.
“Ah… an eight.” He says, nodding. “Is very good.”
“Since it’s very good, why isn’t it a ten?”
“Because it’s not my momma’s cooking.” He says, rolling his eyes slightly. “My momma’s cooking is the only ten.”
“That’s sweet.” I say, my smile genuine. “I feel the same way about my mom’s cooking. Nothing is better than her food.”
“I bet my momma can cook better than yours.”
His words wipe the smile off of my face and I turn to look at him. “Laurent.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’ve never had your mother’s cooking and you’ve never had mine but… don’t set your mom up for failure.”
“Tsk, my maman not fail, but we let this go.” He says, sucking his teeth. “I bet I cook better than you though.”
“No the fuck you don’t.” I say, narrowing my eyes. “There is no way in hell.”
“Bet.”
“You better watch yourself, Laurent. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Whoever cook better take the other out for breakfast. They have to pick them up, take them wherever they wanna go.” He says, holding out his hand. “And pay for everything.”
I grit my teeth. “Fine.” I say, shaking his hand. “Just give me a time and place to cook and I’ll be prepared to beat your ass.”
“You so sure. We have Larry taste test.”
“No, Larry’s probably biased as fuck and will pick your cooking. Or you might bribe him.” I say, letting go and plopping back down in my seat. No way in hell this nigga cooks better than me. He out his damn mind.
“Fine, you bring someone. Your person and Larry will taste test.”
“Fine.” I say, putting my nose into the air. “And I shall win.”
“Sure.” He says, shrugging. “You say that now, but I know you lie.”
“What the fuck ever!” I say loudly. “There is no way-”
“Are you two ready to order your drinks?” A waiter asks, making me look up and shut up. I must’ve looked dumb as hell.
“Yes.” I say with a smile. “I’d like to have a Sweet Watermelon House Tea.”
“And I’m going to have a mimosa.”
I cut my eyes to him, sending him a glare. This fucking whore!
Signs
~~three~~
It’s weird how the more you want to avoid someone, the more they show up. I wanted to stay away from Larry by any means necessary, but he always seemed to be around with that damn attitude having, just as big bodied twin of his who always feels like he gotta mug me because his brother flirts with me. If he didn’t want his brother on my dick (nonexistent) then maybe he should keep that dog on a leash.
My nuts (nonexistent) need to breathe anyway. So Laurent would just be doing my ass a favor. My cute ass.
But anyway, that nigga is everywhere. Like, I can’t go anywhere, really. He’s so clingy and we not even together, like how does that happen? How Sway? I need the answers, any answers.
“Lana!”
I suck my teeth a bit, smiling. “Hey Larry.” I say, turning to face him. It was cheerful ass Larry and broody ass Laurent.
You know, despite Larry being a pain, he wasn’t that bad. I enjoyed him a little. He was funny and adorable, and that was pretty chill.
Don’t expect me to compliment that nigga Laurent. Fuck that nigga.
He always mean mugging a cute nigga, and I don’t like that. Like, honestly? What the hell did I do to him? What is it?
The only reason I could really think about right now is some crazy dramatic shit like: he likes me, but Larry’s in the way and he’s jealous so he takes it out on me because he cares about his brother too much.
Hmm… That is a possibility ain’t it? Probably not. I can’t really see Laurent liking anyone. He seems to… bitchy. Ah well, I don’t care. I didn’t have to be friends with Laurent. I didn’t have to be friends with Larry, honestly. I just tolerate Larry because sometimes he can be adorable.
Larry sits next to me, giving me a quick side hug before pulling away and glancing at his brother, who had sat down across from us.
“Hi Larry.” I say to him, giving him a soft smile.
“Hi Lana, how you lunch?” He asks me, looking down at my sushi. There’s this bomb ass sushi restaurant in the plaza next to this building and goodness gracious.
“Pretty good.” I say, nodding, only to smack his hand away. “No! Do not!” I say, glaring at him.
“Please Lana? I not eat yet and I so hungry.”
“First, Larry, ‘I haven’t eaten yet and I’m so hungry,’ second, you using your puppy dog eyes aren’t working on me, and- No!” I smack another lightskin hand away from my sushi, giving Laurent a shucked look. “Really?”
“I’m hungry.” He shrugs. He’s gonna try and eat my fucking food then act like a bitch to me? No! Fuck all of that.
“Why don’t you guys take this time to go get some actual food.”
“Too much work.” Larry groans, placing his head on my shoulder. Laurent rolls his eyes and places his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands.
“We rather eat what’s here for us.” Laurent says, making my frown deeper.
“”This isn’t here for you. This is my sushi!” I say. “And next time I have to smack your hand outta the way Larry, Imma stab it with a chopstick.” I say, slapping Larry’s hand away from the food.
“Please, just one piece!” Larry begs, rubbing his stomach. “One piece, Lana.”
“No.”
“Please?? Lau, ask her!”
“The answer is still no. Whether you ask me or he does.” I say, crossing my arms. Larry leans on me, groaning.
“Delanaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” He groans, making me sigh.
“Larry-”
“Delanaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, pleaseeeeeeee.”
“Okay! Fine.” I huff. Larry quickly gets up, a wide smile on his face as he takes some sushi, eating it fast as if I was going to change my mind and take it away. I push the platter toward Laurent, letting him take some as well. I could be an asshole and say fuck him, but that’d be mean. And I’m not that mean.
“Thank you.” Laurent says before taking some.
“Merci beaucoup!” Larry says, his mouth full.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Larry.” I say to him, taking the platter from Laurent.
“Sorry.” He says, swallowing and grabbing some of my drink. I watch in shock as he drinks some of my strawberry lemonade.
“Give niggas an inch and they take a mile.” I mutter, grinding my teeth. Larry offers the drink to Laurent, who takes it with a small smirk, drinking some for himself.
Stingy ass niggas, I swear!!!! I can’t have nothing!
“That was so good.” Larry says, shaking his head. “Thank you Lana.” He says, a sweet smile on his face. I keep my frown on, trying not to let Larry’s smile affect me.
But eventually it got to me and broke my frown, making me sigh. “No problem Larry.” I say, pushing his head playfully.
These niggas weren’t too bad. Even Laurent, who had watched my interaction with Larry with a smile. A tiny one, but it was there. And I kind of stared, but then he caught me, so my ass looked away.
He doesn’t look broody and bitchy when he smiles, and that’s cool or whatever. I don’t know. Whatever.
~
“Would you want a gig, Delana?”
“Huh?” I ask, turning to face Miss Destiny. I don’t think I heard her right. What did she just say?
“Would you like to have a modelling gig, Delana?” She repeats, a small smile on her face. Like she knew my dream all along. She was like a fairy. My fairy godmother or something, making my wishes and dreams come true.
“U-uh, y-yes, I-I-I-” I stammered, making my swallow and take a deep breath. “Yes. I would love a modelling gig, Miss Destiny.” I nod, trying not to cry. I thought I was going to have to work my ass off, and here she was, playing God with my life. She’s perfection.
“Good, a model is sick, and they need someone quickly.” She says, fixing her glasses. “I thought of you immediately.”
“W-why?”
“Because you’re a hard worker, you’re beautiful and I know you won’t disappoint.” She says with a smile and I almost faint.
“Seriously? Me?”
“Yes, you. Now here.” She holds out a piece of paper. “This is the information. It’s tomorrow. When you get there, they’ll already know who you are.”
“What?”
“They will know that I sent you. I sent them a picture and they approved, just like I knew they would.” She shakes the paper a bit, bringing my attention back to it. “Now take this and keep it safe. It’ll be in this building. You won’t have to dress a certain way, they will have clothes for you already.”
“H-how do they know my sizes?”
“Hon, this wasn’t a one day thing. I’ve been talking to them about you for a while. Just as I know your sizes, as do they.”
“You know my sizes?” That’s some weird shit, how???
“Anyway, Delana, All you have to do is bring yourself at this time, eleven thirty, and everything will be set. And if they treat you in anyway you don’t like, tell me.”
“U-uhm-”
“Tell me Delana, that part is serious. Sometimes, photographers feel as if you owe them something and they may try to take advantage of you. Just say no. There will be someone to watch over you, but just in case. Tell me if anything happens, if they’re rude to you or anything, okay?”
“Yes Miss Destiny.” I nod. She really was like my fairy godmother.
“Okay, good. I’ll be looking forward to seeing your very first photos, Delana. It’ll be a great start to your portfolio.”
“Thank you for this opportunity, Miss Destiny.”
“No problem.” She says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You deserve it.”
“Thank you.” I say, tearing up a bit.
She was so perfect.
When do u plan on posting the other parts ?
other parts? like the other chapters? I really don’t know. i’m writing another story rn, so i mean it’s hard, plus i’m like… three months away from graduation, so them grades coming first lol. i’ll try to be as consistent as possible though.
Signs
~~two~~
“Hi”
I look up and there he is. The guy who I thought was gonna live happily ever after with, which is kinda weird to say, knowing absolutely nothing about him. He was just cute as fuck, I couldn’t help it.
“Oh, hey.” I say, giving him a small smile. Don’t wanna seem too thirsty. Gotta be chill. Chill as fuck.
“How are you?” He asks, making himself at home at the table I was sitting at. It was my lunch break, so you know I was eating. Skipping meals won’t ever be my thing. I love food.
“I’m good. What about you?”
“Good.” He says, making me nod.
“That’s good.” I say, launching us in a silence I felt was kinda awkward. Actually, no, hella awkward.
“So, you Destiny new intern?” He asks, curiosity and interest shining in his eyes. That’s cute as hell. “What you name?”
“I’m No- Delana. And yes, I work for Miss Destiny.”
Telling him my ‘real’ name would be complicated.
My whole name was Nova Angelina Delana Moore. All of those are first names according to my mother, which is why I just go by Delana.
School was a pain in the ass because I had to constantly, constantly tell teachers to call me by Delana and not Nova, like everyone else does. But sometimes I wanna just say fuck it and be a jerk and switch names. So when everyone calls me Delana, I would be like ‘nah b, it’s Angelina/Nova’ and fuck they whole day up.
“I Larry.” He says, reaching out for my hand.
I try my hardest not to groan. He would be the company hoe, (possibly) the same one Miss Destiny told me not to be around/ And he would be targeting me, ole loser nigga.
Now I feel sick and stupid, but I still smile and reach to shake his hand. Except… this shit wasn’t a handshake. This nigga hoe brings my hand to his lips, kissing it gently, making me frown.
Naaaaaah nigga, I ain’t these other girls. He ain’t catching me, no sir.
“Uhm… this is kind of unprofessional.” I say, pulling my hand away.
You may be cute, you big bodied nigga, but you aren’t doing anything like that to me. Nope, never. Not I. I will never lose my job. I need this job, thank you very much.
“I sorry. I just not know how to act around such a pretty girl.”
“So I’ve heard.” I say, raising an eyebrow. When the hell is my break over? I had to go before he get really bold or some shit. “Well, I think my break is about finished, so I’ll be seeing you, Larry. Nice to meet you.” I say, gathering my shit and getting up.
“Nice to meet you too, Delana.” He says, getting up as well. I nod at him before walking past him. He starts walking as well, and at first I thought he was following me only because the exit I went out of was the closest.
But it was like he was following me everywhere else too…
“Are you going to see Miss Destiny?” I ask, turning to face him as we walk.
“Yes, my brother is with her.”
“Oh, okay.” I say, nodding. I was going to see her as well. She’s… my boss. I have to see her. Now I’m walking with this nigga. Like… he changed his whole ass pace to keep up with me and walk beside me. We’re walking together and I don’t know how to feel! And it’s only because he’s the hoe. Like, what would Miss Destiny think? She’ll think he got me and I promised her he wouldn’t.
And he’s not. I’m not one of those girls. He can’t get to me.
“Why you call her Miss? Why not just call her Destiny?”
“Because it’s too casual. I like to keep a level of professionalism with her and she understands and respects that.” I say, smiling. “She’s the best.”
“Yes, she very great. She help me and my brother a lot. She see us dance while she vacation in Paris, where we from, and she took us under her wing and help us make money off dance. She help us dream.”
“Our.”
“Huh?”
“You’re talking about the dream you and your brother have right?” I ask, looking up at him.
Ole tall ass bitch.
“Yes.”
“So it would be our. ‘She helped our dream.’” I say. “Another way to say it would be ‘She helped us with our dream.’”
“Sorry. My english still not good, but it get more better. My brother much better than me.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. And it’s just ‘better’, not ‘more better.’”
“Okay, thank you.” He says, nodding. I nod as well, only because we’ve reached Miss Destiny’s modelling division (she got a whole fucking division, the biggest one too! goals as fuck). He opens the door, letting me go first.
For the company hoe, he got manners. I’m proud. He should get one of those gold star stickers for good behavior.
“Oh, hello Delana.” Miss Destiny says, flitting around, gathering things.
“Hey Miss Destiny.” I say, watching her with an amused smile. One thing I learned about her was that although she’s very calm and cool, she’s disorganized as hell. Most people see her and think she’s the perfect businesswoman, but sometimes shit could get crazy.
It’s fucking great.
“What are you looking for?”
“Uhh.” She says, looking around. “A pen. I need to write down the time Laurent and Larry need to be in here so they won’t forget.”
“We not gon forget, Destiny.” Larry says from behind me.
“Funny, Laurent told me the same thing and I didn’t believe it.” She says, stopping and looking at Larry. She pauses as if she was thinking. “And I still don’t believe it.”
“You so mean, Destiny.” Larry whines, making me chuckle. “But speaking of my twin-”
“He’s in my office.”
“He never make it out that mess.” Larry says dramatically. “Now I not a twin no more.”
“Shush child.” Miss Destiny says, waving her hand at him as if she was swatting him away. Like a fly. “I’ll tell him to come out.”
I liked their dynamic. It was playful and cool.
“Thank you Destiny.” Larry says sweetly, making Miss Destiny smile and shake her head.
Then she leaves us alone. I wonder if she did that on purpose.
Was she testing me? That’s hella cruel, but I won’t fail. I’m not easy at all. He’s not getting me.
“So, why you work here?” He asks, making me turn and look.
“Well, I want to be a model, so I thought it’d be a great experience working under Miss Destiny.” I say, shrugging. “She’s basically what I see myself doing. She’s the embodiment of what I want my life to be.”
Miss Destiny was a model in her younger years, a fierce one at that. Watching older videos of her walking down the runway were inspiring, so when this internship came up, I prayed for it. To work under someone like her… Jesus it’s great.
“I feel it. She manage me and my brother.” He says. “We twin dancers. We dance for so many great people, mainly Beyonce now. She so great to work with.”
“Damn. Beyonce?” I ask him, low key starstruck.
It’s not everyday you stand next to a nigga who danced for Beyonce.
“Yup, Beyonce.” He says, nodding. He sounded a bit smug.
“So does that mean you know Kimberly Gibson?” I ask, my smile getting wider. “Bruh, she was my favorite dancer from the On the Run tour. All that hair… oh my gawd.”
“Yeah, I know her…”
“She was the only dancer I was paying attention to when I went to see the tour. And when I wasn’t watching the Queen.” I laugh. Kill this nigga pride.
“You went to see the tour?”
“Yup. On two different dates when she came to San Francisco.” I say, smiling.
“You not recognize me or nothing?”
I frown. “Nope. Wasn’t really paying attention to you bro. My bad.” I say, patting his shoulder.
“Brother.” A deep voice says. Well, a voice that sounded like Larry’s but was deeper.
The two of us turn, and I study his face. This must’ve been Laurent. Identical twins, but there were differences there. Laurent looked more… diva-ish. More… grown. Like… his face was more dramatic, are you getting what I’m trying to say? Larry had a more childish looking face, but they still had some chiseled ass faces, it’s just Laurent’s was more… chiseled.
Whatever, fuck it lol. They looked like twins but they were different. Fuck an explanation.
“Who she?” He asks, rudely, making me frown.
“Manners, Laurent.” Miss Destiny says, slapping the back of his head. I loved this dynamic. “She is Delana Moore, my new assistant/intern.”
“Oh.” Laurent says, rubbing the back of his head. “Hello.”
“Hi.” I say with just as much hostility in my voice that he held in his. He wanna be Sour Sally, well so could I. I could also be Attitude Annie, Bitchy Bianca, Crazy Cathy and any other names you could think of.
I could be all those hoes. Try me if you want to.
“We leaving?” Larry asks, looking at Laurent. “You get the time for the photoshoot?”
“Yes, Miss Destiny give it to me.” Laurent says. “We fine.”
“Okai. Let's go.” Larry says, a small smile on his face. Laurent nods, starting to walk. Larry gives me a smile. “Bye bye, Lana.”
Lana? “Bye.” I say, a slight frown on my face.
Who the hell is this nigga calling Lana? We ain’t like that.
Have u ever considered putting more "smut" in your fics, just more heat to it??
You know… the reason i never put any dirty stuff in my fics is because i couldn’t write it for the life of me and i blamed that on lack of experience. But now that things have changed, it has crossed my mind a couple times, especially for signs. So we’ll just see what’s going on, you know? I think things might get a little juicy lmao.
Signs
~~one~~
You know, the worst thing in the world is bumping into a big bodied nigga with an armful of books.
So these books are all on the ground and my face kinda hurts because this big bodied bitch got a strong ass chest. Like, I got places to be that requires me to have both a cute face and these books. Internship is no fucking joke. I’m lucky that I’m actually kinda cute because if not, I probably wouldn’t have gotten this paid internship.
Well, that’s why my salty ass cousin tells me. She applied for this internship (paid) as well, and guess which bitch came out on top?
Me. A real ass nigga.
Which is great, because I begged the gods for this job.
And now I’m getting face to chest bumped by some tall ass nigga and these books are on the ground.
Fantastic. This shit was not in the job description.
“I so sorry.” The big bodied nigga says, so I look up at him, into his eyes, and I wasn’t that mad anymore because he was cute.
Still a strong chest having, big bodied ass bitch, but he was cute as hell. And he was foreign with an adorable accent.
“It’s okay.” I tell him with a cute smile. I bend to get the books because despite his cuteness and whatnot, these shits were important.
“You need help?” He asks me, making me look up.
“Well, since you’re offering, sure.” I say, making him chuckle and bend down to help. Yup, I wasn’t too good to ask for help. And besides, at the rate we were going, we’re gonna reach for the same book, our fingertips are gonna brush and we’ll feel fireworks/tingles (whatever came first, it don’t matter to be honest), he’ll ask for my name, I’ll ask for him and we’ll live happily ever after.
Yes that was a run on sentence, who cares, it happens in the movies. And it’s finally my turn.
“Here you go.” He says, handing me the last book. Okay, we didn’t do none of that shit. Maybe he’ll ask for my name. That would be a start. Shit, who knows!
“Thanks.” I say, giving him a smile (despite my shit mood) and getting up. I make sure I have all the books secured in my arms and he gets up as well, the two of us making eye contact.
I give him a slightly wider smile, making him smile as well and prepare to walk off.
And that means as I started to walk off, so did he. In the opposite way. Without asking for my damn name or telling me his.
This is some bullshit I swear! Movies be lying like a bitch.
I sigh, rolling my eyes and walking off. Oh well. Maybe it wasn’t time for my happily ever after. I mean, I’m only eighteen.
I’m not even old enough to buy alcohol and what’s a happily ever after without a drink or two?
I should probably get my career in order first. I was here interning because I wanted to be a model. And this right here be a modelling agency. Well, a management team. Meaning they manage singers, models, everything. It’s pretty damn cool.
But, as I was saying, I want to model, then I’m going to retire from modelling and become a manager to some young aspiring girl with dreams like mine. Or similar to mine. Just like my Sifu, Destiny Woods. Or Miss Destiny as I like to call her.
Well, she’s my boss, not really my Sifu.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here with the books, Delana.”
“Yeah, sorry it took so long.” I say to her. She’s my boss, but just about anyone could ask me to do or get them something and I’d have to do it.
I’d feel like a slave, but I’m getting paid, so I… I can’t. Plus this shit is actually fun. Miss Destiny is like hella cool. The money is good too. If I don’t make it into the modelling business, I would be an intern for the rest of my life.
I wonder if you can actually do that. That wouldn’t be too bad.
“I’m just glad you’re here with them. Larry just left here and I was worried you would bump into him.”
“What? This Larry dude some type of kidnapper or rapist?” Would they allow someone like that to work here?
“It’s not rape, dear. These girls go willingly. He’s a sweet talker and ends up leaving these girls in the dust, all alone. Heartless little boy, I swear.” Miss Destiny says, shaking her head and flipping through the books. “Sweet kid though.”
“Oh…” I say, not knowing what else to say. Miss Destiny was actually the only person I knew here, so…
“I had to fire at least seven girls before you because they couldn’t keep their affair with Larry and told the whole building. Plus, they seem to think that this is the place to be airing out dirty laundry. Very unprofessional.”
“Dang…” Mental note, stay away from whoever Larry is.
“I hope I don’t have to go through that again.” Miss Destiny says, peering up at me through her glasses. She didn’t have to look up at me because I knew what the fuck she meant, but whatever.
“You won’t.” I tell her with confidence, looking back at her. No matter what, I ain’t going anywhere near Larry. Fuck all that. I need and want this job, and I refuse to be black listed in the modelling world.
“Good, because I really do like you Delana. You remind me of myself when I was younger.”
“Thank you Miss Destiny.” Those are the words I wanna say to a young girl when I’m older and in Miss Destiny’s position. Those words put a big ass smile on my face.
Those words actually made me feel better about myself, especially hearing them from someone as prestigious as Miss Destiny. It made it easier for me to believe that one day, I will be a model and then after that, I will become a manager.
That’s really my fucking dream, and it’s really gonna come true. That’s fucking crazy.
Wow….my daughters name is Delana….I rarely here others with that name😀
Awwww! My little cousin’s name is Delana and thats kinda where I got the inspiration from. I really love that name lol.
Signs
~~one~~
You know, the worst thing in the world is bumping into a big bodied nigga with an armful of books.
So these books are all on the ground and my face kinda hurts because this big bodied bitch got a strong ass chest. Like, I got places to be that requires me to have both a cute face and these books. Internship is no fucking joke. I’m lucky that I’m actually kinda cute because if not, I probably wouldn’t have gotten this paid internship.
Well, that’s why my salty ass cousin tells me. She applied for this internship (paid) as well, and guess which bitch came out on top?
Me. A real ass nigga.
Which is great, because I begged the gods for this job.
And now I’m getting face to chest bumped by some tall ass nigga and these books are on the ground.
Fantastic. This shit was not in the job description.
“I so sorry.” The big bodied nigga says, so I look up at him, into his eyes, and I wasn’t that mad anymore because he was cute.
Still a strong chest having, big bodied ass bitch, but he was cute as hell. And he was foreign with an adorable accent.
“It’s okay.” I tell him with a cute smile. I bend to get the books because despite his cuteness and whatnot, these shits were important.
“You need help?” He asks me, making me look up.
“Well, since you’re offering, sure.” I say, making him chuckle and bend down to help. Yup, I wasn’t too good to ask for help. And besides, at the rate we were going, we’re gonna reach for the same book, our fingertips are gonna brush and we’ll feel fireworks/tingles (whatever came first, it don’t matter to be honest), he’ll ask for my name, I’ll ask for him and we’ll live happily ever after.
Yes that was a run on sentence, who cares, it happens in the movies. And it’s finally my turn.
“Here you go.” He says, handing me the last book. Okay, we didn’t do none of that shit. Maybe he’ll ask for my name. That would be a start. Shit, who knows!
“Thanks.” I say, giving him a smile (despite my shit mood) and getting up. I make sure I have all the books secured in my arms and he gets up as well, the two of us making eye contact.
I give him a slightly wider smile, making him smile as well and prepare to walk off.
And that means as I started to walk off, so did he. In the opposite way. Without asking for my damn name or telling me his.
This is some bullshit I swear! Movies be lying like a bitch.
I sigh, rolling my eyes and walking off. Oh well. Maybe it wasn’t time for my happily ever after. I mean, I’m only eighteen.
I’m not even old enough to buy alcohol and what’s a happily ever after without a drink or two?
I should probably get my career in order first. I was here interning because I wanted to be a model. And this right here be a modelling agency. Well, a management team. Meaning they manage singers, models, everything. It’s pretty damn cool.
But, as I was saying, I want to model, then I’m going to retire from modelling and become a manager to some young aspiring girl with dreams like mine. Or similar to mine. Just like my Sifu, Destiny Woods. Or Miss Destiny as I like to call her.
Well, she’s my boss, not really my Sifu.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here with the books, Delana.”
“Yeah, sorry it took so long.” I say to her. She’s my boss, but just about anyone could ask me to do or get them something and I’d have to do it.
I’d feel like a slave, but I’m getting paid, so I… I can’t. Plus this shit is actually fun. Miss Destiny is like hella cool. The money is good too. If I don’t make it into the modelling business, I would be an intern for the rest of my life.
I wonder if you can actually do that. That wouldn’t be too bad.
“I’m just glad you’re here with them. Larry just left here and I was worried you would bump into him.”
“What? This Larry dude some type of kidnapper or rapist?” Would they allow someone like that to work here?
“It’s not rape, dear. These girls go willingly. He’s a sweet talker and ends up leaving these girls in the dust, all alone. Heartless little boy, I swear.” Miss Destiny says, shaking her head and flipping through the books. “Sweet kid though.”
“Oh…” I say, not knowing what else to say. Miss Destiny was actually the only person I knew here, so…
“I had to fire at least seven girls before you because they couldn’t keep their affair with Larry and told the whole building. Plus, they seem to think that this is the place to be airing out dirty laundry. Very unprofessional.”
“Dang…” Mental note, stay away from whoever Larry is.
“I hope I don’t have to go through that again.” Miss Destiny says, peering up at me through her glasses. She didn’t have to look up at me because I knew what the fuck she meant, but whatever.
“You won’t.” I tell her with confidence, looking back at her. No matter what, I ain’t going anywhere near Larry. Fuck all that. I need and want this job, and I refuse to be black listed in the modelling world.
“Good, because I really do like you Delana. You remind me of myself when I was younger.”
“Thank you Miss Destiny.” Those are the words I wanna say to a young girl when I’m older and in Miss Destiny’s position. Those words put a big ass smile on my face.
Those words actually made me feel better about myself, especially hearing them from someone as prestigious as Miss Destiny. It made it easier for me to believe that one day, I will be a model and then after that, I will become a manager.
That’s really my fucking dream, and it’s really gonna come true. That’s fucking crazy.
soooooo hi
anyone checking for me? no? okay.
I want to write something so bad.
Poetic Justice
Epilogue
“I hate that you’re making me do this.”
“I want your full name baby. No Nett or Anni. I want it all.”
“I know.” She huffs, preparing her tattoo gun. “Why’d you wait this long to get this?”
“This special to me. I want to wait until you able to do it.”
“Well, the nigga that did your sleeve could’ve done it just as well, if not better.”
“But it not mean a damn thing compared to you doing it.” He says, looking at her. “I want you to put your name on me because I love you, not the nigga that do this shit.” He says, looking at the tattoo sleeve. “I am in love with you.”
“I’m in love you you too, baby.” Anni says, smiling softly at him.
“So you gonna do it or-”
“Yeah, I guess I can-”
“Momma!”
“Yes, Jay?” Anni asks, turning to look at her first born son with a raised eyebrow.
Sometimes, when she looked at him, she’d see him as that adorable little infant she had given birth to, not an eleven year old boy that was already in sixth grade. He was growing up so fast. Too fast.
And every time she thought like that, she felt like her mother, who was all about reminiscing and showing baby pictures of damn near everyone.
“When you’re done with dad’s tattoo, can I have one?”
“Nope.” Anni says, popping the p and turning to her supplies. “When you’re older, yeah, but not now.”
“But momma, look at-”
“Yes, I know. His sleeve is fantastic. Very well done.” Anni says absent mindedly, making sure she had everything. This tattoo wouldn’t be her first, but she was still nervous.
“But you know momma does better.” Larry says, grabbing Jayden and pulling him in close, making the boy giggle. “So when you get your first tattoo, it has to be from her.”
“But not now, Jay.” Anni says, looking up. “When you are eighteen, I’ll give you any tattoo you want.”
“So now give me any tattoo I want, Nettie. You’re beautiful name, Annette Leticia Bourgeois.”
“Isn’t that a bit drastic, Larry?” Anni asks, feeling nervous again. What if she messed up? She wouldn’t want to permanently fuck up Larry’s skin. She loved his skin. “What if you have some affair with a young hot secretary and-”
“Annette, don’t fucking play with me.” He says, making Jayden gasp. “Excuse my language Jayden.” Depsite the words, Anni still reached over and hit him.
“You hitting me, but I outta beat yo ass for thinking stupid shit.” He mutters, giving her a slight glare and making her roll her eyes. She already knew what was coming. A lecture.
“Jayden, go upstairs, okay baby?” Anni says, looking over at him and he nods, scrambling away.
He could already tell the two of them were going to ‘argue’. He couldn’t really call them arguments because the ‘arguments’ are almost always filled with words of love, reassurance and kisses, but he didn’t know what else to call them.
Maybe lectures of love. Who knows. He was glad that they weren’t full on arguments like other parents. The two of them could be throwing things at each other, yelling at the top of their lungs, bringing him into it, and destructive things like that. He’s thankful he got this type of family instead.
“Annette-”
“Larry, it was a joke-”
“You know I don’t love anyone else. I can never love anyone else-”
“Larry, I know that-”
“Then why you say that?”
“It was a joke-”
“No it wasn’t.” He says, crossing his arms. “You seem to forget that I know you better than I know myself.”
Anni crosses her arms and looks away, making him sigh.
“Annette Leticia Bourgeois, I think I remember telling you and only you, in that beautiful, long white wedding dress you wore while staring at me teary eyed at the altar, ‘I do’ on the perfect date of A-”
“I know, Larry, I know.” Anni says, unable to keep a small smile off her face. “I’m pretty sure I was there, standing in that long white dress and almost unbearable heels.”
“And since you were there, I think that proves I love you and only you with all my heart. There are no other girls. No secretaries, no one but you. I am so very much in love with you.”
“I know, and you show it Larry, but I’ve seen the way those girls look at you and Lau. They see two devilishly handsome men in suits and can’t handle themselves.”
“You can’t handle yourself when I’m in a suit either, so what the problem?”
“Larry!” She groans, reaching out to hit him, but he leans back and catches her hand, laughing.
“Okay, baby, you know I’m joking.” He says, stroking his thumb over her hand. “And I see how men look at you all the time and you don’t know how bad I want to drag them to an alley and just get rid of them. But I don’t do that, and I don’t get insecure because I know that you want me only. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then, baby.” He says, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. “Now, I want your name right here.” He says, showing her the inside of his left wrist. “Right on the vein baby.”
“That sounds painful, Larry.”
“Loving you is painful, but you worth it. And so is this, so chop chop.” He says, letting go of her and clapping his hands. “Let’s get to it. You can do it however you want, I just want your whole name.”
“Jackson or Bourgeois?” She asks, a small smirk on her face. He turns to her, giving her an expressionless look and she laughs. “Jackson it-”
“You better not put Jackson. We married, you put Bourgeois.” He says. “Right here.” He says, pointing at his wrists. “No more games, Annette.”
“Why here? Why not on your back or-”
“It have the same purpose as our wedding ring. It gon be apart of the arm- the vein, that attached to my heart. So not only is your ring attached to my heart, but your name is too, showing the world that you own me.”
“Larry-”
“And I’m expecting the same shit, right on your arm, the same place.” He says with a slight attitude, not noticing her teary eyes.
“Of course baby.”