I walked out of my room for what felt like the thousandth time in the span of 2 hours, and the hallway to the front door had bags piled up as if I was moving out. My dad walks into the house, noticing the bags just sitting there. He looks at me while I have yet another bag in my hands, waiting to be piled on top of the others.
“What is all of this doing here?” He asked, steeping over the mountain of bags.
“The party is tonight,” I answered, placing the bag on top of the others. “I have to bring all this shit to Roe’s place.
“All of this for a party?” my dad repeated. “What happened to plugging a speaker to your phone and playing Spotify?”
“This isn’t the 2020s, dad,” I responded, rolling my eyes. “Plus, this is a party that both Roe and I are throwing, so it has to be epic.” He doesn’t say anything back to me, which I’m glad for considering I have 500 things that need to be done today. “Dani and Tanner are picking me up, I’ll keep you guys posted about what’s going on tonight–“
“Hey,” My dad calls out before I’m able to open the front door. I looked behind me, wondering what else he needed me to tell him about tonight. “Don’t get into any trouble tonight.”
“Why would you even put that bad energy in the air?” I asked, annoyed that he would think I’d do something like that.
“I’m just saying it to say it, Micah,” his voice deepened as he spoke. “I don’t need to get any phone calls about something that happened at your party.” I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bags from the floor. It didn’t bother me that he would automatically assume something bad would happen; I mean, I am literally my parents’ problem child; they always have to worry about what I do.
“Whatever,” I simply said, beginning to walk out of the house. “I gotta go.”
“Have fun,” my dad shouts from across the room. “And be careful.” I scoffed underneath my breath. It’s literally a party that no one will probably show up to because it’s for an art project; I’ll be fine.
It wasn’t long after that Tanner and Dani picked me up from my place. Tanner helped out all the bags in the trunk as I got into the backseat. Dani sat in the passenger’s seat; her feet propped up on the dashboard, scrolling through her phone.
“Thanks for helping, dude,” I said to Dani as I closed the car door. Tanner entered through the driver’s side.
“You had three little ass bags; Tanner was just being nice helping you out with your shit,” Dani turned around to face me and say. I rolled my eyes, putting on my seatbelt as I took out my phone. I unlocked my screen thinking that maybe Rosie messaged me about setting up for the party or some shit. I haven’t heard from this girl all day, which was getting me anxious. Why would she just disappear the day of the damn party?
“Rosie knows that we’re on our way to her place?” Tanner asked, looking at me through the rear view mirror as he drove. I sighed, putting my phone down on my lap.
“She hasn’t messaged me back all day,” I admitted, looking out the window. “Like, this was her idea; the least she can do is tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“Maybe she just feels weird about that whole magazine thing,” Tanner said. “Maybe she doesn’t know how to approach you now after that.” I looked at Tanner, not responding to his assumptions. The fact of the matter is that yeah, I should’ve spoke to Rosie about the damn magazine cover. I should have been honest and brought it to her attention. But, Rosie and I had been in such a good place in our friendship these last couple of weeks, and this would’ve scared her away yet again. I couldn’t handle Rosie leaving again or hating my guys again; she has become such an important part of my daily routine; plus, this was one stupid magazine cover that is now considered old news at this point.
At the red light, Tanner turned around from his seat to look at me as if he was waiting for me to answer. “Micah?”
“What?” I simply asked.
“Did you talk to Rosie about the magazine?” Tanner asked.
“Wait, what magazine?” Dani turned around and asked, intervening in the conversation.
“Nothing,” I tried to quickly dismiss, but Tanner had other plans.
“Micah and I found a magazine cover from a couple of weeks ago of him and Rosie out on what seemed to be a date,” he began to explain.
“It wasn’t a date,” I quickly corrected Tanner. “We were literally talking about our project–“
“But the media is making it seem like he’s now moved on with another woman,” Tanner continued to explain. Dani didn’t understand the severity of the situation; if she did, she would’ve flipped the fuck out at this point. “Especially after being seen with Kalia a couple of months ago when she was here.”
“Why does the media care about Micah and who he’s dating,” Dani asked. “No offense to you, Micah.”
“They care about Rosie,” Tanner emphasized before looking at me. “Bro, you have to tell Dani.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Dani was growing annoyed at us. “Somebody better fucking tell me!” Tanner looked at me, waiting for me to say something. I sighed, adjusting in my seat.
“Rosie has ties to the Jones family,” I finally admitted. “The family that created Joneson.”
“That billionaire family?” Dani asked. “How does she know them?” I bit my tongue, not wanting to say anything. Thankfully, my phone began to ring in my lap. I turned it over; it was Rosie.
“Roe,” I answered the phone. Both Tanner and Dani turn back forward in their seats. “Where the fuck have you been all day? I got the shit and on my way to your place now–“
“I had shit to do,” Rosie interrupted. “Relax, it’s 2 in the afternoon; the party doesn’t start until 8 tonight.” She had a point.
“Well, are you home, now?” I asked, a bit annoyed.
“Yeah, stop by with the party shit,” Rosie said before hanging up the phone. I looked at the black screen of my phone. What the fuck is her problem?
…
I knocked on the door of Rosie’s apartment, which took her forever to answer. When she finally did, I had let out a sigh of relief.
“Well for fuck’s sake, Roe,” I began to say as I got the bags into her place. “You could’ve met me downstairs and offered some help.”
“You could’ve called me before just showing up at my house,” Rosie spat back, walking away from me. Rosie was acting really weird today and it was pissing me off since today was the actual day of the fucking party.
“Yo, you good?” I finally asked, wanting an answer. “You do know that we have a ton of shit to do, and you being pissy over whatever it is that got you pissed off isn’t helping.” Rosie power walked across the room and grabbed something from her kitchen counter. She turned around and slammed it against the table. It’s the fucking magazine.
“So, you were just gonna come over, throw this party, and not tell me that this existed in the world?” Rosie asked.
“It takes two to tango, sweetie,” I scoffed, mimicking her gesture. “You’re the one that actually bought the damn thing.” Rosie yanked the magazine away from the table, throwing it now toward her bed.
“Do you know how bad this looks, Micah?” Rosie asked in a panic. “For fuck’s sake, do you know what Prescott would say if he found out?” Prescott. The one thing that made my friendship with Rosie work these last couple of weeks was because there was no mention, or regard to Prescott and how he felt.
“Do you know what Kalia would have to say if she found out?” I mimicked Rosie once again. I didn’t realize until this moment how much Rosie and I were truly alike. As much as we didn’t want to admit it, Rosie and I live our lives going through almost the same exact experiences. What were the odds that I would know another person dating someone so heavily in the limelight? And, what were the odds that I would know another person dating someone in limelight who we cared about so much but didn’t reciprocated it back because of their job and status?
“Oh? Caring about your ex-girlfriend’s opinion about what you do with your life while she’s filming a movie in another country?” Rosie mocked. I didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole again with her. I think we both had a mutual agreement that our friendship worked better if we didn’t mention Prescott or Kalia, especially if it was used in a way to make the other person feel better about themselves and their shitty situation. I really thought that we were doing good and actually building what seemed to be like a solid friendship. Maybe we were both just kidding ourselves.
“Caring about a man that only claims you out at his social events?” I snapped back. “We both can play this game, Rosie. It’s not worth–“
“You think you know me so well, Micah,” Rosie interrupted, beginning to raise her voice. “You think just because I told you a couple of things about my life that now you know what’s best for me and what isn’t? I told you what I wanted to tell you; that’s what you fail to realize,” Rosie looked at me right in the eyes as her words hit me like they were venom. “You think you can relate to me and my experiences and tell me what to do with my life just from what you’ve went through with your little famous girlfriend. Hate to break it to you, but we are nothing alike and our situation as are nothing alike either.” Rosie turned around and began to empty the bags full of the party supplies, not playing any attention to me. I watched her, frustrated and angry as she did, analyzing everything I brought over. I didn’t like this for us, and I wish that we were able to get past this catalyst in our friendship.
“You know you shouldn’t have to care about a man that treats you the way he does,” I finally said, letting my intrusive thoughts win. “That much I know.” Rosie turned around to face me again. To my surprise, she’s not as reactive as I thought she would be. She scoffs, even mocks me for saying what I said. Is she trying to piss me off? What game is she trying to play?
“Maybe I like the way he treats me,” Rosie spat back. I couldn’t help but scrunch my eyebrows together, angry that she would say that. “Maybe I tell Prescott to treat me like that because that’s just the thing that gets me going–“
“You don’t mean that,” I finally spat out. “I know you don’t mean that–“
“Then why keep going back to a man that’s so openly abusive?” Rosie asked as she cocked up an eyebrow. “If I didn’t like what he was doing, then why would I even go back to a man if I didn’t accept, or like what he was doing?” What the fuck are you trying to do, Rosie? “Ever thought about that, smartass?” At that point, I don’t know what came over me, but my natural instincts took over my body for the slightest moment. What the fuck are you trying to do, Rosie? I grabbed Rosie by the collar of her shirt, bringing her closer to my face. I looked at her straight in the eyes and never took them off of her. I saw the immediate shift in her body language from being stoic to absolute fear.
“Try saying that shit to my face now, Rosie,” I whispered to her, looking at her in the eye. She stays mute, searching for something in my eyes in that moment. She then quickly grabs my hand and releases my grip from her shirt.
“Don’t ever fucking touch me like that ever again,” Rosie spat back at my face, walking away as soon as I release her. “Just go. I’ll handle the rest of the shit for the party.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, beginning to grab my bag of DJ equipment. I didn’t trust Rosie anymore to leave it at her place. “See you tonight, Delgado.”
“Fuck off, Kamalani,” Rosie shouted towards me as I slammed her front door. I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Was I truly wrong about Rosie? Did I really not know who the fuck I was hanging out with? At this point, it felt like there was no return of our friendship being like what it was these last couple of weeks. I knew that whatever we were trying to be was a complete lie and that I put way too much faith into Rosie’s character. There are girls out there like that; they like to be controlled by men because they think it’s some flex that they can keep one for so long, especially if they are of Prescott’s status. Maybe Rosie was right, maybe I don’t know the entire story behind her situation, but I know that when getting close to Rosie the way I did, she was mortified. I saw her fight or flight instantly kick in. I know she isn’t who she says she is.
But who fucking cares at this point if we keep just going in circles about this? Maybe Rosie is like those girls that do not want to be saved. A
And just like that, everything I felt about Rosie just turns off. She’s not even a friend, she’s not even an acquaintance. She’s some bitch that I got stuck doing some project with and that’s all I’m working on tonight for this party.
Fuck Rosie Delgado.
Letters From Liz. 