Category: Black Sheep in Society: Season 2

The ringing in my ears intensified the longer I stood around in the alleyway. The cars passing along the streets were moving in slow motion; the horns were muffled. I couldn’t see anything clear, just two figures leaning towards me.

“Rosie?” I heard someone’s muffled voice say my name. I couldn’t move my body; everything felt numb. I slowly opened my eyes and saw two silhouettes over me. I start to panic, not knowing what was happening. Red. Red was all I saw as I looked down at my hands. I opened up my eyes, backing away from the two figures in an utter panic.

“Stop! Please! Help!” I began to scream out. The two figures try to calm me down, telling me to keep quiet and that everything was going to be alright. Nothing was ever going to be alright in these situations. I quickly got up, running past the two figures out of the alleyway.

“Rosie!” I hear another voice call out my name; a guy’s voice this time. I ran as fast as I could away from the alleyway, despite the immense amount of pain I was feeling. I didn’t care; I needed to get out of there before things got worse. I turned the corner, trying to catch my breath as I winced in pain. It was like I was coming in and out of conscious as if I was dying and being revived enough to come back to life to do nothing but feel this pain. I slid down the brick wall as my legs began to give out. I felt like I was going to die tonight.

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. I couldn’t tell what was real from reality anymore. Black. Black is all I saw.

…

I power-walked down the block toward Rosie’s apartment, passing every person that was standing alongside the sidewalk. I told Dani and Tanner to stay with Rosie and call for help without making it a huge scene. Let me handle this motherfucker once and for all.

I looked for visible signs that Prescott was still around nearby. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to just leave incriminating evidence behind. I walked back upstairs, hoping her friend knew anything about Rosie beyond the point of just school. I looked in the crowd of people for this girl. I finally spot her at the corner of the room, talking to a bunch of other girls. Cutting through the crowd of people, I made my way to her friend.

“Yo!” I called out for the girl. She immediately turned around, not amused that I called her in the way I did.

“My name is Nat,” she reminded me. I nodded politely, masking the true emotions running through my mind.

“Sorry, question,” I quickly said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” I noticed the girls look at Nat with raised eyebrows. “It’s about Rosie.” The girls turned their heads away from us, not interested in the topic of choice. Nat walked away with me from the group of girls and outside the apartment where it was quieter.

“You’re a good friend of Roe- Rosie’s, right?” I asked, trying to remain as coy as possible.

“If you mean good enough to help you get with her or something, you’re out of luck,” Nat responded. “She’s–“

“With Prescott Jones?” I finished her sentence, already knowing this piece of information. “You know she’s dating that billionaire guy, right?”

“Yeah, why?” she asked, seeming to be more annoyed than concerned.

“Did you see him here tonight?” I asked her, trying to put together the pieces of this twisted puzzle. “Did you see him come here for Rosie by any chance?”

“He was the one that took her aside,” she admitted. “Literally she came here to chat and then, like, not even 5 minutes after he came and asked if he could borrow her for a second.” I was beginning to panic, not trying to show Nat just how furious I was.

“And you haven’t seen her since?” I asked, looking at Nat directly in her eyes. She tried to read the expression on my face, confused.

“No, why?” she asked once again. I didn’t answer right away; instead I looked out from the balcony of Rosie’s apartment, hoping to see that white Porsche somewhere in the streets. “Micah?”

“Micah!” I heard a girl’s voice call out. Rosie? I walked down the stairs to see it was Dani. She looked panicked.

“You left Tanner with Rosie?” I asked, walking quickly away from the apartment toward the alleyway. Each step I made was progressively faster than the last, which led me to run the closer we got to the alleyway.

“Micah, Rosie–” I stopped immediately once I saw the white Porsche parked on the street across the alleyway. Red. Red is all I saw when turning into that alleyway.

Prescott’s back was faced toward me, looking down at the ground like he was looking for something. Red. Red is all I saw. I walked toward Prescott, unaware what was going to happen next.

“Micah!” Dani yelled out loud, which makes Prescott immediately turn around. I don’t give him a chance to react.

Black. Black is all I saw.

— End of Season 2 —

I sat in front of Dani’s floor mirror in her studio apartment, tying my hair up away from my face. Music played in the background; it was always playing whenever I would come over to their place. Dani walked out to the living room already dressed up. She looks at herself in the mirror behind me, brushing the wrinkles off of her dress.

“Damn Micah, can’t you use the bathroom mirror for this kind of stuff? I’m trying to see if these shoes match the dress,” Dani whined. I rolled my eyes, getting up from the ground and letting Dani take over the mirror.

“Who cares,” I started to say. “It’s going to be a dark room with LED lights; no one is gonna see how your dress and shoes are two different shades of blue.” I laughed as Dani nudged me. Tanner walks into the living room from the kitchen being the only one fully dressed and ready to go.

“You guys still aren’t ready?” Tanner asked us.

“Blame it on Micah,” Dani pointed out. “He just told me the blue in my shoes do not match the blue in my dress!” Dani walks away from us, slamming her bedroom door shut. I couldn’t hep but laugh as Tanner loudly sighed.

“Dude, why do you guys get on each other’s nerves?” Tanner asked.

“That’s our love language,” I teased, looking at myself in the mirror once again. “She’ll be fine though.”

“Everything is set up at Rosie’s place?” Tanner asked as he changed the subject. I sighed hearing her name, thinking about the conversation we had earlier at her place. I guess Tanner picked up on the utter excitement hearing her name. “You guys alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I dismissed, putting my jewelry on. “She was just being a cranky bitch earlier today.” I didn’t even feel bad calling Rosie a bitch; that’s exactly what she was when we last spoke. Tanner winced at my response.

“I wonder why all of a sudden she was acting like one,” Tanner said in a sarcastic tone. “Possibly because of that magazine that you told her about–“

“Dude, the crazy bitch bought the magazine,” I turned around, facing Tanner. “Like, why the fuck would you waste your money in buying that bullshit magazine?” I was growing angry at the conversation. I didn’t understand why she even bought it in the first place and why she was pinning it on me. You bought it, Roe; not me.

“Maybe she was afraid of it being seen out in public,” Tanner suggested.

“She bought one copy; not the entire store,” I corrected him. “She made it this huge deal when really it’s nothing. I guess power-hungry girls get like that though.” Tanner didn’t say anything back. Dani walked back into the living room with a different dress on.

“Better?” Dani asked, annoyed. She now had on this lime green plaid shirt and navy blue top, actually matching the shoes she wanted to wear.

“Cute,” I began to say. “You’re skirt is gonna glow in the dark under the black lights. Dani rolled her eyes at me, grabbing her purse from the sofa.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Dani said, opening the front door.

…

I placed my headphones over my head to hear the music that was playing throughout Rosie’s place. There were more people here than I expected; a lot of them were people that I didn’t even know went to our school. Some people were dancing and mingling throughout the apartment; some occasionally would come up t the DJ booth to request a song here and there. I didn’t even get to see Rosie yet; the only time I physically got to see her was when we got to her place prior to the party even starting. Nevertheless, the party was going good and everything was working out in our favor. After playing the final song from my first set, I faded the outro and picked up the microphone to officially welcome everyone to tonight’s party.

“What’s up, everyone!” I shouted as everyone faced the DJ booth and cheered. “I hope everyone is having a good night! I’m your DJ for the night, DJ Salem; my goal for you all is to have a good time, ladies shake some ass and fellas to dance along with them!” The ladies cheered as the guys clapped their hands. “Of course, tonight wouldn’t have been possible with my co-host, Rosie Delgado,” I pointed at Rosie, finally noticing her for the first time tonight. I immediately was taken back; Rosie’s hair was straightened, which made her hair look even longer than usual. She was wearing a tight, cocktail dress that fit in all of the right places. I didn’t even know her body even looked like that. Some people clapped for Rosie as I pointed at her. I had to clear my throat before continuing the greeting. “Let’s have a good time tonight, everyone!” The party goers cheered as I began to play a random mix on the mixer. I took the headphones off, walking towards Rosie. She had her camera strap around her neck, taking pictures of the party scene. She finally looked up from the camera as I got closer to her, sighing once she saw me.

“Hi,” Rosie said in a monotone way. “Don’t you have to do your DJ thing or something?”

“I have a mix playing,” I answered. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and–“

“If you’re asking me if I’m doing my part of the project, then you don’t have to worry,” Rosie interrupted me, lifting her camera up for a brief moment. “No need to check on me.” Rosie started to walk away from me, trying to end the conversation there.

“Wait, Rosie–“

“What?” Rosie turned around, facing me. I took a deep breath before finally speaking about the elephant in the room.

“Are we… good?” I simply asked. “I don’t like how things ended between us earlier. We were doing so good and–“

“You don’t understand, Micah,” Rosie interrupted me once again. “You think you know me so well and think we are so alike and because of that assumption, you think that whole magazine thing is just stupid.”

“Alike or not, the magazine cover is stupid,” I emphasized. “You know how many stories that tabloids have twisted about me whenever I was seen out with Kalia? You think I gave a shit about what they thought about me–“

“This is pointless,” Rosie said as she rolled her eyes. “Let’s just focus on this party and this project tonight.” Rosie walked away as she began taking more photos with her camera. I couldn’t stop looking at Rosie. I couldn’t just let this go.

“Roe,” I called out, turning around in the direction she was walking. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to not say anything about the magazine. For me, I didn’t see any harm in it, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t.” Rosie turned around and sighed, finally facing me.

“It’s not your fault the magazine thing even happened,” Rosie finally said in a gentle voice. “I’ll deal with it in my own way, but let’s not come for each other’s throats about it. We’re supposed to be friends.”

Rosie was right. Our friendship was at its strongest when we weren’t thinking too hard about our lives outside of it. We clearly cared about each other enough to let ourselves figure out our own lives, but I personally hated the way she would stand up for Prescott. But the things she said earlier keep replaying in my mind like a broken record… is that the person Rosie truly is? Was I trying to convince myself of Rosie being something that she clearly wasn’t? Should I just accept Rosie for what she told me?

If it meant saving my friendship with Rosie… if it meant me actually being a friend to Rosie… then I guess I have to.

“You’re right,” I said, smiling afterwards. “And as your friend, I have to tell you that you have super long fucking hair when it’s straightened, like a horse!” Rosie nudged me as I laughed, but I was glad that she laughed as well.

“At least mine doesn’t look like a mop,” Rosie teased back, ruffling my hair with her hand. I swat her hand away, rolling my eyes as she laughed. “Let’s actually enjoy this damn party.”

I grabbed Rosie by the hand and walked her over to the DJ booth with me. She seemed nervous at first but seemed excited as soon as she saw the lights on the mixer.

“I’m gonna queue the next song, and I want you to play it when you feel like it should be played,” I directed Rosie. She immediately widen her eyes, clearly very nervous.

“What if I fuck up the transition though?” she asked as she looked down at the mixer, then back at me. “What if I fuck up vibe of the party by messing this up?”

“You won’t,” I reassured her. “I’m right here if anything goes wrong.” Rosie looked at me one last time before turning her head to face the mixer. She bumps her head along to the song currently playing, putting her finger close to the queue button. I look at Rosie, placing the headphones over her head to better listen to the song. She looks so fucking cool being in the DJ booth. It wasn’t long after that she caught the beat and transitioned into the next song. The people up and dancing looked up toward the booth, bumping your heads even more along with the new song. Rosie looked excited as she took the phones off and looked at me.

“That was so badass!” Rosie said as she smiled. “I’m about to change my whole profession and become DJ Rosie!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement. How could she be so cute but be the hottest girl in this party? I let the song play for longer, grabbing Rosie’s hand to guide her toward the dance floor. To my surprise, she accepted the invitation to do so. We began to dance along to the song, getting engulfed into the flashing lights and loud music. Our dancing started off as playful; just being two friends having a good time. Rosie was the one that grabbed my hands first to place it on her hips. I was thankful the lights were low during the party or else she would’ve seen just how red my face got in that moment. She had turned herself around; her back now facing me. She started to dance up on me, moving her hips side to side to the beat of the music. We started to get closer to each other, closing the gap that was between us. It was like we were the only two dancing here, as if we were just dancing alone in her house.

I immediately snapped out of it as soon as I heard the final chorus of the current song.

“Shit, the next song,” I said as I quickly ran back up the DJ booth. I scrolled through the various playlists on my laptop, queuing the perfect song to play. When the timing was right, I blended the songs and transitioned to the next song. Rosie watched me, dancing to the next song that played. She threw her hands up, dancing next to the DJ booth. I couldn’t help but smile, feeding off of her good energy in that moment.

…

I finally had the chance to catch up with Dani and Tanner as they sat in a couple of chairs at one of the corners of the room. I wrapped my arms around both of my friends, standing in between them.

“How’s my posse doing?” I asked, clearly feeling good. Dani laughed as Tanner turned around and took a good look at me.

“Dude, you’re so smacked right now,” Tanner pointed out playfully. “You high off weed, or high off of dancing all up on Rosie?”

“You and Rosie were dry-humpin’ on the dance floor?” Dani teased, laughing as soon as she asked the question.

“We were dancing,” I corrected the both of them with a smirk on my face. Tanner couldn’t help but call my bluff.

“Nah, you guys were bumping body parts for real,” Tanner teased some more. I didn’t bother to fight it anymore; that’s exactly what we were doing on the dance floor. “Speaking of your dancing queen, where is she anyway?”

“She went to talk to a couple of her friends she invited,” I answered, looking toward the direction of her friends. I scrunched my eyebrows when I noticed she wasn’t with them anymore. “Well, she was.”

“Maybe she went out for a cigarette or something,” Dani intervened. “Maybe she drank too much; that would explain why she was bumpin’ and grindin’ on you earlier.”

I don’t know why, but something felt wrong. Sure, Rosie is allowed to do whatever she wanted, but she wouldn’t just leave her own apartment. I know Rosie well enough to know that she would’ve texted me if she needed a breather. I know Rosie well enough to communicate what she was doing and where she was going if it wasn’t in sight.

“She doesn’t smoke cigs or drink alcohol,” I quicky said before I walked away from my friends, toward her one friend she was talking to before. The girl quickly turned around once she felt me tap her shoulder.

“Hi, uhm, sorry to scare you,” I began to say to the girl. “I’m Micah; Rosie’s friend. Do you know where she went? She told me she was with you.”

“I haven’t seen Rosie all night,” the girl said, looking confused. “She came by earlier to take a couple of photos, but besides that we haven’t had a conversation all night.” This girl’s response caught me completely off-guard. Rosie told me she was going to chat with her friends about an hour ago… why would she just lie to me? I looked around her apartment through the various crowds of people in her apartment. Something doesn’t feel right. I walked away from the girl to walk toward the front door. At this point, I just needed some fresh air and some quietness to try to call Rosie’s phone.

I took my phone out of my pocket and dialed her number. She never picked up; it kept ringing before it suddenly went to her voicemail. Where the fuck are you, Roe? This isn’t like you. I began to walk down her front steps, redialing her number to call her again. I sighed as it began to ring without any answer. I finally got down to the sidewalk, trying her phone one more time before I got angry at her for not checking in. The line began to ring the same time I heard a faint ringtone near me. I looked around, but the further I got away from Rosie’s apartment, the less people were outside. I ran her line again and heard the ringtone play again; this time it sound like it was a lot closer than before. I looked around, scared out of my mind that I was hearing Rosie’s own ringtone play every time I called her. I eventually saw something glowing near a tree as I ran toward it.

It was Rosie’s phone in a small camera bag. I picked up the phone; the screen was completely shattered. The camera inside of the bag was nothing more than three big, broken pieces. My eyes widen in shock.

“Rosie!” I looked up, calling out her name in the street, looking around. “Rosie!” I began to panic, thinking the absolute worst happening to her.

“Micah!” I heard a girl’s voice call out. I turned around and let out a disappointing sigh; it was Dani running down the block with Tanner. “Dude what are you doing?”

I held up Rosie’s phone and camera bag toward Dani and Tanner. No words were able to come out my mouth.

“What’s that?” Dani asked.

“Is that–” Tanner began to ask, but i began to immediately panic.

“Rosie!” I called out her name once more, louder than before. I ran in the middle of the street, calling out her name once more. Dani and Tanner start looking around the block as they try to help me track down Rosie. My breathing began to shorten; I tried my best to grasp the little air left in my lungs. I couldn’t help but think that Rosie was injured in some way or went out with some random ass stranger from the party, leading to her disappearance. Rosie, please.

“Micah!” I heard Tanner call out my name. I immediately turned around and followed his voice; he had stumbled upon an alleyway between the abandoned building Rosie lived in and the one next to it as well. I ran inside the alleyway and saw Dani standing next to Tanner. She looked horrified as Tanner mimicked that same expression. I looked at them before looking down at the ground.

It was Rosie.

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.

I told Natasha about the party during one of our shifts at the bookstore and of course, she was upset that I didn’t tell her sooner. I tried to explain to her that the party was not just a party, but it was a part of the project I was working on with Micah. I was excited to finally be using my camera after leaving it in Philly when I moved to NYC. Last weekend when Hudson stopped by, he handed me the camera, curious in why I was using it again all of a sudden.

“It’s for my art project,” I said, opening the case and taking out the camera. Holding it in my hands instantly took me back to the streets of Philly. I know that’s all that there is on this camera roll.

“Art project?” Hudson questioned. “Isn’t photography different than art?”

“It’s a form of art,” I corrected him, turning on the camera. “We wanted to do a project about capturing art in moments of time and shit…” Hudson nodded his head, not really understanding but didn’t want to show that he didn’t. He was supportive like that.

“Well, I think you still have film in that camera, but if you needed more,” He began to say before handing me a plastic shopping bag. “I picked up some more.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking into the bag of film.

…

“So what’s the theme for this secret party you were not going to tell me about?” Natasha asked, clearly being sarcastic. I side-eyed her and couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s a ‘Blast From the Past’ themed,” I answered, walking down the street. “We wanted to do a 2018 theme; the year that we were born.”

“So about your project partner,” Natasha began to ask. I knew exactly where this was going.

“What about him?” I looked over at Natasha before walking into the film store. I opened the front door and entered the store, looking around at the photos and cameras displayed on the walls. I was glad we finally got to the store before having to have this awkward conversation with Natasha. Saved by the film.

I walked to the guy sitting at the counter of the store, greeting him as I took my camera out of it’s bag.

“Hi,” I smiled, placing the camera on the counter. “Do you guys develop pictures from film still? I’m not sure if what’s on here is worth saving or not.” The guy looked at the camera as I popped the film out of it. He seemed more interested in the camera rather than the film.

“You got a good condition Canon on your hands,” he said, examining it. “Vintage.”

“Cheap,” I corrected as I laughed. I handed the film to the guy.

“I can get this developed for you in like 10 minutes if you want to wait around for it,” the guy said, analyzing the film in his hand. The fuck is this dude doing?

“I guess so,” I shrugged, taking my camera from the counter as the guy went to the back. I turned around toward Natasha.

“So back to what we were talking about,” she mentions with a grin on her face. “I’ve never seen you so passionate about working on a project; something tells me this is more than just a project.”

“Keep thinking that, Nat,” I rolled my eyes, walking around a circle in place. “Literally just a dumb art project. Micah is my friend though, so I guess I can’t slack if another person’s grade is also on the line.”

“I’m not buying that sad excuse of an answer,” Natasha crossed her arms along her chest. “Like, you’ve been hanging out with this dude more than your actual boyfriend; Prescott is still your boyfriend, right?”

“Nat, I’m not entertaining this,” I tried to dismiss the conversation before Natasha dragged it any further. “It is what it is and I’m just trying to pass a class-“

“By throwing a party?” Natasha questioned. “Is Prescott invited to your little art experimental party?”

“He’s not going to want to come to a party with a bunch of nobodies,” I joked, trying to ease the intensity of this conversation. “I also don’t need all of the attention on him when he walks in the room.”

“Mhm,” Natasha responded without saying anything verbal. The guy comes back with a pack of developed photos in his hands. God knows what kind of pictures are in that envelope.

“Rosie, right?” The guy said, walking up to the counter. How the fuck does he know my name?

“Yeah?” I questioned. The guys smiled as he looked at the envelope in his hands.

“Do you go to FIT by any chance?” he asked. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“With that tuition? Absolutely not,” I jokingly said. “Why?”

“Because these pictures are better than any other pictures a FIT kid came in here to develop,” he mentioned, placing the envelope down on the counter. “You should consider submitting these to the ‘Photog-art-phy’ exhibition at MoMA.”

I cocked up an eyebrow. “The what?”

“It’s a photo exhibition that typically the FIT students apply for to get their art displayed in the museum and get compensated while getting exposure,” the guy began to explain. “Anyone can apply, but it’s really geared toward college students.”

“That sounds cool, but if FIT kids are applying for this opportunity, I don’t stand a chance,” I said, grabbing the envelope of photos from the counter.

“I’ve developed tons of film for FIT students, and nothing I’ve seen compares to what I saw on your film,” the guy looked at me. I looked down at the envelope, nervous to open it to see the photos that came from the film. I don’t even remember half of the photos I took on this film; God knows who is captured in these photos and what time they were taken. What if they are just reminders of my life back in Philly? What if I look at these photos and miss the life I had living there?

“I don’t even remember these photos to be honest,” I said toward the envelope more than the guy at the counter. Natasha nudged me, causing me to look up at her.

“You should do it,” she said, pointing at the envelope. “You’d probably get paid more having your work in a museum than slaving away in a college bookstore.”

“Personally,” the guy began to say. “I think you have a good chance of winning.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” I finally said to the guy. The guy went underneath the counter and pulled out a form; placing it on top in front of me.

“The deadline is next week,” he mentioned. “Pick your photos, fill this out, and drop it off at MoMA.” I took the form and folded it in half to put in my bag.

“I’ll be sure to do so,” I said, looking at Natalia. “Thank you again.”

“Anything for actual talented youth,” he responded. I smiled and exited the film store with the envelope still in my hands. Natasha was the first to say something once we got out.

“Let’s see the photos,” shea said, trying to grab the envelope from my hand. I quickly yanked it away.

“I’ll see them when I get back home,” I said.

“Why? We can pick the photos out now and fill the application out,” Natasha argued, looking confused.

“I just rather do it when I’m home,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You’re acting like it’s pornography,” Natasha emphasized.

“Nat, these are photos that I have absolutely no idea what they are,” I said, annoyed at this point. “These aren’t just your typical ‘vacation at the Bahamas’ type of shit. For fuck’s sake these photos could simply just be of me and my bum-ass ex-boyfriend that I don’t want to have to relive standing here on this street.”

“Whatever, Rosie,” Natasha said just to shut me up. “Forget about the pictures; what time is the party this weekend?”

“8,” I simply answered, feeling a type of way. Of course Nat only cares about coming to this fucking party and nothing else.

“Cool, I’ll see you this weekend then,” Natasha replied, walking away in the other direction. I rolled my eyes walking in the opposite direction. I don’t walk that far as something immediately caught my eye. The corner store had their usual display of newspapers and magazines; blowing in the wind as normal since no one actually buys them. One magazine flapping in the air caught my attention and I immediately felt the sheer panic seep into my bones.

 Tired of limelight partners? Kalia Holder’s ex-boyfriend hanging out with Prescott Jones’ girlfriend.

“Fuck,” I simply said, running into the corner store.

The weather was getting nicer, which meant that I was more comfortable taking my motorcycle out more to get to places. Sure, I didn’t have my motorcycle license just yet, but if I’m able to drive a bulky ass car without getting into accidents, then I would say that my driver’s license was just fine driving this dainty motorcycle. I also really wanted to take it out to show Rosie; it would be her first time seeing it, and I was excited to see her reaction to it.

Rosie and I’s friendship has been really good these past couple of weeks. The more that I allowed myself to support Rosie and just be her friend, the softer she has become. It’s like she’s allowing me to see a different side of her; one that not many people get the pleasure in seeing. Rosie has always had a hard exterior to the point she is deemed unapproachable. For some reason, that quality about her made me want to get to know her, and I’m glad that it did because Rosie is so fucking cool.

I drive down Rosie’s block, slowing down once I get to her corner. I looked up to her apartment window and see the curtain from inside is blowing in the wind. I smile before cupping my hands over my mouth.

“Yo, Roe!” I shouted out toward her apartment window, hoping she could hear me. It wasn’t long after that Rosie poked her head out the window; her curly brown hair with her colored streaks blowing in the wind.

“What the fuck is that you’re next to?” she shouted back. I look at the motorcycle next to me before looking back up at her.

“Your ride for the day,” I answered, smiling. “Come on, Juliet! Your chariot awaits!” I can hear Rosie laughing before she puts her head back into her apartment. I couldn’t help but feel good in this moment. I couldn’t help but just smile.

I look up and see Rosie closing the front door behind her. She runs down the stairs to finally meet me at ground level. She immediately looks at the motorcycle.

“Micah,” Rosie begins to say. “Where the hell did you even get a motorcycle from?”

“She’s not just any motorcycle, Roe; she’s my baby, Suzanne,” I explained, running my hand down the side of the motorcycle.

“Suzanne?” Rosie repeated. “Is she supposed to be your hot, cool motorcycle, or your middle-aged aunt from the 90’s or something?”

“Oh! So you got jokes now, I see,” I said, crossing my arms along my body.

“Yep,” Rosie said as she put her bookbag on her back before walking around the motorcycle. “Thinking about changing career paths and becoming a comedian.”

“You gotta go to clown school for that,” I began to say, getting ready to get on the motorcycle. “I’m sure you’ll get in.” Rosie nudged me on my shoulder as I laughed. I slapped the seat behind me, inviting Rosie to sit down. “Come on.”

“Wait, you were being serious about riding this thing?” she asked, pointing at the motorcycle.

“No, I was just coming to show you it; we’re gonna be walking,” I said, being sarcastic. “Ofc course we’re riding this motorcycle.” Rosie slowly walks to the motorcycle, looking a little nervous. I handed her a helmet hat I packed inside of my bookbag.

“Are you sure this safe, Micah?” Rosie questioned. I rolled my eyes, strapping the helmet onto her head.

“If you keep this on, then yes,” I answered, smiling as I buckled the strap on her chin. I turned around to get in position before starting the motorcycle. I immediately felt Rosie’s arms wrap around my body. It caught me off-guard at first, but then realized she is doing that to prepare herself.

“Ready?” I asked one last time before we took off. She nodded her head yes. I smiled, turning back around and began driving. It took Rosie a couple of blocks to get the hang of it; she didn’t viciously grab me as we continued riding down the streets of Brooklyn. I can tell she started to enjoy it as she kept happily screaming every now and then when the motorcycle went fast. Her hair blew in the wind as we kept driving; her excitement made me smile.

…

We finally make it to the Oxygen Lounge after picking up some party supplies. The day of the party was quickly approaching and Rosie and I needed to get the important things out of the way. We sat in our usual spot, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Rosie; her hair was fluffy and sticking out from every different angle. She attempts to flatten it but fails miserably.

“Curly hair problems, huh?” I asked, taking a menu from the table to hand it to Rosie. She rolled her eyes as a response.

“Dude, you don’t even know,” Rosie said, letting her hair do whatever it wants. “It has a mind of its own.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I responded, flipping through the pages. “That’s why I locked my hair.”

“You have naturally curly hair?” Rosie asked, seeming shocked. I nodded my head.

“My mom has wildly curly hair; I was cursed with that gene,” I explained. “It was getting to be too much of a hassle but I didn’t want to cut it short. So, I just locked it.”

“I cannot picture you with like a military style haircut,” Rosie added, flipping through the menu now. “Like, your head–“

“Don’t even say it, Roe,” I interrupted her, knowing exactly where this is going. Rosie burst out laughing. “Like for real.”

“Say less,” Rosie said, before closing her menu book. “I know what I’m getting; you ready, egghead?” I couldn’t help but laugh; Rosie knew exactly how to joke without actually making it known she was joking.

“I think I got my order down, Cynthia,” I joked back, Rosie kicked me from underneath the table as I started to laugh. We quicky called a waiter order and gave them our order, which was our usual for the lounge.

“So about this party,” I began to say, getting straight to business. “We should meet up like an hour i advance to get everything set up and decorated. How are we doing with ticket sales?”

“They’re good; could be better,” Rosie said, scrolling on her phone. “We have about 20 people already on the list.” I cocked my eyebrow up.

“Not bad for two nobodies throwing a party,” I said, flipping the pages of my notebook. “You got the camera ready for the project?” Rosie nodded her head.

“Yep, I was able to have Hudson grab it for me when he visited from Philly. Hopefully it still works,” Rosie said out loud to herself.

“Is photography just another art outlet you took on?” I asked.

“Not necessarily,” Rosie tilted her head to the side, looking down at the table. “You want the truth, or do you want the answer I give to everybody?”

“Give me the answer you feel most comfortable in telling me,” I answered back. I was afraid to hear Rosie’s reason why. Everything that Rosie admitted about herself just was heartbreaking, to say the least.

“I actually wanted to document my life in Philly,” Rosie said. “I also wanted some insurance just in case anything happened to me.”

“Insurance?” I asked. “For what?”

“As a runaway, you always need some type of insurance just in case you went missing,” Rosie began to explain in a nonchalant way. “People didn’t care about the teens that go missing when they live in the streets. They are just deemed as human garbage and one less teen on the street meant that the street was getting cleaner.”

“That’s a fucked up way to think about it,” I commented. “I guess you didn’t need your camera when you came to New York.”

“Yeah,” she added, taking the camera out of her bag. She smiled as she looked down at it. “I specifically told Hudson to leave the old film back at home; I didn’t want to get the urge to develop those photos.”

“It’s understandable,” I reassured. “Well, I’m glad that your camera is now serving a new purpose.” I smiled at Rosie. She lifted her camera up and took a picture of me sitting across from her. She looks at the screen, flipping around so that I can see the picture. I couldn’t help but smile; laugh even.

“I look like a kid who went out to dinner with his mom after school after getting a passing grade in Math,” I explained as I laughed. Rosie couldn’t help but laugh either.

“Dude, the imagery,” Rosie laughed as she looked back at the picture. We had to have been the loudest people in the lounge this afternoon, but we were definitely having the most fun together. I hope it stays this way.

…

I can hear my phone vibrating nonstop on my nightstand, which was beginning to piss me off. This particular week had been rough; midterms on top of midterms on top of assignments that needed to be made up. All I wanted to do was sleep in this one Friday I had no classes. I sucked my teeth and flipped over to face my nightstand, grabbing the phone without even knowing to it was.

“Yo, wtf is going on?” I answered the phone, angry but half asleep.

“Yo, Micah,” The voice says over the phone. It’s Tanner. “You gotta get up.”

“Tanner, I don’t have time to play referee with your girlfriend,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Listen to me, man,” Tanner said, seeming a bit serious. “You gotta see what I saw when I went to the corner store.” I sighed as I was just about to hang up the phone. “Did you get my text?” I take the phone away from my ear and minimize Tanner’s call. I opened up my messages to see that Tanner had sent me a picture. I open the picture and that’s when I fully wake up. “Like, I’m not trippin’, right?” I hear Tanner said over the phone.

There it is: a magazine with a picture of Rosie and I at the corner with the title, Tired of limelight partners? Kalia Holder’s ex-boyfriend hanging out with Prescott Jones’ girlfriend.

“Fuck,” I simply said, jumping out of my bed.

I met up with Micha one day after our Art History to kill about 5 birds with the same, big stone. For starters, I needed to run to the craft store to begin working o this project for our class. I was more than capable of purchasing the art supplies with my own money, but Micah refused for me to pay it.

“Roe, you deadass pay rent every month,” Micah began to say as he grabbed the canvases from my hands. “Plus, this is a project we’re both working on, the least I can contribute to this portion of the project is paying for all of this shit.”

“Well geez, if you put it like that,” I responded, rolling my eyes at Micah. I began roaming the aisles of the art supply store; I truly felt like I was in heaven. I kept stopping to look at every little thing down each aisle. It wasn’t like it was my first time being in an art supply store; I go to the one in the city a lot with Prescott, but he tends to always rush me whenever we go. I was glad to see that Micah wasn’t like that; instead, he would just stand there and wait for me to walk to the next thing in the aisle that grabbed my attention.

“So I was thinking we could meet up some time this weekend to discuss business,”Micah said as we walked down the different aisles.

“Business? Dude, it’s a sophomore-level art class,” I teased Micah. He rolled his eyes as I laughed.

“That, but also this party we’re trying to throw,” Micah added. “When were you thinking about throwing the party?”

“We could do a Spring Break party,” I suggested. “I grew up watching all of the trashy Spring Break themed parties; it’ll be cool to replicate something like that.”

“I don’t take you as the type to watch those trashy movies,” Micah responded.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, friend,” I once again teased, turning the corner to walk down a new aisle.

I kept staring at these one set of paint brushes that were too pretty to not look at. They were iridescent, hitting the light in the store in such a way look like it was made out of the prettiest material. The set alone was 50 bucks, which meant I had to put them back. Before I was able to fully put them back on the peg, Micah stops me.

“Get them,” Micah insisted.

“Dude, these shits are 50 cash,” I mentioned. “I don’t have that type of money.”

“I’ll get them for you,” Micah said, grabbing them from the peg. “Consider this an early–or if your birthday as already passed–late birthday present from me.”

“Micah,” I tried to say, but Micah was not having it.

“They are already in our cart and you’re fucking getting them to paint,” Micah concluded. I looked at him as he walked by me with the cart in his hand. I followed him, like a kid in a candy store, who was just told that they were able to get the one piece of candy they’ve been dying to have.

…

I stared at the paint brushes on my bed when I got back home. I didn’t even want to take them out of its pretty packaging, for fuck’s sake. I questioned Micah’s motive for purchasing these brushes for me in the first place. Why would he do something without wanting anything in return? Does he expect me to give him something? Why the fuck would he do something like this for someone like me?

I heard a knock on my front door, which was weird since I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over today. I walked to my door and opened it. I don’t remember what happened or what I did after I opened the door, but I was not expecting to see, out of all people, Hudson to show up at my door.

“Hudson?” I said, just needing to confirm that it’s actually him. He looks pissed.

“We need to talk,” Hudson simply said. Does this is how it feels to be scolded by your parents? If so, this shit fucking sucks. He walks into my apartment and looks around; the detective in him analyzes the fuck out of everything in it.

“I spoke to your college after not getting a housing bill these last two semesters,” Hudson began to say as he circled around the apartment. “And to my surprise, they informed me that no one; absolutely no one, under the name Rosie Delgado dorms at the college.” Fuck.

“Hudson,” I began to say. He clearly wasn’t having it.

“So you weren’t going to tell me that you live in some run-down apartment in the middle of the projects?” Hudson spat out. “You’ve been just taking the money for your housing and decided to put it somewhere else or something?”

“I-” I began to say again, but Hudson wasn’t finished; obviously.

“What in your right mind thought that this wasn’t going to get back to me?” Hudson asked, clearly wanting an answer now.

“Because it didn’t get to you during my freshman year,” I answered, barely audible. Hudson sighed loudly, of course not happy with me whatsoever. “How did you even find my place?”

“Really, Rosie?” Hudson answered back. Duh; he’s a fucking cop, and anyone can wave their badge around for information these days.

“You had no right looking into my school record,” I spat back, trying to get the heat off of me for a moment. “Haven’t you heard of HIPPA or some shit like that?”

“That’s doctors not being able to discuss your medical records, Rosie,” Hudson corrected. I’m in a liberal arts college, not medical school obviously. “Did you spend all of that money on this?”

“Part of it,” I answered. “The rest went towards living expenses.”

“What living expenses?” Hudson shouted, now visibly angry. “You call this piece of shit living expenses?”

“It was all I can afford, Hudson,” I snapped back, getting defensive. “It was either this or some boondocks apartment building in the Bronx; at least I can still go to and from school in time living here–“

“The same with dorming at the damn college! Rosie, I wanted you to go to college and focus on your studies; wasn’t that our agreement?” He wasn’t wrong. Back in Philly, Hudson attended my GED ceremony; he was the only adult in my life that gave a shit about where I was going in life. My parents had no fucking clue, and all of my friends either dropped out of high school or simply overdosed on drugs before they were even able to finish. I promised Hudson I was going to go to college in New York; get away from all of the bad shit that Philly brought in my life. I wanted to start fresh; I wanted to go to another state and be a different type of girl while doing something no one around me has ever done: give a fuck about living for their goddamn future.

“It’s not like I’ve been doing illegal shit or something,” I said, knowing damn well that wasn’t the truth. “Technically, I’m still in agreement.”

“You’re actually going to your classes?” Hudson asked. It annoyed me that he didn’t believe me, but then again there’s been so much I’ve lied about already to him. Maybe he already knows; maybe he is waiting for me to finally feel the guilt and just word vomit everything.

“I am,” I said, annoyed. “I just came back from getting shit for my art history project.” I pointed at all of the supplies on my bed, including the expensive paint brushes. Hudson takes a seat, sighing before he said anything to me.

“I’m not trying to micromanage your life,” he began to say. “I just want you to do as best as you can and do something better with your life. You’re capable of being great.”

“I am doing my best,” I said, sitting down on the chair across from him. “I go to school, I work at the campus bookstore, and I’m learning how to live on my own in the gist of all of this.” Hudson faintly smiled before getting up from the chair. He looked around the apartment one last time.

“Can we at least try to make this apartment look more… livable?” Hudson mentioned. I sucked my teeth, not appreciating his comment.

“Sure, if you want to help me pay for ‘livable’ things for my apartment,” I teased, laughing at Hudson when he rolled his eyes.

“Please keep out of trouble, Rosie,” Hudson said as he started to walk towards my front door. “And please; don’t keep any more secrets from me.” I nodded and walked him out the front door.

“I will,” I said, looking at Hudson as he walked down the flight of stairs. I closed the door when he left and immediately let out the loudest sigh. I walked toward my bed and picked up the brush set from my bed; admiring it.

This was the first time I went to a girl’s house that didn’t result in us making out or fucking; yet alone with my DJ equipment in my bag. I don’t know what was the sudden change in Rosie’s liking to me, but I didn’t want to question it. Maybe she finally dumped that lower and is now seeing shit clearer. I know that wasn’t the case, and I didn’t want to put my hopes up for her in that situation anymore. Every time Rosie and I end up being in a good place, that asshole comes around and ruins everything.

I can’t lie, seeing Rosie walk away from me toward Prescott that night was the last straw. I went home feeling exhausted from the night I had. I was mentally exhausted from the constant thoughts of Rosie with Prescott. I couldn’t help but worry about her; what if he does something stupid tonight and I let that asshole just take her away? What if I’m responsible for whatever happens to Rosie since I was the last person she was seen with? I was glad to see Rosie come up to my table at the study lounge the other day simply for the reason that she was okay. But, I had to realize tat Rosie is an adult, and I can’t control her or influence the decisions she makes. I can only really be her friend, and although friends support each other’s stupid fucking decisions; I am not making it known anymore that her being with Prescott bothers me.

Again, who am I to her to even be influential?

I finally arrived at Rosie’s place; it doesn’t bring the greatest of memories being here. Rosie doesn’t live in the greatest side of the neighborhood, and quite frankly her apartment is just this big, open space of nothing. But, I understand her logic of wanting to live in her own place; she just wanted to live a normal life after living an uncommon one back home. I began to walk up the 10,000 steps toward her front door, instantly becoming out of breath when I reach the top. I knocked on Rosie’s door before she quickly answered it. She looked at me like I had 2 different heads on my body.

“Dude,” Rosie said, opening her door wide so that I can enter. “Did you marathon from your place to mine or some shit?”

“No,” I began to say, trying to catch my breath. “But try walking up your Great Wall of China steps with this heavy ass equipment.” I set my bag down on the ground.

“It’s good exercise,” Rosie added before closing her front door. I looked around her apartment as I started to take my equipment out of my bag. It looks a lot different than the first time I was in her; it actually is starting to look like an apartment of a college student. “You want something to drink? Alcohol is not an option.”

“You’re really against drinking, huh?” I asked, watching Rosie take out a water bottle from the fridge.

“Nothing good comes out of a person when they drink,” Rosie explained as she handed me the bottle. “You either say some dumb shit or puke up some dumb shit. I didn’t take you to be such the drinking type.”

“I’m not,” I corrected Rosie, plugging in the wires of the mixer. “I’m a social drinker.”

“Isn’t everyone under those standards?” she pointed out. I rolled my eyes at Rosie as she laughed.

“I think you just answered your own dumb question,” I teased, setting the laptop and Bluetooth speaker. Rosie crossed her arms as she stepped back, looking at the setup.

“You have to do this for every gig you do?” I nodded my head, opening the program up on my laptop. “That’s annoying.”

“That’s why thy tell you to get there an hour before the gig starts,” I explained. “It takes like an hour for everything to be set up.” I plugged in the LED lights, turning Rosie’s apartment to our very own nightclub setting. Rosie cocked her eyebrows at the lights began to circulate around the room.

“So, have you’ve been working on new music for yourself?” Rosie asked. “I know you’ve been busy making stuff for Dani and Tanner.”

“Actually,” I started to say, queueing up the next song. “I was working on this remix and was going to put it out sometime this week.” I began to play the remix from the speaker, bumping my head to the beat. I look up at Rosie, sitting with her legs crossed on top of her couch and also bumping her head. It made me feel good knowing that someone like Rosie, aka the type of person that solely only listens to a specific genre of music, was enjoying the mix I created.

“Dude, this song was legit my childhood,” Rosie mentioned as he danced along. “Doing all the dumb TikTok dances in elementary school.”

“Me too!” I excitingly said, bouncing my body to the bass of the song. Rosie started to really get into the mix, singing along to the lyrics with her cellphone acting as a pretend microphone. I got up from behind the mixer and began singing along with her. We both began to just dance around Rosie’s apartment; the LED lights flashing along the walls and the music blasting from the speaker. It felt like it was our private party; no one but us two just having a good time vibing out.

I enjoyed seeing this side of Rosie; the one where she’s happy and fun and lets loose. Her curly hair bounces with every jump she made. She would make a great hype girl, that’s for sure. In this moment, I was dancing along to my new song with my best friend. Rosie had been my best friend for awhile now, but I didn’t know if Rosie considered me to be her best friend. But, something tells me I am. I wonder just how many people have seen Rosie like this: carefree and energetic and happy. Even I haven’t seen her this happy in the couple of months I’ve known her. I’m glad she trusts me enough for her to be this vulnerable.

The song comes to an end, and Rosie eventually walks to the table to grab her water bottle and catch her breath. I do the same, waiting for her to say something.

“That was so fucking fun,” Rosie finally said, taking a sip of her water. “And that track is dope as fuck. Are your performing it at a gig or something?” She’s so fucking excited; it’s great.

“Nothing lined up yet, but for sure after seeing the reaction it got you,” I mentioned.

“You should throw a party,” Rosie suggested. “Like a party for all the 2010 babies, play music from our childhood and shit. I think it’ll be fun!” I took what Rosie suggested into consideration. Sure, I did gigs at other people’s parties, but it would be cool to throw one of my own.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” I said. “It’s actually a pretty good one. Have some performers do a segment and shit, and then just have all of us party all night.”

“Dude, you can even have the party here,” Rosie pointed out. I looked around her apartment once more. It wasn’t like her apartment wasn’t good; it was more so the entire layout of it.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude in your home, Roe,” I said, walking back to the mixer to find the next song to play. “I could fin some studio to do it in.”

“And spend more money than you need to?” Rosie questioned. “Come on.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, playing the next song. “This song would definitely make an appearance at that party though.”

“Dude!” Rosie said, excited. “Yo, I haven’t heard this song in literal decades; how the fuck did you find this?”

“An artist never reveals its secrets,” I teased, turning the turntable to create noticeable scratching noises on the track. “But if you really wanted to know; my brain is just one huge repertoire of music.”

“Only a pretentious artist would give an answer like that,” Rosie said before nudging me in the shoulder. She laughed before she started to dance in the middle of her apartment. I like seeing Rosie like this, if I haven’t mentioned so already. I like this Rosie. I like Rosie like this.

“So, where are we going?” I finally asked Micah as we continued to walk down the street, passing block after block. I was starting to feel the cold and feeling dumb wearing this dress outside.

“Somewhere that we could go inside and warm up,” Micah answered, looking straight ahead as we walked. He looked at me when we got to the end of the street, waiting for the light to change. “Are you in a hurry to go back to that event?” I quickly shook my head; I didn’t want to be anywhere near that snobby ass event.

“I’ve done enough socializing with stuck-up, rich people for the day,” I answered. Micah nodded his head; I felt like he understood it best when it came to sitting in an event you had no business sitting in.

“You wanna come hang out with me?” Micah asked. “Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know we aren’t the best of friends.” I rolled my eyes since I knew Micah wasn’t being completely serious when he said that.

“I guess,” I answered. “It’s my next best option, huh?” I laughed as Micah pouted. He did end up laughing right after. “So, where are we going?”

“To Dani and Tanner’s place,” Micah said. “You’ve met them before, right?”

“I haven’t,” I said, although it was somewhat of a lie. I had briefly met them months ago at Micah’s gig at the Oxygen Lounge… even though they didn’t know who I was or who I was there to see that night. Micah looked shocked.

“You’ll like them,” Micah reassured me. “They’re chill and–“

“Dani’s been your best friend since birth,” I finished his sentence. “I know of them.” Micah seemed a little shy, which made me feel a little shitty for correcting him like that.

“Sorry,” Micah blurted out. “Sometimes, I forget things I’ve said to people and shit. I just assume people don’t listen the first time around.” I was surprised that Micah felt that way; he carried the confidence that seemed like people listened. I wouldn’t have thought Micah was insecure with something like that.

…

Micah walks ahead of me when going up the flights of stairs in his friends’ apartment building. The building wasn’t the greatest, but it also was a decent place for a college couple to be living in. At least there’s no RA on your ass about fucking, huh? Micah stops at one of the doors at the end of the hall and knocks on it. Music can be heard playing inside of the apartment. A few minutes later, the guy opens the door, in which he gives Micah a fist pound upon entering.

“Hey man,” the guy, who I’m assuming is Tanner, says to Micah. We both enter the small apartment in which Micah begins dancing and singing along with the girl, who I’m assuming is Dani. They look like they’ve known each other since birth seeing how comfortable they are with each other. Tanner closes the door behind us and walks into the living room area. Micah tuns around and looks at me, probably realizing I was there with him.

“This is my friend, Rosie,” Micah introduced me to his friends. “She also goes to the college.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dani and Tanner said at the same time. Very much a couple thing to do. I can tell they kept looking at the fancy fucking dress I had on, which made this first time meeting Micah’s friends very awkward.

“Nice to meet you guys as well,” I bean to say before brushing down my dress. “I escaped my cousin’s Sweet 16, which explains me being this goofy ass dress.” Dani and Tanner laugh.

“I remember my sweet 16 like it was yesterday,” Dani said, now looking at Micah. “We were so stupid thinking that we were the shit at that age.”

“We still think we’re the shit at 20 though,” Micah added on. I’m glad the lie was believable enough to even bypass the real explanation. Micah looked relieved once I said it.

“So, what are you studying?” Tanner asked, sitting on the sofa next to Dani.

“Art,” I answered, sitting down in the seat next to Micah. “Well, education to become an art teacher of some sort.”

“That’s dope,” Dani added. “So you’re an artist?” I nodded my head. For some odd reason, I felt more intimidated talking to Dani than I am to Tanner; probably because of her status with Micah was more like family than friends.

“I paint and draw when I get the chance,” I explained. Dani nodded her head and got up from her seat, walking to the kitchen.

“You guys want a drink or something before we start rehearsal?” Dani shouted from the kitchen. “Rosie, you’re more than welcome to get a drink too.” I looked at Micah, a bit confused in what she meant by that. Don’t musicians drink water at rehearsal or something? Micah starts talking out a little bag of weed from his pocket, placing his phone on a lap in order to roll up.

“I’m good for now; thank you though,” I answered back.

“Rosie’s a smoker,” Micah added. I nudged him on the shoulder as he laughed. “She likes to get high like me.”

“Coincidentally, I only smoke when you’re around, so perhaps you’re just a horrible influence,” I spat back. Micah nodded his head as Tanner ‘oh-ed’ at my comeback.

“Touche, Roe,” Micah teased.

“Smoking is horrible for you anyways,” Dani chimed in. “Like how are you a musician but you smoke weed, on top of that cigarettes?” I looked at Micah, learning of the news. I didn’t know he smoked cigarettes.

“That’s because I’m not a singer, smart ass,” Micah said to Dani. She rolled her eyes and put two shot glasses in front of Micah and I. She then gives one to Tanner before sitting down.

“So this is what we’re gonna do tonight,” Dani started to say before holding up her shot glass. Micah and Tanner do the same, so it was only right that I do it with them as well… despite telling Dani I was alright. “We’re going to go over the two songs for the show next week; Micah, I need you to stay focus on the mixer–“

“The fuck you mean–” Micah said before Dani interrupted him.

“I said what I said,” Dani said in a stern tone. “Tanner, I’m gonna need that guitar to be in tune before we start rehearsal, so get it together, babe.” Dani raised her glass even higher; we all follow her along. “Let’s have fun, rock this rehearsal out, and enjoy the rest of the night.” Before I knew it, they began to chug their glasses; I immediately followed through too. I winced once the alcohol hit the bac of my throat; I wasn’t used to taking strong shots like this.

“Let’s fucking go!” Micah shouted, getting up from his seat and getting his mixer out of his bag. Dani and Tanner begin to set up for the rehearsal; I felt kind of stupid for being the only one sitting down.

“You gotta tell us the truth, Rosie,” Dani turned around and said to me. “If we sound fucked, tell us. Sometimes these two are too up their own asses to realize they aren’t perfect-” Both Tanner and Micah start to whine and complain, which makes me laugh. Micah rolls his eyes and puts his headphones on while Dani and Tanner get ready to rehearse.

The first song starts and they all seem to get really professional out of nowhere. Dani has a soft singing voice, but her strongest feature is the way she still sounds feminine as she raps. Tanner looks like your typical guitarist although has a more mellow approach to it. Micah turns into a completely different person when he performs, so I wasn’t surprised that he was any different in rehearsal. I knew people Like Micah existed in the world; the ones that throw their whole life into their passion without looking back. What set Micah aside from the others was that he was good at balancing his passion with who he was as a person. He still managed to go to class every day and still got good grades. He managed to still have a personality outside of his passion and never acted different when it came to working with other people. Sure, as a person Micah would sometimes get under my skin, but i have not met someone like Micah ever in my life and that’s saying a lot considered many people have came and left my life for the last 20 years. That’s what scares me the most.

During their rehearsal, I see my phone screen lighting up, buzzing as if someone was calling me. I looked down and see that it’s one of Prescott’s unsaved numbers. He’s probably wondering where am I.

Who cares? I swiped the phone left, ignoring his calls, accepting the havoc to come about it when I see him again.