This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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"If your feeling lonely when the sun goes down..."
Imani and I sit up in our seats, careful to not knock our books out of our laps, as our excited mewls are snatched out of the air surrounding us. We've got to be cool if we want to be accurate. We deepen our voices as much as we can and speak in time with the commercial. "Give me a call, baby." Our shared laughter being ridden with squeaks and giggles reveals to the world just how overjoyed we get whenever this commercial airs.
"All you got to do is dial 1-900-969-VANTE. I promise I won't miss a beat once you get on the line, baby."
I sighed as the seducer on the screen faded away and a Campbell's soup commercial appeared as we awaited for 21 Jump Street to return to us. "I wonder if anybody's ever made it through to one of those lines. I know the queue must be something crazy," I mindlessly say, flipping through my textbook.
Imani nods her head in agreement. "Gotta be," she assures. "I think it's only him on that line too. That's major work."
"Nah, Tanya called once. She said that it was a queue for him then in the process they offered other men to talk to."
"Lucky girl," laughs Imani as Detective Judy Hoffs appears on the television screen. "I'd never actually call. No way."
I keep my embarrassing thoughts to myself. The truth is, I'm dying to call the number just to see if I can get through. I've never done it but it has been a heavy consideration lingering in the back of my mind for quite some time now. I've gathered information about the chatline from every experienced being I have access to and if I'm left alone long enough, I can see myself testing my chances. I doubt that I've got anything to lose.
Imani sits up. "You know what, what's Jackie's cousin's name again?"
"Remy," I tell her, pulling a pencil from behind my ear. I sit up on the couch. I'm shocked that she is not swooning over Johnny Depp's Tom Hanson but it seems that she is too busy peeking into my brain and its data bank of names.
Imani snaps in remembrance as she recalls her next door neighbor's name. "Yeah, her!" Her thoughts come flowing bcack to her with ese. "I just remembered... She and her sister call the line all the time, she say. She usually ends up talking to one of other randoms— I hear she's collecting names like baseball cards— Crystal got through though."
"No way," I gawk in disbelief.
Knowingly noddibg, Imani scribbles across the top of her notebook in a language I can't comprehend. Clearly her latin courses have been paying off. "I know! She said Vante's got a bedroom voice to die for, honey. He's all up on the line rapping it up like a Bobby Brown interlude."
"I'm looking for something to make me feel like a Janet interlude, you know what I'm saying," I laugh as we nudge one another. "Kudos to her though. I can't imagine how long she sat on that line. I know it's ridiculous, especially with the way they play his commercials on tv and every three songs on the Quiet Storm. Business has got to be booming."
