AN URBAN NOVEL | Champion and Chanala- Mirrors could be deceiving. Are there people out there that look in the mirror and are truly happy with the person that they see in the reflective surface?
Twenty-seven- year-old Champion Ortez McCoy wasn't to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
track #2 : Mirror Side1: Valentine's Day (Shameful) — Kehlani Mirror Side 2: Outta Time — Bryson Tiller & Drake
"His charade was pathetic and she saw through all of his lies and acting. The energy that he was putting into being sneaky wasn't even worth it."
"She needed the help. She needed help to be truthful and that was fucking sickening. The truth would've been good to hear, but in all actuality he didn't need to hear her say anything."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DOMINOES.
How do you stop dominoes from tipping over after remaining right side up for too long; or from stopping the first domino in line from taking down all of the other dominoes in their path? That answer was unknown. Maybe, only the sturdiest of hands or people made that task possible. Knocking down dominoes could either be satisfying or detrimental to the player at hand. For some, it provided the will to start over. For others, it was the end of what used to be.
"I can't believe I did that shit."
Chanala had an interesting habit of talking to herself, especially when she got into the shower. Something about the steam from the shower plunged through her scalp and supplied her with the will to have exact conversations with herself as if someone was standing beside her. She spent countless time under the burning water, thinking about the events of last night. Whenever she got angry, she didn't cool down until she received self-satisfaction. It wasn't a good feeling knowing that she nearly flashed her ass to half of the club population— embarrassed about her animalistic behavior, she cursed at herself and sucked her teeth.
At her big, grown age, she was sick that she let a man drag her to the point of acting out of character. It had been a while since she last engaged in any kind of physical altercation with anyone: ten years to be exact. Here she was at age twenty-four, with her knuckles burning underneath the scorching water. She observed them with her face twisted up. They were aching for a smidge of attention. Even if she wasn't the one that rolled out of bed with a blackened eye, she thought it was acceptable to say she woke up with something much worst. A blackened heart.
