OCTOBER 17, 2013
• T R E V O N •
Tick. Tock. Was the sound I heard repeatedly as I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. Again, I looked over to the empty spot next to me, wondering why I wanted him to be here so badly.
Nothing good comes of us anyway.
A deep sigh escaped me as I finally sat up. I groaned getting out of bed, sleepily dragging myself to the bathroom to prepare for the day.
It was in fact my birthday, but I still had some things I needed to work on, so I'm about to head to the building to finish some last-minute stuff.
My reflection took hold of my attention when I entered the bathroom. I examined my appearance—something I always do, and I noticed all the imperfections, like how I've lost some weight, or how my muscles aren't as defined.
I mean it's not like I'm trying to keep up my actor body that I maintained when I was still doing films, so I'm not too mad about it. Besides, I kinda prefer myself this way.
I smile at the reflection in the mirror noticing how much more real I look. I don't look like someone's idealized trophy or someone's fantasy. I look like a person with some fat here and there. Some muscles here and there.
I then finish up my hygiene routine, putting on a simple work outfit, a simple black, halfway button-up shirt that was a bit fitting, with some black slacks and a jacket being as it was a bit chilly outside.
I gathered all my essentials and headed towards the door. However, as I was preparing to leave, I heard a knock.
I pause in my movements, thinking about the man I kicked out. I know it's selfish of me, but I kind of hoped that it was him behind that door. Just to say happy birthday.
I don't know why I want him. I shouldn't. I know he's not good. I know we're not good, but he's always been there. That's something I never got from anybody. Something that I should've received from the people who were supposed to love me, but didn't. But, I am the one who kicked him out, so I have no right to ask him for anything.
My mind was broken from my somber thoughts when I heard the voice behind the door. "Happy birthday, Trevon,"
"Malik?" my eyes widened, shocked that he was here. "Whatchu doin' hur?"
He smiled at me making my body start to heat up, making me forget about Dayshawn for a second, as he held up bags I guess that was meant for me. "Whatchu mean, nigga. It's yo birthday. You just gon' keep standin' hur or you gon' let me in?"
I moved out the way allowing him to walk through the door.
He walked over to my kitchen setting down the bags before taking off his jacket and putting it on one of the barstools. He then wave for me to come to him.
I smiled at the gesture, walking over to the kitchen island, sitting in one of the barstools while he stood up leaning against the island right next to me. He grabbed one of the bags handing it to me. "If you don't like it, lemme know,"
"You didn't have ta get me anything, Malik," I watched as his face frowned up, making me chuckle a bit. "But I think I'll like anything you give me,"
"Nigga, let's stop playin' the humble game and just open yo damn gift," he rolled his eyes.
"Sorry, baby, cut me some slack it's my birthday," I teased him and he playfully pushed me, shoving the bag into my hand. I reached into the bag, pulling out a small box that read Yves Saint Laurent. A smile instantly appeared on my face, thinking that I knew what was in the box.
