velvet paradise (ftm x fem)

Track 38

ALAIA

Guided by Drizz in a universal prayer, my attention slips to my supportive circle, peeking at their bowed heads. My man's firm grip softens on my hand, yet his jaw strengthens its rhythmic chewing, winter-fresh gum tickling my nostrils. The heightened concentration in his chomping serves as a telltale sign—a crucial thought teeters on the edge of oblivion, and he's desperately grappling to retain it. I make a personal commitment to jog his memory if his thoughts neglect him, but I might forget, too, if Pastor Drizz's heavenly plea drags on. Its length brings back memories of being yanked to church as a child, the endless sermons, and backbreaking pews. Drizz's cropped vest and flared pants are the only things keeping me from being triggered.

Clad in wine-red velvet for our debut appearance at the acclaimed Pink Skies festival, the band's rocking 70s-inspired fashion with a contemporary twist. As a collective, we look like a bunch of sexy Black hippies at Woodstock. However, Jaire's kingly aura takes center stage. His form-fitting collared shirt, buttons half-opened, and ass-compressing bell bottoms artfully showcase every physical trait he's endowed with. Over the past hour, I've endeavored to contain my arousal, maintaining a PG-friendly demeanor in front of his parents and brother. I've settled for mid-back rubs and cheek kisses, subtly expressing my admiration while preserving a sense of decorum.

Jaire has been finer than a mechanical pencil since he entered the music industry. Real ones recognized that from day one. However, since the label executive and producer has stepped out of the shadows and embraced the public eye, everyone wants a piece of him. I'm used to folks speaking any kind of way about me, but my partner? Yeah, it's going to take me some time to adjust. Whenever his honeyed personality attracts a buzzing bee, it takes the willpower of a saint not to swat them away. Despite the world falling more in love with Jalaia as our romance sinks in, I'm no fool. Plenty of people would snatch his affection if given the opportunity. Fortunately, loyalty is one of the many values instilled within Jaire.

Drizz is reaching the end of their prayer; at least, I hope they are. I stop trying to find an imperfection in Jaire's facial features and focus on Amor, who's holding my opposite hand. My kouzin's new well-paid gig has her decked out in Chanel. From local news hottie to national thirst trap in the sports entertainment world, fortune radiates on her. Though I'm grateful to have my day-one bitch here, my smile multiplies as I take in her mother, my beloved Auntie Marie.

When a short, brown-skin lady in a black turtleneck, high-waisted jeans, and wild, tousled curls entered our dressing room, I squealed to the highest of pitches—because I thought she was Janet Jackson. Believe it or not, meeting my icon early in my career makes more sense than Auntie taking a four-hour flight. No amount of spiritual protection can change her hatred of flying. I had begged her weeks in advance to come to our first major show, even offering to hire a driver to escort her from New Orleans to Los Angeles. As expected, she said she'd attend "in spirit." She hoodwinked the hell out of me. Here she is, live and in the flesh, looking majestic in her Janet cosplay.

After minutes of praise and gratitude, Drizz finally lets the heavens rest. Jaire rushes to his new cherry red electric guitar. Finding the nearest sofa, he urgently tunes it to perfection. His adorably annoying little brother sits beside him, teasing him about who knows what. With Chance buzzing in his ear, my partner's facial features relax into a smile. The reconnection of Jaire and his mother is wholesome and uplifting. The hilarious sibling spats between him and Renni are to die for. But I adore his connection to Chance and his father the most. As Serenity warned, the trio are similar, only slight variations of each other. They're spontaneous, funny, curious, thoughtful, and protective, the quality of their traits and maturity ranked by their age. The same twinkle in Chance's eyes whenever he has his big brother's attention flickers in Jaire's when his dad regards him. And Dell's kindhearted gaze never loses its tranquility whether viewing his wife, daughter, sons, or even me.