Eternal Fantasies (FTM x Fem)

Chapter Eleven

ZAMIRA

Ten minutes of venting to Raziel and five minutes embracing his delicious lips, and I'm reminded: I am that bitch.

Jazz will apologize whenever she gets over herself, but it may shock her when her pleas go unaccepted. Arguments and blowouts aren't new to us, but they also shouldn't be this common. I'd never resurface someone's past as a cheap shot, especially if it's an instance someone couldn't control. I've faced sick and twisted circumstances that would make another person's mind melt, yet I continue to thrive. Grace, hope, and confidence infuse my stroll as if I've only ever experienced the vivifying scent of roses. If I don't allow it, my history cannot influence how blessed my future can be. Will be.

Since I don't permit my trauma to control how I traverse life, my loved ones shouldn't judge me and my reactions based on it. Jazz performed a low blow. I'll need more than an "I'm sorry, sis" after this one. She may think I'm "doing too much," and Flori and Ari might believe I'm being harsh, but there's zero space for the slightest negativity in where I'm heading. Either she's gonna be a constant friend, an enemy, or a stranger who happens to be the man I'm fucking's sister.

Touring with a bunch of queer people means news travels faster than a surprise Beyoncé drop. My dancers rally around me like troops when I enter our rehearsal space. Yaya and Monty stand in the front line, waiting for orders, ready to attack the first person I point to. "What pussy ass hoe do I need to stomp out in my size fours, sis?" Yaya asks, her Memphis drawl laid on thick.

"And while she's stomping on them with her size fours, I'll claw their asses with these Wolverine press-on nails," Monty adds without drawing a breath.

"Y'all are a mess." I emit airy giggles, striving to reduce the rising animosity. The background singers are off in the corner, doing vocal warm-ups. They probably can't hear us over Eve's piercing, off-pitch singing, but I prefer to avoid any further mess tonight. "There are no issues. A bad bitch got in her emotions. But she has since returned to Baddie World. And she's ready to slay the stage with her baddie crew."

With my tongue sticking out, I sway my knotless Senegalese twists as my dancers shout Ice Spice lyrics. We almost commence a twerking session, but the responsible leader in me takes over. Thanks to my spat with Jazz, time is not on our side; we need to stretch and get prepared for the show.

As we sprawl out on the floor, releasing tension from our bodies and indulging in animated conversation, the atmosphere progressively lightens with each burst of laughter.

Our silliness dissolves when a throat clears behind me. My Spidey senses prick up, alert to the sudden sinister shift in energy. Before I even gaze at the dainty figure standing behind me in the mirrored wall, I'm already annoyed.

"Can you guys keep it down?" Eve asks, her question resembling a sentence.

I manufacture a kind smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize we were loud?" I respond, bashing my eyelashes.

"Well, either you lack self-awareness or have selective hearing because we can barely hear ourselves over y'all."

I sneer and turn my head to get a good view of her audaciousness. "My self-awareness game is on a level you'll never comprehend, honey." I adopt a Southern pleasantry in my tone despite not having any affinity for the hussy. I'll never understand how Raz crawled inside her and planted his precious seed.

Eve sucks her teeth, her arms crossing tighter as she stares down at me. I stand so she doesn't have to strain her neck. Now, she can say whatever's in her bird brain to my face.

Once we're standing adjacent to each other, an arm-length away, I add, "We're always this loud while y'all warm up. We've been coexisting without any complaints. Now, it's suddenly a problem?"