3. I care

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January 24th, 1993
Harlem, New York

The Cecil Steakhouse

The Cecil Steakhouse

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Emoni,

Here I was, having an amazing dinner at an amazing restaurant, with an amazing person. Birdie and I have been spending a lot of time together lately and let's just say, that I've been having the best time of my young life.

I've never been this happy before. Ya know, growing up being the only child and all. I never had anybody to talk to and being that my parents were always working, I had no choice but to keep my emotions to myself.

I didn't have any friends either, because of how wealthy of a family I came from. They were either jealous of me or just wanted to be my friend because I had the money. It made me feel bad, I felt like I was by myself.

I became super lonely.

But I feel different with Birdie, I don't know, maybe it's just because he doesn't know anything about me yet, but I still feel like that wouldn't change our relationship. He knows what it's like to be wealthy, just like I was growing up.

But I just didn't have to work for mine. Well, in a way he didn't have to work for his either.

"You come here a lot?" he questioned.

"No, I never been." I said, eating a piece of my cut steak.

He kissed his teeth. "You from Harlem and you've never been to one of the best steak house's in the city?"

"Well, i'm actually not from Harlem. I'm from Beverly Hills."

"How the fuck you end up here?" he asked me, looking entitled for my answer.

"Let's just say, my parents didn't wanna parent anymore."

He shook his head, cutting a rather big piece of steak shoving it into mouth before speaking, "That's fucked up."

"No, no," I sighed. "It wasn't like that."

"How else can somebody leave their kid?"

"They didn't leave me, I was 18. My mom got sick of me living off of my dad's money," I sighed. "So here I am."

"Well, that's how you made it sound." he said, cutting his steak.

"Well, I didn't mean to." I said.

He plain faced me. "Anyway. Do you like it here?" he asked changing the subject.

I smiled. "Yeah it's nice."

"Yeah me too. I used to come here all the time. Of course I ain't have no money," he shook his head. "But somebody would always buy me something."

"That's because you were a kid," I said, chewing my food.

"In Harlem that don't matter." he said to me.

I shook my head. "That's messed up."

"You can tell your not from here."

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