This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
She slams her book closed.
De's eyes slowly narrow out of confusion. Furrowed brows of his accompany his emotions as he silently watches his best friend fall into a whirlpool of despair. His gut suggests he continues watching from afar for the time being. She bites down on her quivering lip, staring down at the smallest speckle of debris in the carpet beneath her that the naked eye can spot. De shifts in his seat, still focusing on her bodily motions as he contemplates on whether or not to interfere with whatever it is that she's got going on in her mind. It is not until her tear-ducts tragically fail her and leakage begins to seep through her closed eyes that he feels the need to step in.
"Chey!"
With a quick turn of the head, Cheyenne faces the opposing direction. "What, De?"
"Yo', you cryin'?"
A wave of pure shame flushes itself through Cheyenne's system. She's got a reputation to think about before she gets to having mental breakdowns in public. Whether it be in front of her best friend or her entire Creative Writing class. Sometimes, she cannot help it. She's an artist and she is sensitive about her shit. There is no crying in writing. When urges of the such creep up on her, she usually finds some kind of way to escape the bothersome feelings. Today, it is not working in her favor.
Cheyenne's head aggressively shakes. "No, I'm not!"
He smacks his lips. "You lyin'."
Friends since the fifth grade is what these two are. Both packed up their suitcases the moments UCLA threw scholarships in the both of their directions. A journalism degree for her and a musical composition degree for him. The same pair of best friends that made sure they both were assigned rooms in the same co-ed hall on the same floor. They'd promised the other's parents that they'd take care of each other and they do. They take very good care of one another. Besides, they've got no one to run to during their moments of wanting to drop out of school. Neither has a lick of family in California.
De rises from his seat, hands resting in the pockets of his black hoodie. Cheyenne stands up in the same exact moment to pick up her book before shoving it into her bag within an instant. Naturally knowing where she goes whenever she wishes to be alone, De is in no rush to follow her. He casually squats down and picks up his only two items that he'd came with: His walkman and his favorite notebook.
Strutting down out of the library, De makes it a habit to wink at the librarian's assistant upon his exit. He's got a smooth stride that showcases all of the pride he takes in himself. He's got a big ego and everybody knows it simply by the slight lean in his walk. Those damn arts majors. Everybody thinks they're a Stevie Wonder, Denzel Washington, or Van Gogh. Not so much De, he only carries the attitude. Beneath the façade is the humblest of all beings. This same humble being is on his way to the west wing stairway.
De slithers past Cheyenne and sits on the staircase above the plateau that she stands in. By now, she's crying. "What's wrong?"
