India Manory thinks life in Queens, New York will never change. It's the same routine, same bullshit she has to put up with. But can one faithful month change her whole perspective on life itself?
"Same people, same expectations. There's no room for...
Natural disaster When we love, the world breaks When we love, the bed shakes This world, it says Don't fall in love, it's a mistake But baby, don't be scared 'cause they afraid And know nothing's gon' change but my feelings about you 'Cause love's stronger than it •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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Chris 2 Weeks Later India got up early and decided to come with me to my photo shoot. It surprised me because as you see, India is most definitely not a morning person. I guess she didn't want to be left alone in the house. She seemed really excited to be at the shoot with me though, because every time I glanced at her she had the widest, most adorable smile on her face that went from ear to ear. She was having her own mini photo shoot with me, although I wasn't paying much mind. Her eyes twinkled every time I switched poses. When I was finally finished and changed, I joined her. She was scrolling through the countless amount of photos and videos she took of me, biting her lip and smiling.
"Talk about fan behavior." I joked. She giggled and stood up, getting on her tip toes. I was 6'1 and India was a good 5'5, so she had to stand on her toes to kiss me. I grabbed her chin and kissed her a few times, feeling her smile against my lips.
"What's got you so happy today?" I grabbed her hand as we walked to the exit.
"I just love supporting my man. Also, modeling is something I've always wanted to do. I always loved the idea of being photographed like a piece of artwork. So seeing you do it up close and personal just really gives me that nostalgia of my childhood dreams. Plus you look sexy as hell doing it." She expressed. India was gorgeous man. I could see her being a model, I'm actually surprised that she isn't. I guess "beauty standards" don't go for black girls who aren't skinny as hell. Don't get me wrong, the women are beautiful but I feel as if there shouldn't be a standard for beauty. But hey, what do I know? According to everyone BUT ME, I only prefer blasians with the 3b hair. Crazy how everyone tells me my preference.
"You're a model in my eyes, princess." I told her truthfully. She blushed and smiled, looking away from me. I grabbed her chin and made her look at me.
"I'm serious, India. You're beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." I looked in her eyes. She nodded and pecked my lips.
We decided to walk to the mall and get lunch at the food court. In the mall, a few people recognized us and asked for autographs or pictures. We finally settled on eating Panda Express and got our food. Once we sat down, I could tell something was wrong with India. She kept rubbing her hands on her thighs, which she only does when she's nervous.
"You okay baby?" I asked her as she watched her surroundings, staring at everyone who walked by.
"Yeah. I'm cool." She took a bite of her food. I shrugged and scrolled through my Instagram. I got a notification and opened it.
