𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚 𝐘𝗼𝐮

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘚𝘪𝘹

"Whatchu' mean youn' know?" He asked looking at me, I shrugged. "Yo, dat' shit look good  on you"

"I don't know how I would feel if I did..." I said. "I mean I did research and there's a lot of people who are black that have been mistreated because of their color or their body type and I don't want that"

There were many types of things that came with becoming a model as well as a worker for many companies. I'd noticed that sometimes whether a company or store that was owned by any whites that it was a slight chance of an opportunity working with them as well as some blacks too. It was either you just weren't the right type of body fitting they'd want or it was something about you skin whether you were too dark or not light enough.

I was already becoming comfortable with myself as a person. I could say my body was the most hardest things I had to accept because I wasn't always slim or thick. My skin was something that I loved because it was apart of me along with my body that I was beginning to love—I didn't need anyone telling me that I was fat and that I needed to go on a diet nor did I need any weak arguments that didn't make sense about the color of my skin.

"Dats' understandable but I think you should do mama" Paris said, I looked at him. "I think dis' could be ah' great opportunity fa' you. I feel like it could bring you more attention ta' not just only modelling but it can bring attention ta' yo self and many things you can learn dat' don't got too much attention and bring attention ta' dat"

I nodded my head in agreement as I stood there listening to him. I stared ahead as I kept going back in forth with myself on arguments my head filled up with.

But what if I'm just not the modelling type ?

I can't actually be myself if I model

Or can I ?

"Yo come here" I heard Paris said nodding his head, I made my way back over towards him. I slipped onto his lap as he pulled me towards him by grabbing my thighs. "Why you overthinking it?"

"Because, I—what if I'm not good or what if I can't be myself around other people?" I asked sighing. "It'll get frustrating because I don't wanna get uncomfortable enough for my anxiety to take control of what I want to do"

"You can't think like dat' mama. When you tryna do something, you just gotta do dat' shit and put yo all into it. Yeah, I know where you coming from because it's a lot of shit dat' come wit' working wit' people but you just gotta ignore all da' other shit and focus on yo self. It ain't gone be just rainbows and lollipops off da' bat, you gotta know what you want and make dat' shit happen" Paris said, I smiled as I looked at him and wrapped my arm around his neck. "It's gone be hard but it ain't something you can do, I know dat'. Youn' gotta worry about all dat' other shit because I got you, know dat'. I just need you ta' believe in yo self. Ain't shit you can handle"

I nodded.

"Aight?" He asked looking at me before he pecked my lips, I nodded. "Good, now go put some more shit on. Time ta' go practice now"

I lifted myself up from his lap before I quickly jumped feeling a hard slap go across my butt followed by a heating sensation. "Why would do that, that hurts"

"Dats' a lot more from where dat' shit came from" Paris said biting his lips, I eyed him. "Wit' yo fine ass"

I giggled and shook my head.

•••

"Kingston, why are you laying on my feet?" I asked looking down at Kingston as he just laid there. "I'm trying to cook"