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( CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: MAKINGS OF A THUG PT. II ) May, 1993
❝ dev, your hands are cold! ❞
◯
Devon Emmet was having an epiphany. A glorious one too. One that would finally satisfy the creative beast knawing at his stomach. What could possibly govern such excitement? Well, fearlessness. He didn't know much, but the last few days he spent in Harlem were decisive. His home neighbourhood had enthralled him with a new perspective on things.
And when it was time for Devon to leave Harlem, surprisingly, he was met with resistance. Not just from family and friends, but the entire breaking community, who practically lapped and lurked in his shadow during his final days in the city. His last battle was a revelation, a revelation for all those who doubted him—that he was the king of this, and to put it lightly, they better not forget it. The lies, the blackmail and the bad publicity were now all background noise. Noise drained out by Devon's true destiny—to become Dion Break.
It was his calling, he could feel it.
Something had reawakened in Devon Emmet's soul. A spark, which has always flickered in his body ever since his early beginnings as a dancer, was now reimagined into a maddened inferno, scorching with a hunger, begging him to ignore the bad luck and take everything to the next level.
He felt it at the beginning of 1993, when he first told Janet that he loved her, and he still believed it now. He was destined for more. He believed that every lost job was making room for the opportunity of a lifetime. And Devon Emmet had a strong feeling that John Singleton's script led him down that pathway. The only question was, was Devon Emmet willing to take the risk? Was he willing to not only be the hero, but the thug of his own story?
And so, as Devon stood at the oak door of the intricate, Malibu beach mansion, his muscles were feverous with excitement. The young male walked up the wide driveway with his luggage wrapped around his arms, approaching the entrance enthusiastically. Lately, he's been riddled with intense vigour and wild energy, which made his anticipation to see his lover again more... spirited, to say the least.
The last time he was with her, she was devastated. Tortured with sadness at the scandal that had brewed in the tabloids. The possibility of their sex photos being released was like a jackpot for the paparazzi, and a career-ender for both of them. But two days prior, the photos had mysteriously vanished. But it wasn't so mysterious to Devon, who made a deal with the devil to make sure that it goes away.
Now, as Devon stood in front of the door, he felt agitated. He didn't know what would happen the second he sees his girlfriend. Would it be curiosity? Awkwardness? No, Devon should've known better. He should've known that despite being apart for a period of time, they always moulded and melted into one another the second they met again.
