˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
You were one of Hollywood's most prominent actors, landing leading roles left and right, plunging yourself into the soul-sucking void that is the spotlight. When you were nearly five, you were whisked away into a world of twinkling glar...
"Nah nah what'd you put in this? It's so good, c'mon tell me please" He whines as he shakes my shoulder, giving me the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen. I laugh loudly as he rocks me back and forth aggressively, murmuring a small "I got you! I got you nigga, damn!"
"Okay, it's a WHITE mocha with sweet cream and caramel. Don't forget the white mocha, or that's a completely different drink."
"What. The hell. Is a mocha."
We spend the entire car ride talking about different types of coffee, what's in them, the difference between each topping, and that you don't put maple syrup in coffee. By the time we arrived at school, Miles was talking about becoming a barista.
"Yeah aight, barista my ass. First day in five coffee machines gon explode as soon as you touch them." I joke as I pull the room decor from out my trunk. It had sat in my car for about two weeks, as I didn't wanna pack for my dorm last minute. It was primarily sheets, pillow covers, stuffed animals, and posters. I decided on just buying anything else I wanted versus making multiple trips to my house and back.
Miles assisted me with the remaining boxes, rolling his eyes at my joke. "Oh, that's how we feel? Bet. Ima be makin' your coffee every morning one day." He says with a playful scowl, his smile quickly dropping when he realizes just how that sounds. I freeze, giving him the loudest side eye ever with a smug grin and squinted eyes.
"Oh, so you wanna make me my morning coffee? You wanna wake up and make my breakfast too? At least take me on a date nigga." I laugh as I make my way inside the school, waiting patiently for Miles to show me where I get the necessary info I'd need for school. His face contorts to one of slight embarrassment, and genuine fear.
"Nah nah Ian mean it like that chill...The counselor's office is this way!" He murmurs as he takes off in the direction of the office.
I giggle as I skip behind him, holding on to a rather large box labeled 'Art supplies + Decor.' Miles waits outside the office as I talk to the guidance counselor, retrieving my schedule, which had everything written down regarding my dorm on the back, and locker number. I give a small thank you to Ms. Webber before grabbing my things and letting Miles guide me to where the dorms are. It was still really early in the morning, I check my phone to see that It was only 6:55, which I was quite thankful for. I wasn't entirely ready to hear a multitude of loud voices, shouts, gasps, and be bombarded by even anyone who recognized me.
Miles helps me organize my dorm, putting the posters in their corresponding places and helping me brainstorm ideas for decorating the room while also leaving room for my future roommate to branch out with her artistic expression. We finally agree on putting the majority of the posters on the wall next to my bed, and some scattered on the left half of the door. As everything falls into its designated space, I give Miles a small high-five before taking out my phone and snapping a photo of the dorm.
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