Banksy

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Chapter 1

Tired.

Undone.

That concert had me worn down to the bone.

It was an all age concert. I loved doing those concerts. I had a broad audience. But the place we were holding the concert became overcrowded once it was discovered we sold out. It made me wonder if Rafa had more tickets made. We were moved into a nearby theater and there we continued.

The audience seemed far bigger than usual. I was tempted to dwell further. But a yawn ripped through and took all the energy from my body before I could.

  Sleep..

7:50 AM

  The screeching of my alarm bolted me awake.

  My hand reached over and knocked the alarm off the stand, causing me to jolt at the clatter. God..

  I grabbed my phone from its charger and headed to the window. My body ached and my muscles screamed for more sleep. I was definitely not complaining about that idea. But I had a day of laziness ahead of me. Pulling the curtain back revealed the searing light of the sun that burned my currently sensitive eyes. Making me hiss.

   I took a picture of the sunrise, using it as a filler for my Twitter post.

daveeddiggs

  Morning y'all. I hate alarm clocks.

  As soon as I posted it, I got likes and retweets and replies. My DMs were spammed with "I love you" and "Marry me!" messages that weirded me out. I headed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Rinsed with mouthwash. Then my phone rang.

  I had two different notification sounds. One for social media. One for actual text messages. It was the text message notification.

  I wiped my face with a towel and tossed it off as soon as I was finished with it. I turned on my phone screen. Texts from Lin, Pippa, Jaz, Ant, Oak. They all definitely caught my attention.

Linnamon Roll: Turn on the news.

Pip Pip: News Diggs, now

Ramos: Yo dawg, have you seen the damn news?

  The notification went off again.

Rafa: Daveed, turn on the goddamn TV.

  I sighed, complying with my friends' demands.

  I walked into my living room, snatching up the remote. Muttering under my breath as I clicked On.

"-hese interesting pieces of art are scattered all over the Upper West Side and 8th and 7th Avenue but avoids Times Square."

  Is that..me?

  The screen displayed pictures and videos of what seemed like grafitti of me. Gorgeous grafitti too. Thomas Jefferson, Lafayette, Johan, me from one of my favorite clippng concerts.

  Lyrics scattered the sidewalks too. Who had the time to do all of this? How did nobody see them?

  New York is the city that never sleeps. Seems like it took a nice nap then someone drew on its face for fun.

  And more importantly, why use me?

  I pondered this as I stared at the screen. This artist gave me publicity. Not as much as Hamilton, but what they put out there was free for all to see. This must've been why there were so many people at the concert yesterday.

  Other than being irritated that my name had been used to deface a large part of New York, I felt honored to be used as this artist's inspiration.

  Deep down, I wanted to meet whoever was behind this beautiful display. Praise them. They helped give me recognition in this single spotlight world. But I knew how street artists were. They had no face. They wanted no face.

  Banksy was one of the most famous street artists and nobody knew what he looked like. Only very few had that luxury.

  I called Rafael, still fathoming what I saw.

  "Is it real? You know the media fucks around."I asked the minute he answered.

  I heard my artistic friend laugh before responding. "Yes, Diggs. It's very real. I went to go check it out myself. And the art is amazing. You should come check it out yourself."

  I thought about it periodically.

  Maybe I should.

  But it was grafitti. While others admired it, I couldn't simply condone an illegal, yet beautiful, action because of the publicity it gave me.

  It wasn't too far. Just a hop and a skip away. I found it coincidental that the grafitti was made while I was in New York. I had already left Hamilton and simply came for the concert.

  Was the artist a stalker?

  Well everyone knew when we'd be here.

  "Diggs? Still there buddy?"

  I made a small noise and looked at my phone screen. Rafa hadn't hung up.

  That's new.

  "I'm coming."

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