Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝So early in my life, I had learned that if you want something, you had better make some noise.❞
― The Late and Great, Malcolm X (song above: Häagen Dazs by Ghetto Sage)
✋SALMA✋
"Friends was a stolen concept," were the five words I heard being said, or rather yelled, from the living room when I came home from class. Dropping my keys on the counter across from the door, I kicked off my shoes and started to remove the scrunchie on my wrist to pull my hair up. Cool air hit the back of my neck, leading me to massage my shoulder. Today was so hot. You wouldn't have known it was mid November if you stepped out into the driveway. I was dying for some nice sweater weather.
"Wait, you mean stolen like the Matrix was? Someone else took credit for the script?"
"No, it wasn't the script they took."
"What was it?"
"It was the idea. There was already a show about six single adults living in New York, living their lives on the same damn network. And the outline of the characters was stolen. There was a hippy and slow-minded girl, a spoiled brat who's a buyer for a boutique, a dimwit male character who has comical moments, and two almost lovers who couldn't work out because the guy was too nervous to get with his dream girl. And through the whole show, the friends hook up with each other."
"Damn, that's Friends."
"No, that's Living Single." They corrected. "It came out a year before. The network saw the popularity and wanted to release the same idea, but with an entirely white cast instead of an entirely black cast like it was for Living Single."
I turned the corner, I saw Ziyan and Jamal sitting in front of the television. Did he ever go home? I had seen him stop by numerous times this week, being spotted more than Scott.
"Why are you guys shouting?" I asked.
"I'm trying to not watch a copycat sitcom," Jamal proclaimed, snatching for the remote. "It isn't even funny. Remove the laugh track and that show is oddly disturbing."
"All the shows back then had that. You can't hate them for that set up."
"I'm not watching it!"
I rolled my eyes, leaving the two to fight and went to the kitchen.
My throat was scratchy, feeling my allergies acting up. The seasons were changing more drastically, growing cold each day and raining nonstop. Whenever the seasons shifted, my nose and throat reacted negatively. I was praying it was only my allergies and not a cold coming. There was a nasty flu taking over the campus.
