𝑮𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒐 • 𝒮𝓎𝓂𝓅𝒽𝑜𝓃𝓎 •

𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

"For your eyes, do you understand? For your eyes only."
- J. Cole

I was lying in my bed, constantly checking the time, thinking about life stuff in general. After Alicia went home, I tidied up the room, took a shower and crashed. Tired wasn't even enough to explain how I felt at the time.

I also noticed that the more I disliked Rocky, the more he would roll around my head. I couldn't figure out why; maybe be intrigued me for reasons I never understood, because he was the unknown, something I haven't yet encountered.

Maybe him teasing me about classical music and all was just a game; something to get my attention.
Boys usually do that.

I tried to fall asleep; I had an early morning practice the next day.

💎

Swaying my hands never seemed so tough. They were all heavy and I knew that exhaustion was coming after me. I slept bad; had an intense dream and not the good kind. It happens whenever I'm stressed or preoccupied with something; important or not.

"Shit." I cussed to myself, angrily stomping with my right foot out of frustration.

"Quitting ain't gonna solve anything." I heard a voice say. Only the first few rows of seats were illuminated by lighting so I didn't see who it was, until he stepped forward. Surprise, surprise.

I chuckled and bent down to fix my shoes.
"I'm not quitting."

"Prove it." He said, standing at the stage, looking up at me. Oh, Rocky.

I rolled my eyes and repeated the first part of the routine, trying my best to hold balance.

"See, you got this baby." There it was, the word he so easily tosses around; baby.

"What are you even doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with your homies?"

He chuckled, climbing up on the stage with me.

"Thought I could show you some moves, ya know." He stuck his tongue out and did this hip hop two-step move I've only seen in movies; you know, like Step Up and stuff.

I was all awkward and stiff, standing there, watching him move. I could understand a tiny part of what he's about.

"Nice. But I'm pretty sure you can't do this."
I did a double turn pirouette.

The look in his eyes was different from the other times I've seem him gawking at me like a braindead child. He was impressed; genuinely.

"You know I can't do that shit." He chuckled.

He called it shit; I mean just when I think oh, he might not be as bad as it seemed, he goes and proves me wrong. I automatically rolled my eyes.

"What?" He played coy with me.

"I don't think you know the amount of hard work and training that go into this." I sternly said.

"Excuse me?" He shot me that weird look.

"This is my life, something I want to pursue professionally and you just keep mocking me whenever you get the chance." I complained.

He scoffed.
"And you don't?"

"I beg your pardon?" I couldn't believe it; he was doing that reverse psychology bullshit.

"Yeah. Ever since you first looked at me, you acting like you better than me."

I gasped quietly, staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Don't act all shocked, Miss academy princess."

"Are you kidding me right now, is this a joke?" I was getting a little irritated.

"Look like that to you?" He said, eyeing me from top to bottom. I felt like someone was watching me under a magnifying glass, it was super uncomfortable. I was used to constructive criticism but this was just different.

"I know what guys like you want..."

I couldn't even finish my sentence because he cut me off.

"There it is... guys like me. What's that even mean?"

"You know what it means; acting all ghetto and stuff." I quieted down. Maybe I wasn't being as nice as I should be.

"I was raised in the hood and I still live there, so there, is that what you wanted to hear?" I didn't reply. "Not everyone has it like you. Some of us are on our own to figure shit out."

He jumped off the stage, heading out.

"I'm sorry!" I low key yelled after him.

"See you around prima." He yelled back, raising his hand, walking away.

He made me feel like the worst person in the world and maybe I deserved it.