imarni calàis' passion for music is deeper than the waters in the atlantic. she spends more time writing songs than she does watching football - 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴.
it's rare anything surpasses her love for the sport...
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❝NO— IMARNI.❞
i peer at kelis through the rearview mirror and catch her mid-facepalm.
as she slowly removes her hand, i watch the split-second irritation pass. her tightly shut eyes reopen and her clenched jaw relaxes.
she's so dramatic.
when her eyes are set on me again, she sighs, and utters a, "do it again."
i scoff as my face automatically scrunches up, "have you lost it? i've done it a thousand times."
"and you've managed to fuck up at least once every single time."
i take my hands off the steering wheel and throw them onto my lap in frustration.
"well, how was i meant to know there's levels to this? here's me, chilling, thinking i'm just gonna be driving people 'round for a couple hours. but, no— i'm getting lessons on common courtesy."
she shrugs, "it's the bare minimum."
"and it's making me sound like a solicitor or something! i'm just imarni from the estate."
"listen to you talking about estate like say you don't live in a massive ass mansion-like house." she laughs, unable to keep up a tough facade any longer.
"i'm talking about roots, man." i chuckle.
"well, imarni from the estate, you still have to promote the company. and if it means sounding like a solicitor then so be it."
"you're moving like one primary school teacher."
"just do it again." she sighs.
"yes, miss lopez." i salute, placing my hands back on the steering wheel.
she lets out a chuckle as she shakes her head, "and actually greet me this time, yeah?"
"what, so you're telling me that i didn't greet you just then?"
"marns, fam. you mumbling 'hey' without even looking back isn't exactly a proper greeting."
"it's not like i'm gonna fucking turn and shake their hands."
"course not, you doughnut. but eye contact is key. you gotta make sure you know who you're sitting in the car with."
"ain't that what the mirrors are for?"
she repeatedly bangs her head against the seat in front of her and then when she stops, lets out a scream.
so, so dramatic.
"just do it!"
i groan, "first it was give them a whole introductory to uber black. now i'm hearing you've got to turn around and look at them as you do so? not even as you're driving the car so it can make it less awkward?"
