"See you tomorrow, Crawford," Xavion's supervisor, Adam waved as he finally left the warehouse after his shift. Xavion waved back, hopping in his car, leaning his head on the steering wheel. Days like this, he wished he could just go back to his apartment and sleep the rest of the day off.
But there was work to be done.
He made the 45 minute drive back to his apartment, immediately going upstairs to escape the brisk cold Chicago air. It was January, the 2nd to be exact, New Years had just passed and he was back to business as usual—not like anything was different for him anyway.
He changed from his uniform into a nike sweatsuit, throwing his hood over his head and slipping his feet into his shoes, putting on a jacket, and exiting right back out the door.
Every day, Xavion followed the same routine, he ran 6 miles, three on his route, and three back. The sun hadn't risen yet, it was dawn. His favorite part of his runs was always seeing the sun rise with him.
Chicago was rarely quiet, and so at 5:30 in the morning, he took the time to appreciate the slightly peaceful atmosphere as the city began to wake up.
After his six miles, he got right back in his 2007 Honda Accord, cruising toward the gym. He was always early there, just to relax for an hour before he had to start right back up again.
As he pulled in, he noticed Ant's car was parked in his designated space, which caused him to throw his head back onto his headrest, letting out a short sight.
So much for his hour.
Today was Monday, so he had strength training for two hours straight, and ended off his workout with mitt training, which he was currently doing.
"Hands up," Ant called to him again. "Think faster than you move, don't give it away," he instructed, as Xavion danced around him, ducking and dodging the mitts being thrown his way. He was analytical in the ring, he watched before he acted.
This typically gave him somewhat of an upper hand, at least in his most recent matches, it seemed as his opponents threw gloves at his head without thinking.
"Watch me, don't take your eyes off me," Ant cut through his thoughts. He did just that, refocusing. Once he was completely focused, and 'in his zone' as Ant put it, it was hard to predict his next move, his next step.
The sounds drowned out around him, his vision tunneled as if he had on blinders and the only thing in front of him was his opponent. His only thoughts were of what's next, never thinking back on what was done.
He tapped the mitts with precision, no matter where Ant's hands moved, his hands followed. He ducked another hit, dodged another, and threw punches back at the same speed.
"That's time!" they both heard as a bell sounded, and Xav backed away from Ant, taking a short breath. Xav looked around, seeing the younger boys watching him, As they did most days. "Nigga was givin' us a show," the oldest of them, Kyle smirked.
"Man quit," Xavion chuckled lowly, waving him off.
"When he go pro, we finna be watchin' PrimeTime on primetime, feel me?" one of the other boys gassed him. He had been called PrimeTime in the ring since he was 10 years old, he was known for entertaining, even though he didn't mean to. Watching him in the ring was like watching a movie.
"Gone wit' allat," Xavion laughed, remaining humble as he always did. Let these kids tell it he had every reason in the world to brag and boast, but he never did. He let them do it for him, he always let his work speak for him.
"G, when you gon' come round and train us," Tyson, the youngest boy asked, as Xavion exited the ring, heading to his locker so he could go home. He was exhausted and all he wanted was to be in bed.
"When yo' progress report and yo' report card don't look like shit," he said seriously. Although Xavion didn't go to college, he still felt that good grades and education were extremely important, and he he knew a lot of these boys didn't take school seriously. He acted that way for a year in middle school and his mother snatched him out of the gym faster than he could blink.
"Man, them damn teachers don't be fuckin' wit me, Tyson sucked his teeth.
"Well, start doin' yo damn work maybe they would," he smarted back, shutting his locker. "Come back to me wit' honor roll, we gon see," he lightly tapped Tyson's chest. "Ant, Ima head out,"
"Aight, good work today, don't forget Saturday," he pointed.
"I couldn't if I tried," he chuckled, pushing the door open and headed back to his car. Before he could even start it, his mom texted him.
Mama: hey sweetie, could you grab Dymond from school later on?
: yeah I gotchu ma
Mama: thank you honey! Love you ♥️
: I love you too ma
He was glad it was only 8:30, he could shower and sleep until his sister got off school, where all those boys were running to right about now. He shook his head, they always did this. Came to the gym early and made themselves unnecessarily late for school just to get some time in the ring.
They reminded him so much of himself.
As a teenager boxing was his sole focus. He didn't care about school, or college or anything else he just wanted to box. As he got older of course he gained more responsibility and put his life into perspective, but he could see himself all throughout those boys.
He figured that's why Ant and the other trainers said they look up to him. He was them, and they knew it, they'd watched him grow and sometimes he felt like they knew him better than he knew himself.
When he arrived back at his apartment, he wasted absolutely no time finally scrubbing his long morning down the drain. This was his favorite part of the day, a scorching shower and an unnecessarily long nap, he felt he deserved every minute of sleep he got, and he would not waste it.
At 1:45, Xavion was back out of the door. He wanted to be on time to pick his little sister up from school, so he could take her out to eat before he took her home. He hadn't seen her in a few days, and he was missing her a bit, although she tap danced on his nerves daily through text.
He pulled up to Dymond's school exactly at 2:15, as kids started flooding the stairs. He sent her a message to let her know he was there and no more than two minutes later she was hopping in his front seat.
"Wassup Dy?" he asked.
"Hey, Xavi," she spoke, with a slight smile.
"You good?" he raised his eyebrows. She was usually way more vivacious, and full of energy.
"Just tired, I had a midterm and I was up late studying with Yas," she informed him and he nodded before pulling off and taking her to their favorite place to get food fast.
"You want a pizza puff or sum?" he looked over at her and she smiled big. "Ol' hungry ass girl," he chuckled and she smacked his arm.
"You know daddy been watching what I eat?" she curled her lip up at the thought.
"Fa' what? You back in cheer or sum?" he wondered. She was by no means overweight or unhealthy, but when she cheered or played softball, their father magically turned into a dietitian.
"No, softball conditioning starts in February, so he figures I need to stop eating junk food," she huffed. "Mama sneaks me snacks like I'm a slave," she shook her head. "He acts like my blood sugar is just—not a thing,"
"That's my issue, the hell. I'a talk to him, that's stupid" he shook his head. His little sister was his pride and joy. Although he wasn't the oldest, they're nearly 10 years apart and when she was born he fell in love. Dymond was diagnosed with type two diabetes when she was 8, and he learned the disease inside out to help her manage as a 18 year old boy. He helped her learn that diabetes looked different on everyone, there was no 'one look' to a diabetic person.
Although Dynond was skinner now, as a child she wasn't. He had a preconceived notion as to why she had diabetes until he educated himself. She dropped weight fast when she got diagnosed and it confused him, so he took it upon himself to learn.
"Don't get all worked up, you know he's stubborn," she waved him off. "Anyway, what time is your match Saturday?" she asked excitedly. His sisters and mom were always front row at his matches, it made him happy to look out and see them.
"8:00, I'll send y'all the address,"
"Bet, Dessy say she gon bring Skylar so don't get bloody," she teased.
"I'll try," he chuckled.
Once he took Dymond home, he decided he'd stay around to see his mother. The house was dead silent as usual, and they both knew where she was.
Once he and his sister reached the backyard, he tapped his mom's shoulder and she turned around, smiling wide at seeing her son's face.
"Hi baby!" she signed, giving him a hug.
"Hey mama, how are you?" he signed back to her when she let him go. "You look beautiful,"
"Thank you, son. I'm doing good," she grinned. His mother was deaf, she was born that way. He knew ASL before he could talk since everyone in the house signed to his mother. As a kid, he didn't understand sometimes why his mom didn't talk or why he had to sign, but he loved to do it, he would sign in school, to his teachers and all of his friends—although some of them made fun of him for it. He never cared.
Dymond was also deaf—but only partially at first. She was born deaf in her right ear, and began losing hearing in her left ear at 6 and over the past years it just began to get progressively worse until she lost it completely. She was now completely deaf in both ears.
She signed like everyone else, and had a cochlear implant. She'd much rather sign than speak, just like her brother. Xavion wasn't deaf at all, but growing up in a household where speaking was rare, he developed a very quiet disposition, he enjoyed the silence.
"Mommy, I'm gonna take a nap," Dymond signed to her, and their mother—Selena, could see the exhaustion in her daughter's face. "Bye brother," she signed to him as well, waving before running upstairs.
"Mama, she's probably tired because your husband is starving her," he rolled his eyes.
"She's not starving, I wouldn't let her," she shook her head. "He watches what she's eating but I never allow him to stop her from doing so, he can't do that to her," she rolled her eyes as well and Xavi felt like he was looking in a mirror.
"Well, good," he nodded. "Have you talked to Desireè?" he asked her.
"This morning," his mother made him aware. "Skylar's third birthday is soon, so she was telling me party details," she explained.
He stayed at his mom's house for about another hour, before he decided to go home and get some rest before his shift at 7. He worked from 7 P.M. to 4 A.M. every day, and while it was exhausting and physically taxing, he had bills to pay and food to buy.
Hopefully his hard work would reward all of this sacrifice one day.
"Girl I'm tired as hell," Sahara—Emari's best friend whined. The elevator descended and Emari nodded in agreement, being just as tired.
"Me too. But! Good news, Dr. Robinson is letting me come in late tomorrow so I can deliver the strawberries and cake pops to his wife for her birthday," she nodded.
"Lucky," Sahara groaned. "These kids really know how to tire a bitch out," she chuckled. Both Emari and her best friend worked as Medical Assistants in the same private pediatric practice in downtown Chicago. They worked under two different doctors, Dr. Robinson and Dr. Franklin, who both worked with kids from infancy all the way to eighteen.
"Lucky whom? Girl I gotta make all these cake pops and do the strawberries. I know my niece is over too, the house is gonna be so loud," she sighed in her small voice. Emari preferred quiet, and having four siblings, and two nieces and nephews, she rarely got it.
"Well don't work yourself too hard, boo. You need me to take you to the L?" she asked her friend as the exited the building, tightening their coats around their bodies in the bitter January wind.
"I can walk it's only—"
"Girl, hush. It's too cold fa' you to be walkin'," she waved her off, leading Emari to her 2018 Hyundai Sonata.
As soon as they got in, Sahara blasted the heat, in an attempt to warm them up as fast as possible. These last few days, Emari's car had been in the shop, as her parents were trying to teach her youngest sister to drive in it—and it hadn't really gone well. Luckily her father would pay for the repairs, because she surely wouldn't.
"See you tomorrow! Save me some strawberries babe," Sahara grinned as she dropped her friend off.
"I'll make an extra batch just fa' you," Emari smiled slightly, sticking her headphones in her ear to drown out the sounds of the city as she made her commute. Her train ride wasn't long, but it always gave her the perfect opportunity to decompress from her day before she was thrown back into her loud house.
She had been saving for a while to try and afford a small apartment to herself, not far from her family, but some place she could call hers, where she could work on her business in peace and simply have peace.
Emari loved her parents and all four of her siblings, but she also loved having her own space, and her own bathroom. At twenty four, sharing a bathroom with a sixteen year old who liked taking hour long showers was slightly infuriating.
But, she had faith in herself. She knew even though her parents complained about her leaving them, they had faith in her too.
"Hey Blaire bear," Emari's youngest sister, Mycah greeted with a smile.
"Hi My pie," she smirked. "Had a good day?"
"Yep, school was annoying, midterms are here but since I'm a genius—it wasn't all that bad," she shrugged.
"That's good, boo," she laughed. "Where's—" as she was about to ask where her niece was, she heard two pairs of feet running toward them. "Tariq brought his son too?" she looked at Micah and she nodded with a short laugh.
"Tete Moo!" Samaria hollered. "You home! Whea' you been?" the four year old perched her hand on her hip, acting just like her mother, Emari's oldest sister Jaida.
"She was mindin' her business Sam," her nephew, Tariq mushed her little head.
"Hands to yourself," she pointed at him and he innocently snatched it back with a smile. She shook her head, pressing a kiss to both of their foreheads before going upstairs to greet her mom. She knocked at the door and she told her to come in.
"Hey Mookie," her mom called her by one of her million nicknames. Mookie was the one that stuck most, all of her siblings had nicknames, their first names were rarely used at home.
"Hey ma, I just wanted to let you know I was home," she smiled at her mother who was snuggled up under her blankets.
"Okay, precious. Did you see the kids?"
"Yeah I—" as she began to speak, she heard someone coming toward them.
"Mama! You home?! Oh hey Moo," her older brother—Zion spoke, entering their parents room and occupying the bed with her.
"Buddha get your grown ass out my bed wit' these clothes on," she fussed. He groaned, and Emari knew it was about to be more fussing so she dismissed herself.
It had been that was since she was young. As a middle, she was often overlooked or not given as much attention as she would have liked—especially in her home situation. When Emari was 14, Mycah was diagnosed with Lukemia, at the young age of 6.
Mycah struggled and fought with the disease until she was about 11, when she finally went into remission, thankfully up till now.
From the day she was born—four weeks premature, she was always sickly, and required lots and lots of attention, which Emari knew and completely understood. She loved her baby sister from the time she understood that her mother was pregnant. But, lots of Emari's formative years were spent alone or with her older siblings who were just children themselves.
Emari learned how to figure things out on her own, because when she needed some advice maybe from her parents they were at the hospital, getting Mycah tested, or other important things. . She never blamed them for that, she knew her sister was sick and needed almost all of their parents time—she didn't hold it against them.
It was a fact that, though, that all the while, Emari was left to develop as a young woman. While her older siblings grew they didn't have much time for her, and the time they spent often wasn't one on one, it was bonding all together. She appreciated it and still does, thankful she has such a fantastic relationship with them.
That just happened to he the way her life played out. She wasn't mad at anyone for it.
"Tariq, move. I'm not gon' tell you again," Emari fussed while she melted the pink and white candy melts in a double boiler. The theme was floral Dr. Robinson's wife.
In her spare time, Emari loved to bake. For some odd reason as a kid, baking and gardening with her grandmother were activities in which she found comfort. So, when she got to high school, she decided to capitalize on it. She decorated cakes beautifully, she was artistic and knew how to make food look pretty, as well as taste delicious.
It started with her parents coworkers, and their families for big events like birthdays or small celebrations for promotions. Then her classmates, she'd bake cake pops for girl's birthday's in school, she always made cupcakes for Teacher Appreciation, and she slowly started marketing herself until now at 24, she was booked more often than not.
Medical assisting was still her full time job but baking and making sweets wasn't an easy job, so most of Emari's down time—true down time, was spent sleeping, or reading. She truly did enjoy her quiet time and relaxing activities.
"But Tete Moo, I'm hungry," he whined. He had been begging her for strawberries for an hour now.
"Where's your daddy, you doin' a lot. You just ate, TJ," she shook her head, giving him a piece of fruit she had yet to dip. "What do you say, little boy?"
"Thank you, Auntie," he cheesed, flagging her down for a kiss, which she let him give. Her nephew at the moment was seven years old and had the biggest heart when he wasn't pushing his little cousin around. He was just like his father, Tariq Sr.
"Lola! Tete gave me food!" he yelled, and she rubbed her temples between her fingers, knowing the little one was to follow. Samaria—her four year old niece was a lot like her mom, very full of personality and lots of sass. She was quick to talk back to her cousin, she wouldn't to adults.
At least not to their faces. But Sassy always had a lot to say.
"Ma!" she heard two voices call at the front door. Tariq and Jaida had just came in, probably to pick their kids up. "It smell good as fu—oh wassup, Moo?" Riq smiled at his baby sister, throwing an arm around her shoulders.
"Hi, Bean. How are you?"
"I'm good, babygirl. How long you been workin'?" he wondered as Jaida followed him into the kitchen, giving Emari a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey baby sister," she cheesed, looking around at all the food.
"Hi, Tweety. But I been in here for just forty five minutes, TJ was just here, he probably hiding from you," she snickered.
"Mookie Moo! You saved some for your old man?" she heard her father's voice.
This is exactly why she needed her own apartment.
welcome to To The Sky!
i hope y'all enjoyed my lil introooo! i know its a little boring rn but it wont be for long lol.
i know i ALWAYS say this but i think y'all are gonna like this one :) for now—until Show Me is done, updates will be VERY slow lol.
but let's chat! leave me some thoughts on our characters!
- xavion?
-emari?
- their home situations?
this story is based in chicagoooooo! all my chicago readers say hi! drop something native that you wanna see me use 😂 ik a little bit but not too much.
ik its not too much but if you had a favorite part, please drop that here yall know its my fav question now lol.
thank y'all so much for supporting me and getting excited about this even tho you didn't know what it was about lol. ilysm
last but not least this chapter is dedicated to WrittenbyAB ! she was a huge inspiration for this story to even come about so thank you so much bby ily 🥺♥️
but anyway! i hope y'all enjoyed this! till next time babies 💕