Chapter 34 - Slams and Cameras

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                    Mom says that all these decisions are up to me now, that she won't be telling me what to do, only suggesting. Only laying my choices out for me. I tell her that I know my choices but she insists that when they come out of her mouth maybe I will understand them clearly. Flex has taken her side and so it is easy to look about my leave of absence without the pressure of disappointing her, because she says she is already incredibly proud of me. 

I've been running around Harvington from department to department explaining my reason for leaving. Everyone seems supportive, some of the staff even recognized me as soon as I came through the door. A few students have begun to ask for pictures, and the ones who don't ask just stare at me. 

It still confuses me because I really don't consider myself that big of a deal. 

It is my last day on campus and all my things are packed up but before I leave Harvington indefinitely, I stop by the Poetry Slam in a cafe like lounge with dim lights and a full room of students sitting as they watch the feature poet open the show. 

I watch from outside as the large windows spread from ceiling to floor and the feature poet is muffled through the glass. There is no one else outside of the cafe, just a full moon and I. 

He begins a poem called "Finding self" and it is the most beautiful muffled poem I have ever heard because I guess none of us have really found ourselves. I used to think that not knowing exactly who I am or what I want was an attribute of being young but sometimes I feel the adults around me are so much more lost. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder and jump. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you going in?" A short blonde girl with glasses asks. 

She opens the door and motions for me to go first. I step in, now that attention has been brought my way by the door opening. 

I stand at the back and fidget nervously, fearing that I have interrupted the amazing poet but he continues undistributed. He is light skinned and tall with kind eyes and pinkish lips. He looks directly into my eyes as he starts his next poem, ironically called "Girl in the Back".

I feel my face heat up and I look to the side of me to see if he could possibly be talking about anyone else but me. 

I am the only one standing in the direction of his eyes and immediately I shift my gaze to the floor. 

"It isn't a mystery that you push away the ones that realize you need them

And spare me the objection, I know you think that you can do all things by yourself and for yourself 

There is hurt deep in your iris 

Stigmatized by hurt deep in a private place in your mind

A place very few have visited and by few I mean just him and you" 

He performs in a rhythm without rhymes. I look up to see if he is still looking at me and sure enough he is. I sigh deeply and hold his gaze as his words have oddly enough begun to relate to me. 

"You wonder how to say sorry again without saying sorry again." He pauses and I am frozen. 

"You wonder how to say forgive me when you know more than well you aren't suppose to be forgiven.

She stays in the back because it's safe

She stays there because the front is too alarming

Too much attention brought to someone who considers themselves undeserving

The front is too open and she was more of a shut door

And even after all the doors shut he still tried to unlock them

By accident he unlocked the part of her that loves 

And when she fell, he caught her and that was alarming in itself 

He unlocked trust and she trusted him with her life 

He unlocked her mind before he unlocked her legs

He unlocked her mind before he unlocked her legs 

Mind before legs

Mind before legs

And she loved how he was forward moving

Because he pushed her forward 

And she loved how he put her first, because that was how he treated the ladies in his family

And she loved how his love was up FRONT and CENTER 

She loved everything about the man in the front 

And he hoped that maybe one day she would drop her pain and baggage and join him." 

He finishes and I notice I had stopped breathing for a few seconds. 

The audience claps and the noise brings me back to earth and I clap in time with them as his gaze shifts from me. 

"That's my time. My name is Issac, thank you. Thank you for having me Harvington University." Issac walks off of the stage to his applause and stands to the side of the room as the other poet goes up. I do not realize my feet moving or even thinking about heading to him but in seconds I am right in front of him. I want to ask him if he was speaking to me. If he knew my situation. If he was a magician.

"Your poems are amazing." Is all that comes out. 

He smiles. "Thank you." He sticks out a hand and I shake it nervously. 

"Chanel." I say. 

"You look so familiar." He squints looking at my face closely. 

I turn away and look at the poet up on stage. 

"I have a familiar kind of face." I laugh it off hoping he wouldn't realize any time soon that I was Atlantic Records new artist. Right now I just wanted to be a regular fan sharing a personal moment. 

"Are you a poet?" He asks. I look at him momentarily. 

"Yea." I answer. 

"Have you performed in the city before?" He asks still squinting. I take a sigh of relief. 

"Yea, I was performing in the city a few months ago before.. before I got accepted here." I finish, censoring myself. 

"Yea.." He says pointing at me. "You performed a poem I loved, 'Worth it?'" Issac questions slowly, not wanting to get it wrong. 

I laugh. "Worthy! Yea. I can't believe you remember that." I say. 

"What? You're over here complimenting me when you are remarkable." He looks me up and down shocked and I fan him off. 

"I'm alright. I love your work." I say again. 

"Are you performing tonight? You can just sign the paper." He says pointing to the opposite side of the room. 

I shake my head a few times. "No, not tonight. I just came to watch." 

"Then maybe next Thursday." He says. 

"I'm leaving the school." I shrug awkwardly. 

He pauses with wide eyes. "Even more reason to perform tonight then." 

He motions for the short blonde girl that escorted me in to give him the sign up sheet and she dips past the poet performing and brings him the list. He signs my name on and immediately I am more than happy to be on stage doing poetry again just for a night. 

Issac and I speak, mostly about him and his college tour for poetry. I thought about it briefly and realized I would love to go on tour performing my poetry. I can't decide if I would want to perform poetry more than I would want to sing and rap. Maybe for the moment they are tied, but poetry will always be my comfort zone.

They finally call my name and I set my water down by Issac's foot and go up on stage. 

Issac wishes me good luck and I find that I am more nervous about him being in the audience than I am about performing at my school for the first time. 

I take the mic and look out at all the eyes staring back at me. I take a deep breath and begin. 

Performing old poems  bring me so much happiness that I almost can't contain myself on stage. I know them like the  back of my hand, I know the impact they have on the audience because I've done them countless times, and I know the reaction and laughing or snapping points. 

As I finish my poem the audience roars in applause and I smile and say Thank You before heading off. 

Another student performs his poem after me and then the event ends. 

As I am speaking to Issac, a guy and a girl come up to me with blank pages on their notebooks. 

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation but can we just have your autograph really quick." The girl says.

Issac looks at me with a confused smile on his lips. 

"Sure." I say nicely. I sign both of their books and hand it back. 

Before I can turn back to Issac a few more students ask for pictures. 

Soon the entire lounge seems to be on top of me, pens and cameras being stuck into my face, cameras snapping. 

"Woah, woah. Ok hold on guys." I say politely as a crowded circle forms around me. The people to my right side push the crowd towards me and I stumble to the side, into another mass of phones for selfies. 

It is too much all at once and I look around swiftly and Issac has disappeared. 

I take another selfie with a patient student, only to have the crowd on my left being pushed, which causes me to stumble over again. 

"Chanel can I have an autograph, pleaseee." Someone sings through the crowd. I look around frantically, trying to find the face to match the voice and then someone else yells opposite the first sound. It echos all around me. 

"Okay! Everybody back up a little!" I hear a strong and familiar voice. 

Some of the people disperse but around me is still crowded. 

"Back up off of her! Come on!" The authoritative voice yells over the crowd. 

They do as told and Devin pulls me in front of him and walks me to the exit of the cafe. 

I straighten my clothes a little shocked at the chaos. 

"Thank you."I say to Devin who walks with me back to my dorm. 

"You need body guards." He mumbles angered at the people, his face seeming frustrated. 

It takes me a moment to recover and then I begin laughing. 

He looks at me with a light smile as my laughing turns into loud cackling. 

"That was insane!" I say excited. "Did you see that? They almost trampled me for pictures!" 

Devin laughs briefly. "That's not funny, you really do need some kind of protection now." 

I rub my head still smiling. 

"Yea i'll tell Mac." I say. 

"Wow." I breathe out. 


------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

"Woah. This place is so much nicer than our dorm!" Kelly Shrieks as she places my last box on well polished wooden floors in the kitchen. 

I look around surprised. 

The entire apartment, apart from the bedroom, was covered in beautiful wooden floors and marble. The kitchen was absolutely beautiful with counters and a silver stove. The one bedroom was spacious and carpeted with a pure white and fluffy carpet. The bed already had on my brown bed spread which did not match the price this apartment might have been. The bathroom was standard apart from the large shower and decorative pictures. 

The living room was medium sized with a big screen TV and large couch that took up half of it. 

"Yea, it's really nice." I admired. 

I plump down into the couch and Kelly joins me. She pouts and makes puppy dog eyes. 

"Well this sucks." She sighs. 

I look at her and open my arms. 

"I get a roommate I actually like and she gets famous and leaves me." Kelly finishes as she cuddles herself into my arms. 

"Stop it." I smile. 

"I'm not too far from you, you can come visit me on Fridays or something. It's going to get awfully lonely in here."  I say shaking her shoulders up and down to cheer her up. 

"You're going to be in the studio most of the time, you won't even have time to be bored. But I will take that invite and come when I want." She says playfully. 

"Do that." I urge. 

She jumps up. 

"Welp I gotta go clean the Sorority house." She states. 

She goes to the front and begins putting on her shoes. 

"I can't believe they're making you clean the whole house. That's kinda shitty." I take a piece of candy from the glass jar. 

"All the pledges have to clean at some point. It will all be worth it." Kelly quirks. 

"Byee." She sings as she throws herself around me. 

I chuckle. "Bye babe." 


"Yo, Devin!" she calls as she runs downstairs. 

"What?" I hear him answer. 

"Take me to the Alpha house pleaseee." 

I hear him mumble and find myself smiling at the fact that he was most definitely annoyed but would do it anyway. 

Before I close the door, footsteps jet back up the stairs. 

"Are you good here by yourself?" He asks looking around. It was a pretty quiet but lovely neighborhood. 

"Yes, I'm good." I answer. 

"Alright. Call me if you need me." He finishes and heads back downstairs. 

"Well aren't you over the argument." I say teasingly. 

"Nope just taking orders from Mac." He says sternly. 

My face falls. 

Of course. 

I wonder if he was getting paid extra to take care of me?

And here I was thinking he just couldn't stay away. 

"I'm joking!" He yells from the first floor. 

I roll my eyes and slam the door. No he wasn't. 

He was deadass. 


I spend some of the evening hanging up the posters I had in my dorm, then cooking spaghetti. I switch on the TV and cuddle up in the couch with a blanket when my cell phone begins to ring. 

The number is unknown, I know who it is before the operator chimes in. 

"An inmate is-" The operator is interrupted by my dial. 

"Wow, first ring. You were serious." I hear the lovely voice and I imagine his face and how his cheek pours into his dimples briefly then dips back out. 

I am smiling like a child. 

"I told you." I hum. 

"How are you?" He asks. It's insane that Trev could be literally on fire and still be worrying about me. It didn't make any sense and I didn't deserve it but I soaked it up because I missed him checking on me. 

"I'm okay." I answer, only wanting him to speak more. 

"How are you? I'm the one that should be asking." I say softly. 

I hear him exhale as if laughing. 

"I'm always good. You know that." He responds and his voice is low and even though he isn't trying to be charming, he is. I want to wrap myself up in him and sleep knowing he's close to me. 


How I long for those nights again. 


"I miss you." I say without thinking. 

"Do you?" He questions but he only sounds like he wants me to say more sweet things. So I do. 

"I do...so much. Everything about you Trev." I say honestly. 

"I miss you too, but lets not give the prisoner any false hope." He chuckles. 

I am fascinated by his words. 

"What do you mean false hope?" I ask firmly. 

"There isn't much to think about in these prison walls. Your voice already plays with my dreams, more so with my nightmares. I don't want to hear you saying sweet nothings and then I get out and you've moved on." His voice drifts. 

I think about Devin who has been assigned Mac's watch dog and then about Bizzy who was probably in LA doing his own thing. Neither of them has ever made me feel how Trevon does. One of them was a drunken accident and the other was a substitute. 

"I highly doubt that." I shake my head as if he can see. 

"It's quiet, where you at?Library?" He ponders. "You were always in that place in high school. I'd wait for you to come around the corner and end up catching a glimpse of that attitude walk right pass me while I'm tryna say Hi." 

I laugh. "Cause you be soundin like them niggas who just tryna waste my time." 

"How I sound like that?" I just be like 'Yo ma. Let me talk to you real quick." He mimics the exact kind of guy that really would waste my time. 

"Why you walkin so fast?" He added. 

"Why you throwin ya shoes at me?" He was laughing now, laughing at his own idiocy. 

"And you wonder why I ain't pay you no damn mind. Plus, I ain't know you was serious all this time. I thought you just liked messin with me." I giggle. 

"That too. You fun to mess with." He admits. "Where you at though?" 

I wait for a moment and the atmosphere changes slightly. "I left school... for music. Mac paid for my apartment so I can finish the album and be close to the studio." 

I hear him sigh. "Left school? Damn." 

"Yea..." 

It's quiet and then he speaks. 

"You can always go back when you ready." He says. 

"Nah, if it's anything like what happened yesterday. I think I'll pass." I suck my teeth. 

"What happened?" 

"I went to a poetry slam and after it ended I basically got swamped by students asking for photos and autographs. I loved it but if it happened every time I went somewhere personal, I don't know if I could deal." I switch the phone to my other ear. 

"You better get used to that fast. I know you loved the poetry slam though. What poem did you do?" He asked. 

"Worthy." I say proudly. Knowing that is one of his favorites. 

"The sun is no match for your bright eyes.." He begins the poem as I would and I laugh for what feels like minutes. 

"That was mad good, Trev. I'm not even playin you." 

He returns my laugh. "You not the only powerful performer. Matter of fact, ima learn that poem and recite it like it's mine." 

"That's copyright infringement." I warn. 

"It was about me anyway!" He protests. 

"You wish it was about you!" I yell back. 

"Table full of brown skin girls, table full of lies. Dark skin and fade, perfect eyes. That's not about me?" He asks, prepared to bring up more lines. 

I give in. 

"Okay, maybe SOME of it was about you." I admit. "But-"

"MERP- I don't wanna hear it!" He sings on the other end. 

"You're so unbelievable." I look up to the ceiling smiling too hard to catch myself. 

He laughs briefly. "I gotta go.  Stay safe, keep picking up on the first ring." 

"I will. Bye." I say a little sad now. 

"Iight. Talk to you soon." 

The phone clicks and I stare into space, my cheeks hurting from the sudden exercise. 

"I love you, Trevon." I mumble to no one. 


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