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[Lamarr]

"Got damn," I griped to myself and Mike who sat on the other end of the line, more than likely wrinkling his face up just as I was from the deafening horns honking around me.

Outside O'Hare, alike to many major airports, you could find an assembly of taxicabs, Ubers and other forms of transportation waiting patiently along the sidewalk for someone to flag them down. It was like a rat race to see which disgruntle, road raged driver could get the first person with luggage they see, and which exhausted landee would catch a ride before another. No matter what time of day, whether if it were late night or a little bit after nine in the morning like now, this was bound to be the scenery. The mass of mess was inescapable. Without a doubt it was all still entertaining to witness from my view, propped up against an SUV that I was smart enough to order ahead of time, but it was not fun to listen to. It was all pure chaos and making it harder for me to multitask listening, conversing and scanning the area as I was trying to now.

"Aye, can you repeat that again?"

"Nigga," Mike began as a hint of impatience bruised my ears. "I said, why don't you just ask her?"

"Do you even listen to me when I'm venting? I told you already, I have asked and on several occasions. Last time Riley gave me a little bit more, and I'm sure she figured it would hold me over, but instead it pissed me off and felt like a slap in the face. She basically looked me in the eyes and said that she wasn't over this dude."

"No, she said she wasn't over it, it being the situation and how it ended." he corrected, and the audacity behind his need to back her bullshit and the fact I had wasted time repeating myself, made me suck my teeth as I pursed my lips, unmoved. "I'm sure if she wasn't over him and still wanted to be with him, she'd be with him."

"This is Riley Coleman we're talking about. The same woman who didn't speak to me for three years and tried to act as if she didn't have feelings for me, yet look where we are now; together, and now I'm driven to believe arguably in love...whatever the fuck that is. She's a walking contradiction, so we can never be sure that what you just said is the case." I argued and was sure Mike was now nodding his head, completely convinced by nothing but facts. "Also, same fuckin' difference. He is included in it. How it ended had everything to do with him, therefore she isn't over him and whatever happened to them."

"Well, you are in Chicago..."

"And what does that suggest, Michael?" The question was immediately shot back as my eyes raked along the sidewalk in search for Riley's small frame that she described being draped in a striped shirt and leather jacket at the top and blue crop jeans and white Converse at the bottom. There was a person dressed in everything but either of those layers, which left enough time for Mike to elaborate on his half ass piece of what I assumed was to become advice.

"It suggests that this is a grand ass opportunity for you to dig into her past. Bruh, you're attending a wedding with all her family and friends who I'm sure know more about this Quentin dude than you do. Her moms is supposed to be there, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well ask her." Mike said simply.

"Isn't this considered prying? You know, creeping behind your significant other's back for shit that has nothing to do with you?" Though this had everything to do with me.

I never thought I'd be that type of person in a relationship right now, acting as if I'm still in my early twenties and immature with how I go about communicating. It was all Riley's fault though, she was leaving me no choice but to get to the root of something that was becoming our problem as a unit. She was laying the framework for failure and leaving me to fix it.

"Yeah, but women do it all the time to us. They go digging in our past, finding all our exes and then check the Yellow Pages for their addresses and numbers. To top that off, they start lurking through our social media accounts and comments, looking for patterns and then hack our DMs. Then the nerve of these emotional and unstable ass creatures to purposely rub salt into the wound and printout all the screenshots of the messages and text messages that they magically got a hold of, and approach us about it as if they ain't already got shit figured out. May I remind you that 94% of the time there isn't shit to figure out. These women are clearly not Sway, they got the answers, my nigga!"

"Well, that was oddly specific. You sound like you're an expert at this, Mike." My comment was warped in wit as I began stammering over of my words from chuckling so hard. "Did the last girl you fuck over put your ass on blast with screenshots? I'm curious as to how when you refuse to give anyone your Instagram username. Now I know for sure that you have one, sneaky ass."

"Don't go telling the world all my business now. And it was the girl before the last girl." he disclosed as I shook my head and spotted Riley's darkened straight hair blowing in the breeze picking up speed near the electric sliding doors and her suitcase that was a dead giveaway of her presence; metallic with an porcelain rose flower framed in the middle, and as a whole screamed expensive as fuck.

She slowly glanced around as I kept my attention on her, ears on Mike's rambling and watched as she inched further and further out of the exit, and eventually sculpted a trail toward me once our gazes locked. The usual flicker of fire that would ignite itself inside of her pupils and set ablaze a grin on her face the second we encountered after an ample amount of time apart was ghost. She didn't look like her usual self and it startled me a bit, especially since it had been exactly two weeks since I was last in Los Angeles.

"Trust me on this, Cole. Talk to her mom, be direct or discreet about it, but meddle if you have to. It's your God given right to be nosy."

"I'm sure it is. This can either work out for me or expedite this sense of crash and burn I'm awaiting. Anyways, Ry is here so I'll hit you up later." I sputtered out quickly as she grew closer to the car and fiddled around her jacket pocket for the zipper.

Her pale fingertips whizzed it open and her hand dug in for what was her phone as she stopped in front of the car and looked down at lit up screen. Before she could open her mouth to speak she was dabbing away at the digital qwerty along it, and I was so absorbed in her aloof movement that I hardly heard Mike's, Aight man. Tell her I said hello and to quit being difficult, and simply replied with a Yeah, yeah. Of course, before goodbyes were said and our conversation ended.

"Hey there," she finally greeted with a faint smile as I took the handle of her suitcase into my grip and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Your eyes, they're red. You good?" Her I'm fine would have been decent for me, but the shrug that unconsciously followed made her statement debatable. I only opened the door in return as she climbed inside, then placed her bag in the trunk before following suit.

The driver pulled off not a second later and eased into traffic as the intro of In a Sentimental Mood fluttered out of the speakers. The many elements that made it a classic swam around gracefully and into the backseat, crippling Riley's body into mine as her lids fell shut and she leaned her head against my chest. It was instinctive to wrap my arm around her as she relaxed and give her a gentle squeeze that forced out a delighted breath from her lips. It was instinctive to ease her into a space where she'd tell me what I wanted to know.

"So wassup?"

"Nothing much," she exhaled. "I'm just tired. I was up until at least five o'clock this morning."

"Doing what, exactly?" I wondered, furrowing my brows closely together as I looked down at her sinking deep into serenity, the opposite of me.

"Working at The Village Studios."

"Which is almost forty minutes from your condo."

"Mhm. I left around 2:30, but didn't get back to my place until 3. Then when I finally got in I began bullshitting around with packing and ended up falling asleep at some point, only to wake back up and have half of my bag situated. By then I was hungry and decided I should just stay awake for my flight or else I would've missed it."

"I see." My voice dropped an octave as I rubbed my palm along her arm. "You and your band The Phoenix get anything done?"

"I was with Elhae, actually. He's finally back in town and I thought I'd catch him up on things, which then led to us working on his upcoming album. Then Miguel stopped by with Naz, and the flow of creativity became nonstop. So no worries, I wasn't alone with Quentin at all kinds of hours of the night."

"That wasn't what I was implying."

"Sure it wasn't." she said unconvinced and looked up at me with a smirk. "You could've just asked who I was with, you know." 

"Yeah, well I don't get too much of a solid answer out of you these days, so I decided to just let you tell me. You know, if you planned to anyways." Those bloodshot eyes quickly lowered themselves as my statement, that wasn't meant to come out so bluntly, struck a nerve.

The irony here, it pushed me there. She could try and play me for a fool all she wanted, but at the end of the day she was the actual foolish one if she figured the shit would work.

"Yo, you stopped taking that allergy medicine right after I left, didn't you?"

"No...yes." she spat. "The way I was feeling stopped feeling like allergies. Besides, I hate medicine and you know that. I prefer hot fluids and showers, eating honey, taking herbs and other supplements, or even cleaning my home down with eucalyptus oil."

"And half of that shit you don't have time to do every day if you're in and out, working all the time like you have been as of lately. Which explains why your face looks so raw." I tittered as she pounded her fist into my stomach. "Look, take the medicine again, Ry. It's easy and works way quicker than all those home remedies you live by, and you need to snitch on chick next door with the two cats. They're making you sick, it's not from outside like you assumed."

"I just moved into the complex, Lamarr. Do you really want me beefing with my neighbors for snitching? Plus, she looks kind of nuts, which is probably why she has two cats and no friends to begin with. That might be the wrong tree to bark up."

"Suit yourself then, out here looking like the walking dead." I teased, making Riley punch into my thigh this time as we both shared a genuine laugh, hers soon weakened by a yawn. Once the car fell silent aside from the selection of jazz music still playing, Riley took the chance to speak up and switch the topic, turning the camera angle onto me.

"Hey, how was the march in D.C.? You never told me about it or finished telling me about the trip to Jamaica you all took for Bally." she pointed out as I shifted against the seat and stretched my legs out before me. "You've been busier than me the last few weeks."

"We've been equally busy," I countered then began detailing both trips aimlessly. My interest had been piqued because her's was piqued. It was an instantaneous ripple effect. "But the march was something beyond me. I have to show you the footage I caught on camera of all the young black men and even some women from different creeds and classes out there sharing laughs, tears, learning and just forming a bond. It was refreshing to see in a world like this one that we live in. Then Jamaica... it was just as mind-blowing, especially as a follow up at such a historic rally."

"I got there and it was pouring down raining so they decided to just keep it inside and interview me, but the next day I hiked up this trail along Blue Mountains and sat up there writing for a while about God knows what. It was like once I took the pad out, everything, shit I didn't know existed in this head of mine, bled out of the pen and onto every line. I felt kind of renewed after that, like I had opened up a door for something big to happen. That sounds corny." I chuckled to myself. "But it's the truth, it was restoring. I got a chance to pick our tour guide's head too, and we spoke openly about what it was like to live there. It's feels like freedom. Yo! Then that same night I visited Tuff Gong Studios, right? How could I almost forget this? Bob Marley founded that place Ry, he founded it. For a second I felt like his presence was still thriving in there too, but I know you would've loved it. We gotta take a trip there together."

Once I glanced down to see if Riley agreed with idea, I realized that she probably hadn't even heard it in the first place. Her plumps lips were slightly open as light snores crept out and my entire rundown dissolved into her altered consciousness. For the remainder of our thirty minute or more ride to the Hyatt Regency - McCormick Place where our room was booked and this wedding was scheduled, Riley continued to drown into this peaceful sleep she obviously needed while I stared out the back window with my head lying on the headrest, and marveled at the city and its suburbs she had once personally introduced me to.

The 3D image of notorious skyscrapers poised before us as we cruised along the expressway grew closer and closer every minute, managing to keep me thoroughly entertained. And the way each laid perfectly against the fresh-faced sun and bold indigo skies, that manifested itself like some painted back drop in an art exhibit, left me amazed. It was almost like I was staring at a magnified postcard of Chicago, and it was dope to see that that image remained the same and what felt like in arm's reach even when we made it to the hotel.

The windows in our room framed the beautiful skyline for the portrait that is was and they looked down on the web of streets below that made this city, this city. It only made me want to wander around the rest of the building and see what other views I could get a glimpse of including the lake that was directly behind it.

So that's exactly what I did.

After settling into the room I left behind Riley, who had come in and plopped down onto the bed just to fall right back asleep, and took a few minutes to go back to the main floor and take in the vastness of just the hallways. They ivory walls bordered with marble wooden panels were sky-high, a seamless match to the ceiling high crystalline windows and made me who stood at 6'4 feel meek and miniature. There were ballrooms here and spacious boardrooms there amongst all the many curves and before I knew it, I was standing several feet away from one of the few restaurants and mini bars that had caught my eye once we checked in. I was starved and would eat anything at this point, including the buttermilk pancakes and steak 'n' eggs on their menu that I ended up ordering.

The place was fairly empty during its current breakfast hours, leaving only an elderly man and his wife aside from me present. The lights were fairly dim, décor simplistic and contemporary with its brown, gold, earth toned inspired color scheme, and remained silent excluding the elevatoresque music whistling in the background. I was comfortable in my booth all alone, hidden with enough space to stretch out and eventually ponder on ways to handle this evening.

To say the least I was nervous as hell and for a split second. I couldn't believe I had agreed to this shit. I was really attending a wedding with my girl, and on top of that, it was my first wedding ever. I was completely clueless to how this worked. Was there a such thing as wedding etiquette? As a man, were there rules I needed to know about in terms of what to say and not say? How did I avoid sparking that conversation in a setting as this one? Though I didn't mind discussing it, I didn't want to discuss it around all of Riley's family, who like everyone else in this standardized ass society, were expecting me at some point to discuss it.

And what were the guidelines to the bouquet catch? Did people still do that at receptions? How could I distract Ry from participating in that shit if it did happen? Did I not want her to catch it? Pause. Knowing her she wouldn't participate it in anyway. I was sure, though we hadn't discussed it much, we were both trying to avoid her fam and their snooping at any costs. We both just wanted to go under the radar, celebrate this new union and enjoy each other's company.

I almost forgot that such a desire was impossible in a hotel that was occupied with most of her folks and that they could catch either of us slipping at anytime and any place. They could run into us in the hallways or even in this same restaurant I was hiding inside, and grill us. When I blinked a few times, falling out of my gaze into space and glanced around to see a large group of people, probably a family, coming inside to settle at the empty tables on the opposite side of the room, I knew I might have just spoke or better yet thought this fear into existence. I was positive I had when a woman whose face was very familiar to the eye walked past and squinted my way as she hesitated to ease into her seat. Something about her cool golden skin and high cheek bones fueled a flashback before my eyes, and that was when it hit me.

"Lamarr..." she muttered, taking a detour away from her table. "Lamarr Cole. My goodness, you look so much more mature than the last time I saw you. Look at this beard and hair on you."

"Mrs. Coleman." Her brow shot up as she wagged her finger and gave me that same playful smirk as she had back in 2009. Rochelle as she was born by, hated when I referred to her as anything other than the names Ms. Ro or Mama Ro she had given me to use. "My fault, Ms. Ro. I thought that was you. You look mighty stunning this morning."

"Oh honey, why thank you." Her smile beamed back at me as she joined me in the booth and folded her arms comfortably onto the mat dressed atop the table. "I'm so happy to see you and in good health, it's been way too long."

"It has. Riley's been hiding me. I think she's ashamed of me."

"Please, not with the way she talks about you over the phone." she objected and shook her head in opposition. "She's just cautious when bringing significant others around me, but you're Lamarr. Even with everything that happened between you two, I know you, and you're a good guy. So tell me what's new? How is that career of yours going? I still Google you often."

"Oh word?" I chuckled as a grin etched itself across my face. "I hope you've found nothing but good things."

"Mhm. Well I did, and I found great things."

"Then you know about my latest album and tour's success? And all the other things tied with its release that Ry helped me speak into existence?" Ms. Ro bobbed her head as I pressed on. "It's been an amazing year, the best year for me mentally and career wise in a long time. Right now I'm still doing a few shows, but mostly enjoying my life and the little things. You know, all the stuff I never had time for before, but I suddenly want to make time for now. I honestly can't wait to see what 2016 brings my way either. I have a good feeling about it."

"As you should. You deserve all that you have recently been blessed with and I'm glad you're happy. You are happy, right?"

"Yeah, for the most part." I uttered, taking this opportunity she was unaware she had given me to hint at some of the insulting of intelligence happening between her daughter and I. "I mean...I'm good."

"Uh oh, I didn't like the

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