CHAPTER 11 #3
Monica’s face lit up in the mirror, a massive, relieved smile spreading across her lips.
"Oh, girl, that is more than okay! That is perfect!
Listen, I just want someone fun, someone genuine for her to talk to, you know?
And you seem like just the absolute right person to bring her out of her shell.
But look, if you're too busy with your internship or whatever corporate meetings you got going on, we can definitely choose another time.
I don't want to be pressuring you, Miley. "
"Nah, it’s all good, Monica," I said, my voice dropping into a quiet, honest register as I let out a slow, heavy breath. "For real... I need some new friends by the way."
The shift in my tone was subtle, but Monica had been driving people around this city long enough to read the emotional weather inside her car within a split second. She caught my eye in the mirror, her expression instantly softening with a deep, knowing empathy that felt completely grounding.
"Damn," Monica murmured, her hands steady on the steering wheel as the sedan cruised down the FDR Drive. "Sounds like you're surrounded by some real fake people right now, Miley."
I let out a long, ragged sigh, my fingers tightly gripping the leather strap of my Telfar bag as I stared out at the grey waters of the East River.
"Something like that, Monica. It's just... it’s amazing to me how you and a person can spend years building something good, years holding each other down through all types of struggle, and it only takes mere seconds for the whole entire structure to just collapse into the dirt. "
Monica went quiet for a moment, letting the weight of my words hang in the air over the low hum of the car engine. The morning sun was reflecting off the water, casting bright, dancing lines of light across the interior of the sedan.
"What's really up with you this morning, Miley?
" Monica queried softly, her voice dropping into that deep, maternal lane that made you want to confess your entire life story.
"You're definitely not your usual high-energy self today, girl.
Did you and your boyfriend get into some kind of crazy argument or a fight before you left the crib? "
I let out a dry, humorless chuckle, shaking my head against the headrest. "Nah, Monica.
I don't have no boyfriends. No men in my life to be fighting with.
But... I do have friends. Or at least, I thought I did.
Suddenly, one of them just became really sour and incredibly bitter at the exact same time this morning.
Let's just say... I’m out here right now trying to broaden my horizon.
Miley is officially on the lookout for that which is purely sweet.
No drama, no attachments, no toxic energy. "
Monica let out a loud, appreciative laugh, her head tossing back slightly against her seat.
"Damn, girl! You should be a whole-ass poet with that line!
'Looking for that which is purely sweet'...
I love that shit! But look, I feel you for real.
You remind me so much of my daughter when you talk like that.
She gets all sentimental and deep about her relationships too, always looking for that pure connection. "
A soft, genuine smile finally broke through my cold exterior. "Good. I can't wait to meet her then, Monica."
I reached into my bag, pulled out my white AirPods, and jammed them deep into my ears, signaling that I needed to retreat into my own head for the remainder of the journey. I looked up at the mirror one last time, meeting Monica's eyes. "Tap my shoulder when we reach Forty-Second Street, okay?"
"Gotcha, girl," Monica smiled, her eyes returning to the road ahead.
I tapped the screen of my phone, unlocking my favorite playlist, and instantly hit the track that always kept me grounded when the world around me started turning into chaos.
Drake’s "Over My Dead Body" started playing through the headphones, the smooth, atmospheric piano chords and the heavy, slow baseline filling my ears, drowning out the sound of the highway traffic and the loud, noisy thoughts inside my own skull.
“I think I killed everybody in the game last year, man, fuck it, I was on though...”
The music wrapped around my brain like a protective shield.
I needed to completely lose myself in this sound today.
Terra had made the apartment toxic as fuck within a single morning, turning a night and morning of incredible, mind-blowing physical pleasure into a weapon of emotional warfare.
Music was my only release right now, the only thing that didn't ask for my heart, didn't demand an attachment, and didn't leave a trail of broken promises in the hallway.
As the silver sedan glided closer and closer to the towering glass structures of Midtown, I let the rhythm take over my pulse, steeling my mind for the forty-second floor, completely determined to leave the drama of Harlem behind me on the asphalt as the journey to E-Tech continued.