❝ All we ask is trust, all we got is us . ❞
⸺ ( Michael x black!oc )
Kalyiah Brown, an ambitious photographer from Crenshaw, and Michael Jackson, a strong minded movie director brought up in Compton; both showered by accolades and success, were stil...
( this one is dedicated to thepharrcyde and all my sistas who bullied me for it #YallKnowWhoYallAre )
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✧.* AUGUST | MANHATTAN | NYC ✧.*
𝕺𝖒𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙
𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝟐𝟗𝐓𝐇, Michael - or Pablo, as some liked to call him, turned thirty years old.
Thirty.
That number meant a lot in different ways. At thirty, he could no longer blame his mistakes on his early, mid, or even late twenties. Thirty meant that he had fully transitioned from being a young adult to embrace full adulthood.
But at thirty, individuals also seriously take a deep dive into the reality they live in, and from that point, decide whether or not they were content with it or not. Luckily for Michael, he could proudly say that he'd made the most out of his twenties, by not only pursuing his passion, but also becoming highly successful in it.
In reality, he had everything he could ever ask for, so anyone would figure that an existential crisis wouldn't chew him up once the clock turned to midnight - but it did.
It did, but only for a short amount of time. He reflected on how much he had gained, and how much he had lost - in these past thirty years. Half full or half empty, that's how he always saw his glass. But as the saying goes, the good always outweighs the bad, and Michael lived by that, or at least, he attempted to.
At 11:59 pm, Michael put his phone on plane mode and 'do not disturb', because he knew that sixty seconds later, his cell would be going off. Between the series of calls, the simple happy birthday texts and the overly emotional dissertations he would be receiving, he chose none, and preferred to lay in bed while staring at the ceiling, with some Nat King Cole playing in the background.
