In which eight Wives And GirlfriendS of eastern conference NBA players open the doors to their drama filled realities. Why not step inside?
Please note that I do not know these people, and their presence in my story should not be interpreted as my e...
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1401 Spruce St APT 1004, Philadelphia, PA 19102 • Imahr's Apartment Rooftop.
| Wednesday May 26th 2021 • 11:10 PM |
Imahr stood back pressed against the rooftop door contemplating her next move. Everything seemed to move faster and faster each minute. All she wanted to do was sprint down the flight of stairs and back into her apartment. She'd gotten back into her apartment at around 8:17 giving her two hours and fifty-three minutes of non-stop thoughts before unexpected amounts of courage kicked in leading her to where she currently was. Unfortunately for her, all the courage flew out as soon as the elevator doors opened to the top floor.
Imahr's Confessional: “Thinking about my mother again made me realize how short life really is. She believed in second chances but never lived for tomorrow. That scented candle most people would buy and save for a special occasion, she'd buy and burn it instantly. Me waiting for the perfect moment to tell Matisse how I feel is stupid, because special moments don't just happen, you create them. Everything could crash and burn after I tell him but I'm already risking a lot running around aimlessly with him, so what the hell.”
Before her mind could push her back any farther, Imahr reaches out and opens the door stepping onto the cold rooftop. Instantly, a familiar head turns to face her.
"Imahr!" Matisse exclaims almost masking how relieved he was to see her. Taking a few long strides towards Imahr, he envelops her in a warm hug. "When did you get back?"
"Like two hours ago. I'm sorry, I got back and turned my phone off completely." Imahr returns the hug, unwillingly pulling away.
"Well I'm glad you're safe. At some point I thought you weren't coming so I almost lit the candle myself." The first day Imahr and Matisse got to hangout all by themselves, she took him all around Philadelphia. Before ending their day, they stopped by one of Imahr's favourite candle stores owned by a close family friend. There she bought three green wish candles, they'd light one for exactly one minute before every game day for good luck.
Dramatically gasping, Imahr feigns astonishment. "That's insulting!" Walking up to the fire pit, the two take a seat overlooking the city. Matisse pulls up the timer on his phone ready to light the candle only to to be stopped by Imahr. "Wait I need to tell you something first."
She was really about to do this. Choosing to ignore all the doubt in her mind, she inhales deeply. The two lock eyes as Matisse anticipates Imahr's monologue. Seemingly in thought, Imahr shakes her leg and bites the inside of her cheek with furrowed eyebrows. Matisse picks up on her anxious nature offering an easier way for her to speak, "Will it be easier if I turn my back?"
