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"MICHAEL! BAW, IS THAT YOU!? GETCHA LIL PALE ASS OVER HERE!" Michael suspired a long-winded gush of air from his diaphragm as he heard his uncle Rodney drunkenly call onto him.
Altering the forefront of his body, Michael upheaved the corners of his lips and held onto his sham of a simper. His feet reluctantly shifted before him as he watched his uncle wave him down.
The alcohol that lingered from Rodney's essence had engulfed Michael's nostrils before he felt his frame being nearly crushed from Rodney's massive hug.
The plate of food that Michael held at the center of his torso prevented their stomachs from touching. Michael was grateful for that.
Rodney slanted his spine towards the back before looking at his nephew. "Well, I'll be damned! Baw, if you get any lighter, I might have to start questioning if we really blood!" Boisterously, Rodney dropped his head back and looked up towards the sun, cackling.
Ungainingly, Michael imitated his uncle in laughter though he did not find humor in his vitiligo.
Michael grew acclimated to his uncle's distasteful commentary on his skin condition. It used to fuck with him emotionally growing up, but now that he was older, Michael no longer found a reason not to accept himself entirely.
"Last time I saw you was about uh..." Rodney rubbed underneath his chin with his meaty thumb and pondered a few seconds before snapping his fingers. "Five years ago at Peanut's funeral! God rest his soul." Rodney shook his head, "But yeah, it's been a while. The last time I saw you, baw, ya looked Mexican. I goddamn thought you were in cahoots with El Chapo dem!" Rodney patted his large hand over Michael's right shoulder multiple times with aggression.
"Yeah...It's been a minute, uncle." Michael held onto his sham of a simper.
"I heard about your company taking off over the years. Can't damn believe my favorite nephew a multi-millionaire. But I always knew you were gonna be successful, you the smartest muhfucka I ever came across, and I'm twice your age!" Rodney chortled.
"What is it that you do bidness in? I'm old; you know I be forgetting shit." Michael observed the sweat rolling from the sides of Rodney's face towards the opening of his unbuttoned Hawaiin short-sleeved top.
A golden tooth attached to his left canine matched the golden crucifce around his thick neck.
"I program and distribute software to fortune five hundred companies." Michael clarified.
