Welcome to The New Classic, where the past and the present merge, to form a new future.
Once that no one can see coming...
Join Angelo, Vanessa and the rest of the gang three and a half long years after that fateful night.
Lo kept count. V didn't...
Moodlist It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas - Perry Como Tezeta (Nostalgia) - Mulatu Astatke Moon Love - Chet Baker featuring Russ Freeman Santa Baby - Eartha Kitt
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"You know you can't hide from him forever, right?" The irony of me calling Selassie out on hiding from the object of her affection didn't miss me. We both knew I hid from my ex for years, but that's exactly why I was qualified to speak on it. I had confronted mine, albeit not really letting him get a word in edgewise.
"I know you're not talking." See, she wasn't trying to hear me.
"It's been over four years since he got locked up, almost a year since he's been released and he seems okay. I'm sure he would be willing to at least talk to you. You miss him, babe. " As she was driving the Audi we were in, she could only turn her head briefly to look at me. Her brows where knotted with feigned confusion, ready to tell me to take my own advice.
I know I needed to, but weren't talking about me, though.
Her face was one of the most exquisite I'd seen. If you knew what your were looking at, you would easily be able to identify her as East African. Her small, feline eyes were framed by her straight brows, providing her with a naturally lifted expression. Her nose thin and just the right size for her delicate face.
Sela's profile revealed a slight hump on her nose bridge, speaking to a her regal Habesha heritage. A juicy set of lips sat at the bottom of an oval face, completing the visage of a woman who looked like an angel and behaved like the antithesis of one when necessary.
We had both lost our tans from our trip to Mozambique, and with time flying by, we were headed straight for winter. She was back to her light brown complexion, although she would never let anyone call her lightskin. Seeing that she preferred for her skin to be as deep as possible, she would get a quick spray tan as part of her pre-Christmas preparation to rectify the issue.
She was like me; able to hide her inmost thoughts behind a veneer of expressionless aloofness, but I knew her better. When I first started the process of getting Lucas out, the mention of his name caused a shiftiness in her demeanour. At first I thought nothing of it. During our time together, Sela had alluded to a bit of a lawless phase.
She was an incredibly skilled and multifaceted woman. Her training by one of the best national security agencies in the world made her a resourceful woman. So she woke up in the small apartment overlooking my vintage store, she took me on a journey I wasn't prepared for.
It started with her showing me a small item. If I hadn't seen the article displayed in the Christie's Auction House in London, at an event months prior, I wouldn't have believed her.
"Bitch, I'll talk to my Leone when you talk to yours." This response made a wry smile spread across my face.
I loved her accent. If you weren't familiar with the Middle Easter, you probably wouldn't be able to place it, but I knew she had grown up in Israel when I first met her in my consignment store. Being around Mally and I and watching a lot of the shows we did had started to wear on her, and she now spoke with the same cadence and vocabulary as we did, only fully slipping into her Hebrew tinted accent occasionally.
