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 Cherish The Day - Sade More Than Enough - Alina Baraz West Side - Ariana Grande La Luz - Kali Uchis featuring Jhay Cortez Need To Know - Doja Cat Good Comfort - Shenseea
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"I know... I know there are so many things you would like to say to me right now...I know...I'm going to ask you not to." The demon himself, was seated at the kitchen island of the vacation property he rented, not too far from my own home . As if unaware, or rather, unfazed by the aftermath of his actions, Vincenzo sipped on a cup of coffee, which contained nothing in the way of milk or sugar to soften its potent flavour.
The amount of sunlight that was spilling into the room through the gap in the curtains let me know it was well after daybreak.
His laptop was open, as it always was. The device had been the only witness to his re-enactment of the iconic "Strong, Healthy Black Man" scene from the Bernie Mac Show about an hour prior to me becoming conscious again.
The reason why I asked him to refrain from comment was because he did, indeed, finish it. And he nearly finished me too. I hadn't dared to look at a reflective surface yet, but I knew I looked worse for wear.
When I walked into the modern apartment, I was a vision. With my children sleeping, I had the time to get dressed up for the first time in months. My face was beat for the deities, from complexion to lips and lashes; I was done up. With unlimited access to bundles, curtesy of Vanessa, I was able to whip up a quick high ponytail, with a side swoop and flipped ends.
Everything was set goodie.
I wish I could say the same for myself now.
Thinking of my masterful creation, I was now irritated I didn't get more pictures of it, given the state of my hair this morning. I took a seat opposite him at the island, not quite ready to look him in the eye. Instead, I mentally recounted last nights events, trying to figure out how when I made the mistake of so sorely underestimating his capabilities.
It started while I was getting ready.
My outfit of choice was a full Ioannes look. It was a long sleeve, ankle length body con dress, in a psychedelic cream and sage green print. The pièce de résistance was the open back of the garment, revealing smooth, tattooed skin above waistline. With the high neckline of the dress, I wasn't able to wear any of the necklaces he gave me, but a brace-and-anklet combo did find its way into my ensemble. A gold pair of Gianvitto Rossi Ribbon Stilettos rounded off the look.
When I put it all together, and looked at myself, my body hummed with satisfaction.
I looked phenomenal. My body looked snatched, and I was ready to show it all off, in a way I hadn't in a while.
I'm about to snatch this man's soul. Or so I thought.
While never dysmorphic, it took me time to settle into my new body. At first, I accepted it for what it was, choosing to focus on its strength, and capability. But then, I noticed I started gravitating towards clothes that hid my shape. It was then I knew I had to start doing the work to reconstruct my personal beauty standard, as close to my current appearance as possible.
