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 Sweet Life - Frank Ocean Nobody But You - Sonder & Jorja Smith CANDY - ROSALÍA Yebba's Heartbreak - Yebba Stronger - Sault 16 CARRIAGES - Beyoncé
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September 3 Months Later
"So my dad asked me if I had any classmates that might be interested in joining a prestigious internship his company, after we finish University. Your name was the first that came to mind of course, and I explained that your sister would want to meet with him to have more of a conversation about it. So he asked for her details so he can set up a meet the next time he comes to see me. I didn't want to just give her details as I know she's really busy being so damn fine."
The sharp side eye I gave him didn't deter him from his monologue.
"What!? It's the truth! Anyways, I know it's a few years off, but you're the smartest person I know, bro! And they'll even put you through a masters as well. We need more black people in oil man. I always say Angola is in Africa, until you set foot into Luanda. Then it may as well be Europe."
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.
"If you loved Mozambique, you're definitely gonna love Angola. When people think about oil, their minds go straight to Saudi, but that's so oversaturated now. There's so many resources in Angola! So much money to make. It's lit!"
Never, and I mean never, had I ever met anyone that spoke as fast as Emanuel did. There seemed to be a direct pipeline that lead from his thoughts, to his mouth, bypassing any filters that nature intended for him to have. His Angolan accent only made him sound even more quick tongued.
We were on our way from one class, to another. Due to the massively self important nature of the institution we attended, our attire matched down to the shoelaces, consisting of a crisp white shirt, tucked into a pair of cream coloured, formal pants and a navy blazer with the school's emblem on the pocket closest to my heart. And that, alongside the fact that we were both black, although not resembling in any way, was enough for people to confuse us for each other.
Looks like racism even found its way to the idyllic villages surrounding Lake Geneva.
I suppose it was only right seeing that the doors of my school invited the children of the elite, regardless of what colour their passport was.
Switzerland was definitely underrated as a vacation destination. The views I was witness to on a daily basis were unparalleled. With my living quarters being set on the lake, I awoke to a picturesque scene of surprisingly clear, blue waters, which gave way to a lush forest sitting at the feet of a proud mountainscape.
At least here, I had a surplus of fodder for my eyes to go with my dose of discrimination.
But it wasn't all bad. Actually, despite how many sarcastic gripes I had in the chamber, I really liked it here. And I certainly appreciated what it took to keep my tuition paid, and bedroom filled with the things that my heart desired.
