❛ You pay the price of fame,
So don't be feeling no pain. ❜
⸺ ( Michael x black!oc )
Imani Sade, renowned songwriter and musician, has been working for the biggest Pop stars of the industry while staying behind the scenes for years. Due to her mu...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
OCTOBER 12 . 1987 . OSAKA MICHAEL
Imani and I showered together tonight. Considering the circumstances, it was a bonding moment I would for sure look back into and cherish as time passes. After the borderline chaotic day we both had, taking the time to nurture each other, in such a vulnerable state, was curative, though none of our feelings had been verbalized to one another. Imani's fatigue was almost palpable as I waved the shower head around her body, the vivacity of the twinkles in her gaze utterly shunned, and I couldn't take seeing her that way.
Now, while Drixie finished taking care of her skin in the bathroom, I was sitting on our bedroom's floor, in my blue pajamas, sorting out all the clothes I had to pack since we would be leaving Japan for Australia early in the morning.
Minutes later, Imani stepped in, wearing a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of red sweatpants that were clearly two sizes larger than hers, since they fully hid her feet. I decided to break the burdensome silence as she reached for one of her suitcases.
"Look at us, we had four days to get our stuff ready, but here we are folding clothes six hours before our flight instead of sleeping." My tone was playful, as I pointed to all my clothes spread out across the floor.
Her lips teasing a mild smile, Imani sat down in front of me, and opened her luggage, "You haven't seen mine yet." revealing a dune made of clothes messily thrown on top of each other, she turned her head to me and closed her eyes in defeat.
"Wow..." was all I could voice out, causing her to nod, grabbing a shirt. "Ain't you got three more of these?" I asked, despite already knowing the answer. "Told you it was a bad idea." For a moment, Imani glanced up and stared at me silently, before a sheepish grin slowly creeped onto her face. I missed making her smile, "But I was told to get out of women's business."
This time, Imani couldn't help but laugh, bashfully covering her face with a white tank top. It was a short lived giggle, but it still led me to smile widely. I missed that too—making her laugh. I could hear her nerves easing down while she spoke, a light grin still on her face. "I should listen to you more often, I guess...'
My eyebrows slightly furrowed, as I buttoned a shirt, "I'm not so sure, maybe I should be the one listening."
"No...you already are." Imani shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears, before placing the top she had folded to the side. "You're always there to listen and I'm just...not brave enough to speak."
