Bodies

trente-sept

For the next couple of days, nobody out of the ordinary contacted Milan.

It was weird because all on every social media platform, she saw pictures of Devon. People were expressing their condolences, how heart broken they were, and so much public grief... but no one had even reached out to ask for the service arrangements.

Luckily, there weren't any.

Milan bitterly thought as she counted her money from the last couple of nights she worked. Working as a bottle girl paid mostly in tips. She always did well.

She'd use this money to go get gas and a couple other things before she went and visited Ramses at the facility he was being held in. He was trial was in the next two weeks. And after what Carlos said to her about dying in jail... she wouldn't miss laying her eyes on him for the world.

Manuel had even sent flowers through Nicki to apologize for Carlos's "boldness". The slap she gave him still masquerading as a response to a crude joke. Milan had the flowers taken away from her room and thrown in the trash as soon as they were delivered.

What Carlos had done could never be fixed.

And the pain definitely couldn't be eased with some weak ass baby's-breath.

Giving her hairline a break from the wigs, Milan styled her jet black hair into a low slick knot bun. Bringing her baby hairs to the front, Milan had to admit, she was a extravagant edge layer. She loved the art of swooping and curving her edges to whatever look she was trying to achieve.

She especially loved doing her sideburns by making them curl up by her ears. Her look was already understated enough, she was wearing an orange graphic tee, biker shorts, and sneakers. Grabbing her purse, she made sure to throw a pair of sunglasses in as well as some hand sanitizer.

Her goal was not to touch anything at the jail house, but she knew that wouldn't be possible.

***

When she arrived at the holding facility, Milan reluctantly got out of her car and approached the building with sky high chain link fences with barbed wire at the top.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined herself actively involved— hell, fucking in love with a man who was on trial for murder. Let alone visiting him as he awaited trail!

I know my mama is crying and throwing up watching me.

Milan thought as she was lightly patted down, purse searched, walked through a metal detector, and then an x-ray machine.

At the end of that small parade, she was then returned her purse and allowed to approach the teller to sign in for visitation. "Inmate name?" The platinum blonde woman behind the counter asked her, her pen poised down at the piece of waiting paper. She was an older heavy set black woman who seemed to be in her late 50s.

"Ramses Young, and my name is Milan Cozart."

The woman glanced up at her when Milan said Ramses's name, chuckling to herself as she wrote down the date and time of when Milan arrived before turning the paper towards Milan for her signature.

"You know I forget that young n*gga name, everybody that visits calls him Pharoah other than that white lady lawyer he got." The clerk continued to speak, patting her bun back in place with long dark red finger nails.

Taken aback by the woman's cursing, all Milan could say was "Oh?" as she signed her signature next to her name and pushed the paper back towards the worker.

The woman continued to laugh to herself as she pulled out a big square stamp and slammed it down onto a name tag for Milan. When she handed it to her, Milan saw it read visitor and had her first and last name on it. She pinned it to her shirt next.