AN URBAN NOVEL | Champion and Chanala- Mirrors could be deceiving. Are there people out there that look in the mirror and are truly happy with the person that they see in the reflective surface?
Twenty-seven- year-old Champion Ortez McCoy wasn't to...
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Track #7 : 2 You — Mariah the Scientist
"He finally found what he was looking for — a distinct difference between them."
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LUCK.
To speak of luck is to realize that life has its moments of unfortunate events. Luck can lurk in the shadows of those with an actively beating heart, waiting to decide who to preserve or destroy. Unexpectedly, or at the hands of a prayer, luck made its visits on its own accord. Whether positive or negative, people searched actively for the answer to a question that their body could not provide on its own. Luck. Too often talked about, but not often encountered. A bracing breeze in the wind. Luck is to be created by those yearning for its presence. To be taken up by nothing but a sheer ounce of chance. The third contender in a relationship bonded by instincts — A prosperous reality mixed with golden and dark opportunity. Luck.
"Knights."
Chanala was happy to hear Champion's voice outside of their normal spot at Prisms. She hated to extend her beliefs with an exhausting reach, but there was something about seeing him in another location that made the environment around them seem slightly dreamlike. The art store. Was she shocked to see him in such a setting? No. Not at all. Not necessarily. Yet, her mind was unready for his sublime presence and the bottle of dazzling gold paint that she was holding onto slipped from her hands as if her palms were coated with an entire stick of butter. As soon as the bottle hit the floor, Champion returned it to her hands. Chanala held onto it tighter to fight shy of getting caught off guard again.
"McCoy." she responded. Ever since she learned his last name, she figured she would address him in the way he addressed her. She wiggled the bottle of paint around a bit and uttered a quick, "Thanks." to him for saving her the trouble of picking it up from the ground on her own. She prodded her hood away from her head and then placed a gentle, friendly touch on his arm. "I can't say I'm shocked to see you here, seein' that this is definitely your environment, but... wow. Here you are. How'd you even know it was me?" Not even ten seconds ago, her hood was pulled over her head so tight, she would've thought she was unidentifiable. But, not to him.
