𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚔 & 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 | (Austin!Elvis x Black!OC)

Ch. 4

Summary: Honey goes on her date with Michael, but things go unexpectedly. Vickie comes to the rescue.

Warning: Swearing

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I whine at the clock as I fix my headscarf into place, making sure the bow sits nicely under my chin. Seven o'clock approaches and I'm not in the slightest bit looking forward to this date. My mom, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.

I tie my button up shirt in a knot just above the waistband of my short, pleated skirt. "Michael's here, Honey!" All the energy in my body seems to dissipate as I hear those words. "Don't you look handsome, Michael. It's been so long. You better keep my baby safe, boy. Ooo. Is that a convertible you got out there?" I roll my eyes, hearing Ma butter him up downstairs.

I huff in the mirror, taking one last look at myself, then exiting my room. Mom and Michael come further into frame as I descend down the stairs. Michael notices me, silently hoping my mother will as well and distract herself from her interrogation.

I shyly wave at him. "Ma, we'll be fine. It's 7pm, it's just dinner. We'll be back soon, okay?" I rest my hand on her shoulder reassuringly. She looks Michael up and down, says nothing else, and makes her way to the living room. I give him an apologetic look, before we both quietly laugh.

I shut the door behind me and he walks me to his car. It was indeed a convertible like I heard Mama say. A baby blue one too. He opens the passenger side door for me, reaching for my hand to hold me stable as I seat myself. I smile at him and he shuts the door before returning to the driver's side.

After about 10 minutes of driving through the city, we arrive outside a restaurant. The block is quiet and dimly lit besides the minor activity happening in the one building we're heading towards. The small restaurant has one window that overlooks the few cars parked outside, however the glass is shaded by a curtain so I can't make out its interior just yet.

The tires scrape against the freshly wetted gravel as he pulls the car into a parking spot and soon enough he's exiting the car to walk to my door. "Shall we?" He offers his arm out to me.

I laugh nervously as I eye the building, taking his arm and walking towards the entrance. He pushes past the door and I stop dead in my tracks, now knowing why the area seemed so shady. "They got white people in here?" I whisper in a concerned tone.

"Yeah. It's alright, Honey. They got joints like this all over the North. Ain't nothin' to be scared about now." He places his hand over mine, guiding me further into the restaurant.

The decor is dull and low budget looking, but it's to be expected from an integrated area. Surprisingly, no one turns to stare at us in horror as we enter, but I still make an effort to not make eye contact with anyone as we pass by the tables. I do notice a few other people of color in the corner of my eye, which eases my nerves.

We sit and order, talking over our drinks while the food is being cooked. "So, how long have you been singing?" He props his elbows on the table, leaning forward.

I scoff at the thought. "I haven't, really. I mean, I sing around the house sometimes, but I'm performing for the first time at the end of the week."

He raises his brows. "Really?"

I nod shyly. "I'm singing Saturday at Club Handy, if you'd like to come." I offer, trying to be friendly, but in some ways hoping he's busy that day.

He smiles. "I'd love to." Oh, yay. "Bet you're excited. I've heard Club Handy's got some talented people there." He says, taking a sip of his pepsi cola.

I play with a napkin on the table, chuckling to myself insecurely. "Yeah, that's actually a part of the problem. I'm not as good as them."

The waitress comes, placing our food in front of us. We thank her as she walks back to the kitchen.