The Sweetest Fruit ( Tomboy 🏳️‍🌈Love Story )

24.Choose

Sonia 

Kora handed me a crisp white shirt. The fabric was soft, a sharp contrast to the bustling crowd around us. Despite her insistence on paying, I held my ground. 

"I'll pay for mine," I said firmly, holding her gaze. She sighed but relented. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate her kindness—I just couldn’t keep letting people do things for me when I was capable of doing them myself. 

I shivered as I pulled off my sweater, the chilly evening air biting at my arms. Beneath, I wore a maroon turtleneck that clung snugly to my frame. I slid the white shirt over it, the slightly oversized fabric soft against my skin. There was no way I was staying in just a shirt, though—the turtleneck was my shield against the cold. 

Kora, on the other hand, had no such qualms. She shrugged off her leather jacket, revealing her toned arms and intricate tattoos that snaked up her skin like ivy. Removing her shirt, she stood confidently in just a black sports bra. Her  skin glistened faintly under the string lights strung above the crowded lot. Her dark dreadlocks framed her sharp cheekbones, and her confidence was striking. 

"You have a lot of nerve stripping in public," I muttered, half-joking, trying to ignore the twinge of envy. She smirked. 

"Being confident helps," she replied. 

The music around us was deafening, a thundering Gengetone beat vibrating through the air. Strobe lights flashed in time with the music, illuminating the sea of people dancing under the noon sky. I glanced at the makeshift stage at the center of the crowd. It was a rickety wooden platform strung with neon lights that blinked erratically. 

“What now?” I asked, raising my voice above the chaos. 

Kora grinned, her eyes gleaming. “The fun begins,” she said, rubbing her palms together in excitement. 

The crowd roared as a tall, dark-skinned man climbed onto the platform. His arms were a canvas of tattoos, each one seeming to tell a story I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. His voice boomed through the massive speakers as he addressed the crowd. 

“Okay, okay, calm down, people. The fun has yet to begin!” 

The crowd screamed in response, their excitement palpable. My head pounded as the noise intensified. The sharp smell of sweat, alcohol, and street food hung in the air, making me slightly nauseous. 

"You look uncomfortable," Kora said, leaning close to my ear. 

I nodded, my voice barely audible. "It's been a while since I’ve been in such a big crowd." Two years, to be exact. 

Kora laughed lightly. "Relax. Have fun." 

I forced a smile. "I’ll try." 

A girl nearby screamed, “I love you, Olaso!” as a muscular man stepped onto the stage. His caramel-brown skin glowed under the lights, and his chiseled physique was hard to ignore. If MJ weren’t occupying my mind, I might have been just as taken. 

"Do you want to leave?" Kora asked, noticing my discomfort. 

I shook my head. "No. I just need something to eat." 

Weaving through the crowd was a battle of its own. My feet were stepped on at least ten times, and I lost count of how many elbows jabbed my sides. When I finally reached the food stalls, the tantalizing smell of grilled meat and fried snacks greeted me. 

“Hey, can I get a hot dog?” I asked the vendor, a middle-aged man with a red ball cap and a friendly face weathered by years of work. 

“Sonia!”