Basquiat.

chapter one.

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Masika (Ma-SEE-Kah)

I tapped my pencil against my cheek as I debated on what I wanted to sketch today in my Fine Arts class. I thought to myself, A scorned woman with scars upon her back or a woman encaged within an abandoned building? The objective of the assignment was to draw something that somehow resembled you or someone you knew.

I was removed from my thoughts by the sound of my best friend Kaiyani screeching in my ear, per usual.

"Girl, you were totally staring at the new teacher!"

I chuckled at how childish she could be sometimes.

"Kai, you're mistaken. I was simply thinking about what I wanted to do for the assignment."

"Mhm, yeah whatever." She huffed.

"What do you plan on doing?" I asked while drawing an outline of the woman.

"Going out to the club tonight."

I sighed at her thoughtlessness, "I meant the project, Kai."

"Oh, I'm not sure yet."

My father never approved of Kaiyani, but she's the only girl that was ever nice to me when I first came to this campus.

"You're aware that it's due Monday, right?"

"I'll figure something out."

I mentally rolled my eyes and continued drawing.

I loved her, but she could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"Okay class, as you all know that I am retiring, and will no longer be teaching this course."

The class nodded and intently listened for him to introduce the young man standing next to him.

"This is Mr. Alsina, your new teacher. You shall treat him with the same respect as you did me."

"How ya'll doin'?" He spoke swiftly with a small grin.

I couldn't help but stare at his tall frame, bold tattooed arms, and his, perfectly sculpted face.

This man surpassed perfect.

"I guess this is the part whea' I tell y'all about me, right?" He chuckled.

The entire female population of the class laughed hysterically as if he told the funniest joke ever. While the guys envied the amount of attention he was receiving.

"Well, I was born in New Orleans, had a passion for tha' arts since childhood, and had always luh'd to teach since."

"How old are you?" One female student blurted.

"Twenty three, goin' on twenty fo' sweetheart," he smiled.

Thirsty ass.

After his introduction he went on to talk about his biggest art influences.

"Don't think about art when your workin' on something. Think about life."
"Rememba' dat."

He stared at me during every word that came from his lips.

"That right thea' is a quote from one of the greats, Jean-Michel Basquiat.

"When my brotha' Mel died, God rest his soul, art is what saved me from life onna' streets."
"I wouldn't be standing hea' right now if I didn't get my life togetha."

I listened in awe to how his passion for art resulted in him being where he is now. I honesty pitied him, he seemed very humble and down to earth, but he was obviously torn about his brother's demise.

He reminded me of my self when my mother passed.

Once again torn out of my thoughts, I looked up to see Mr. Alsina's tall frame towering over me.

"You catch allat?" He asked while eyeing his chart.

Lost for words, I stared at him and attempted to say something before being cut off.

"Masika, right?"

"Mm- yes."

He lowered his head, moved closer to my face, and whispered:

"See me afta' class, I wanna show you something."

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•Trvps0ul_

S/N: For those wondering, Masika may sound very proper because she wasn't born in America, but in Nigeria, where their English is a bit more formal than ours. She is NOT trying to be a smart ass lol, but leave feed back and vote! xoxo ❤