*Ally's POV*
"Manibear---," I exclaim as I strolled into the living room complex of our tour bus.
"Yes, Allyson," she says in a mocking tone as I snuggle into the warmth of her body, whilst she put her arm around my shoulders.
"...ugh why do you insist on calling me that."
I grimaced, nudging her stomach with my elbow to express my distaste.
" 'cause I enjoy being the only one who calls you that," trying but failing to suppress an adorable giggle.
I roll my eyes, amused by her answer. " Anyway, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, Allycat."
"How do you want your children to grow up," I asked slowly, nervous as to what her reaction will be.
"That's a little random, even for you Ally," she said in a cheeky tone, playing with my hair, "what's the occasion?"
"Nothing really," I answered a little too quickly, barely suppressing a groan when a shot of electricity ran through me as she tenderly scratched my scalp with her nails. Way to not be suspicious, Ally.
Obviously, there's more to my question than I alluded to. The real reason I asked Normani this was in an effort to get to know her. She's a mystery to me. Out of all the girls in our group, she's the member that I barely know anything about, and it kills me. Just looking at her, you can tell she's not just a pretty face.Normani Kordei Hamilton is a true exemplification of a story behind a smile.
Ever since Dinah, Camila, Lauren, Normani, and I met and competed as a group together on the X Factor, we've been inseperable. We tell each other our dreams and aspirations, our feelings, and solve each other's problems together. Still, going through all of that, Normani has remained a mystery to be unwoven.
I know what you're thinking, but her reticence isn't as conspicuous to the other girls as it is to me. With her high intelligence and sparkling wit, her withdrawn behavior flies beneath the radar.
"Honestly," she began, "I don't know if I even want kids."
"Why," I asked, eager at the prospect of learning something about her.
She sighed, "I don't really want to bring a child into a world full of ignorance or a world where I can't provide them with everything I don't have right now. Like an open mind to tell everything to, someone to trust, and a sense of freedom, even when it's no truly there. I hope to give my children all the opportunities to be themselves without being judged because I want them to have what I didn't have growing up."
Entranced by her words, I nodded urging her to continue. "I don't want to be anything like the parents today. I just think their problem is that every parent wants to live through their child. To experience things through their children. It causes the kid to feel as though they have to reach this pedestal to fulfill their parents' wishes. Then when it gets to be too much, they go off on their own and rebel, ya know, damaging their relationship."
After a beat, Normani rearranges her thoughts and this time, her pupils search mine as if to affirm her next statement, "I don't want my kids to live for me. I want them to know that I have lived and they should, too.
Just for a moment, the power of Normani's statement sits with us in the bubble of comfort she and I created.
"I know my ideals and expectations of being a parent are high," she continues, pulling me closer into her side, "and that worries me. What if I can't be who I want myself to be for my children. To feel as if I've failed someone, scares the hell out of me." She lies back further into the cushion, closing her eyes and massaging her temples to relieve tension.
And for the first time since I met Normani, I see something in her eyes that renders me speechless. Vulnerability. My heartbeat hiccups as I continue staring into her expressive orbs. After some tense moments, she drops her gaze to her lap, much to my disappointment.
I stroke my thumb several times across her knuckles to bring back her attention. "Don't put so much pressure on yourself for something so far in the future, Mani."
"I know, it just angers me how our society works. How we're forced to grow up so soon. How everyone pressure us to go to college even when we all know a good percentage of us will have shitty jobs and go on to lead even shittier lives," she states adamantly, "we're forced to grow up by people who don't understand, let alone want to understand the struggle we go through."
Fully understanding what she was saying, I respond somberly, "Because of all the pressure that is put on our generation, we're forced to grow up all too soon and accept that we are left with the remains of an already damaged society as a result of past generations. We don't have the opportunity to enjoy what we deserve."
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What Normani believes is true to me. The girls and I might be "living the dream", riding the high of X Factor fame, but when it all comes to a standstill, what will we be left with? Thinking about the future brings up so many questions that neither I nor Normani have answers to.
So, I stayed in Normani's arms for hours that night, enjoying the rumble of the tour bus, her intense warmth, and playfully intertwining our hands every now and then. During the silence, I contemplated the nature of our conversation. It just had so much depth and I realized Normani was the only person that could evoke that side of my personality. So much confusion goes through my mind as I relive the sensation that ran through me as a result of our impassioned eye contact.
As I lay in my bunk that night, I thought about the mysterious mocha skinned girl whose personality began to unravel itself right before my eyes.
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Author's Note:
Not sure if I should continue this or not. I just wanted to write a Normally story because there aren't many of them. Let me know if I should continue.
