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( CHAPTER SEVEN: RHYTHM NATION ) September, 1989
❝ the whole neighbourhood is gonna be actin' a fool. ❞
◯
Devon sat on the couch in embarrassment as all his family members surrounded the TV, gawking as the 'Rhythm Nation' music video debuted that afternoon. "Dev that's you!" Devon's uncle cheered as he eagerly probed forward, ecstatic brown eyes locked down on the television. Devon sheepishly smiled as all eyes remained on him dancing in the black and white video, positioned just behind the star herself – Janet Jackson. "You look as thin as a stick here," Devon's grandmother pouted, her frail hand pointing to the TV in disdain.
"That's cause the costume didn't allow me to breath," Devon said, thinking back to the time where he had to suffer through every take. "I think you look very handsome," his aunt commented cheekily, pinching his check that showed shy signs of his dimples. Devon bitterly rubbed his face at the harsh cultch of her fingertips, even after fifteen years she wouldn't stop pinching his cheeks.
"Man Dev, this is surreal," his uncle said once again, his eyes never once leaving the pixelated footage of the music video as the soft tune of Janet Jackson's song played in the background. "I knew you had it in you! I knew you could do it!" Devon grinned at his uncle's praises, innocent eyes filled with childlike joy as pride filled his agile boy from head to toe.
All his life he had dreamed of this, being in a high-budget production where he did what he does best: dancing his heart out. And now, his dreams were prescribed into reality and he truly couldn't be more satisfied. However, as the young man sat on the couch squished between his crazy family members, his eyes landed on his mother who distantly looked at the screen with an unreadable expression.
His euphoric expression fell upon seeing his mother sitting there with no hint of enthusiasm or pride, and just the sight of that changed his perspective forever. Just by the incomprehensible look in her eyes, Devon realised that his accomplishments were nothing but insignificant steps that lead him to everything she didn't want him to be. From that moment on, he knew that his victories should be taken lightly.
"How hard were the dance moves Dev?" one of his baby cousins asked, who was merely four years old. He barely had any cousins that were his age, so he felt it was extremely important to be a role model to them. "Ah, nothin' I can't handle," Devon cockily said, brushing his shoulders and hopping to his feet. Instantly he freestyled in front of his family as they ooed and aahed, thumping and bobbing along with the beat as Devon danced away.
"That's nothin'! Watch this!" Devon's little brother Arkell barged in, busting out his best moves as he challenged Devon's ability. The older brother laughed humorously, clapping as he gave his sibling time to shine. Amid the happiness and continuous laughter, the bell to the front door rang. Devon, being in such a chipper mood, volunteered to answer the door.
