Whirlwind

43

[Riley]

Nazanin's undeniable grace that she sauntered around with on a daily was one that couldn't be missed. It was actually one that should be envied because she didn't use effort to exert it. There was no touch of makeup, use of a hair product or other beauty enhancer in this world that would top what God had blessed her with. She was the epitome of 'waking up like this', creating sense around Leslie's unwarranted jealousy. 

I literally had to scoff as my eyes wandered from my computer screen and to her as she stretched across the seal of my window with her head stuck in a book entitled Audition. The nerve of her wanting to be an actress. She'd put every person she shared a screen with to shame with just her aesthetics.

"Listen, if we're going to be friends you're gonna have to show me some flaws. I'm sick of your pretty ass." I taunted as her bob length curls swung over her shoulder and her bright smile glowed toward me with the late morning sun.

"Oh please! You act as if you're far from gorgeous yourself."

"You have me beat in a couple of places, but you're right. I am kind of cute, huh?" Nazanin nodded as we both laughed then placed her book down for the first time in the last two hours.

Since today was a slow day for Naz, though she might argue a slow month in regards to work, she decided to keep me company as I did some research on this potential artist Donovan placed in my lap. He and his band's showcase was tonight and I needed to get a feel of what I was dealing with, but that was falling completely short. I guess they made it their mission to leave some mystery to themselves with the lack of visuals floating around the web and since they weren't as popular as a Prince and the Revolution or D'Angelo and The Vanguard, biographies were scarce. Music and music only should be the focus as they made it, so this was smart marketing, but also very frustrating for a person like myself.

"So, how's it going over there?" Naz asked, peaking her head over as if she could get a glimpse of my screen from her side of the room.

"Horrible. I guess I'm used to typing almost anything into a search engine and finding images immediately. You search The Phoenix, keyword band and nothing but their logo pops up. If this is even theirs."

"So they or he wants the music to be judged off the sound and not how they look?" she wondered and bit her lip inquisitively. "That's actually clever if you think about it. If the lead is hideous and the band members look similar or worse than him, people might not listen. That's me speaking for the shallow individuals of the world, I'd still listen to them."

"Right," I shot back and looked over in her direction. "They sound amazing cohesively. The lead's voice is out of this world and I can't really put my finger on who he favors."

"Wait, the song playing right now is him?"

"Yep, and it's called I Want You."

"Well he's giving me John Legend vibes with a little bit of..." her fingers snapped as we both let our minds wander and find a match to something so trivial and at the tip of our tongues. "Am I thinking about Musiq Soulchild? No? Yes?"

"No, you're thinking about...Maxell!" We both exclaimed in unison, but there was still something familiar about his tone that literally awakened a trail of goosebumps along my bare arms once it left the speakers. It was slowly setting ablaze a heat inside me that I only associated with passion or maybe even lust. Which one it was exactly at this moment was blurred and I was left  wondering who or what has given me this feeling before.

"This man can hit the shit out of that note we were blessed to get in Maxwell's Fortunate. He's dangerous." I murmured and leaned down against my desk as Nazanin's eyes followed my movement. Though the song had ended I could still hear it humming in my ear. "He's got soul and I like it. I like it a lot. He might sing the girls right out of their panties."