Sometimes i'm terrified to write.

Self reflection is a scary thing.

I often fear what my hands write down. Whatever it is, I know is 100% truth and the truth is hard to deal with. My anger, my happiness, my fear, my hurt... it's all there on display. I was never once worried about displaying it to others. I was always worried about displaying it to myself. Was I ready to read what I thought about me?

Every individual is fighting a war and individuals who aren't artist can ignore this war for as long as they chose. Probably until it breaks them down.

But my wars are written down for me. They stare right back at me, deep into the windows of my soul.

I can almost see the fire in my eyes and I desperately hope that one day this war will not destroy me. I fight back when I can and then other times I leave it to God. Ma tells me that God fixes all. That he knows all and is the only one we truly have at the end of the day. I've always believed her and somehow always used my own power first, and then go to God when it was overbearing. Ma said there's no such thing as my own power. That God was there the whole time. I'm starting to see that every day.

_________________________________________________________

I invited Trisha to the studio, just so she could have that experience with me. I recorded a hook for Trevon's song and we watched him rap his bars until he got a take that he loved. Trisha left early to go study for a history test. I never thought I would see the day where she would leave anything to study. I didn't gas it though.

After she left, I was kinda forced to be alone with Trevon. I don't want to say I've been avoiding him since he kissed me, but every time I have seen him since, I make sure Trish is with me. I know I'm being a complete coward and eventually i'll have to get it together. I'm pretending to write in my poetry book as he's spitting his bars.

"Let me hear that back." I hear him say from the booth.

Flex gives him a head nod then replays the take. As it is playing he turns to me, a sly grin on his face.

"What's going on with you two?" He asks.

I shrug. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" He mocks.

I laugh and tap my pencil on my notebook.

"You over here blushin, can't keep still unless your friend is around. You haven't looked at him in the face once. I didn't know brown skinned girls could blush red." Flex was having the time of his life.

I threw my pencil at him and he dodged it skillfully.

"Yo, start me from the hook again. I don't like how that verse commin out." Trev said staring at Flex, his face pinned against the booth window.

"I feel you. You're heart not in it." Flex responded. "Your heart out here in Ms. Chanel's notebook." He mumbled.

"What?" Trev questioned truly missing what he said.

"Nothing." Flex answered smiling. I was in the couch giving him a death stare.

"Y'all out there making fun of me?" Trev's dimple peeked through the open door of the booth. He came out now, his eyes dodging from me to our producer. "What y'all chattin bout?" Trev sat on my lap.

I squirmed. "You're heavy, get up." I said.

Flex laughed. "Y'all cute. Forreal."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Trev smiled and looked at me. "We cute. You not gon say thank you?"

I rolled my eyes setting off another one of Flex's laughing fits.

"How about we finish up Thursday. I have a meeting tomorrow in SoHo with a representative of a different record label." Flex closed out a few of the computer files.

"Tell him bout us." Trev proposed.

"What y'all thought I was doing? I'm on vacation, remember? You think I'm going to meetings for fun?" Flex turned his chair towards us.

"Wait. Seriously?" I looked at him like he had four heads. "This meeting is just about me and Trev? You must be going hard for us then."

Flex shook his head. "I am going hard for you but this meeting isn't about Trev, it's about you Chanel. My friend is looking for a new and versatile female artist. Someone well rounded. The only draw back is they won't be working here, they run shit upstate. Trevon is in my range of work. I make trap beats best, and rap is my specialty. So I was thinking-"

"If I go off to college upstate and Trev stays here, we both have a producer." I finished his sentence clearly understanding. "You were thinking ahead." I ended.

The thought made me sad, leaving Flex and Trev. We had a few months before any of this kicked off, but a few months would fly by.

"Exactly. You both got a long way to go. The difference with Trev is that he doesn't need a vocal coach and everyday practices. I can't give that to you." Flex got up from his chair and walked to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him. Trev remained on my lap, my legs being crushed by his weight, but we both just sat there in silence.

I looked at his face for the first time in days, and I've never seen him so sad and serious. He noticed I was staring and immediately found his composure. He kissed me on the head and I smiled more for him than for myself.

"You bout to leave me, college girl?" He mumbled against my forehead.

I didn't answer. His soft lips were distracting.

He kissed my eyes and then my cheek lightly then his lips found mine just like last time.

He briefly let them touch. I reached in for another but he backed away.

"You not just gon act like I don't exist then try to get free kisses. What you thought this was?" He joked. His voice was still soft and raspy. He got off my lap and got his coat then tossed me mine.

"Let's go." He said. "I think Flex takin a shit."

"I am man, ima catch y'all Thursday. By the way Chanel, you kinda have to be at that meeting tomorrow. Forgot to mention that."

"What?" I almost screamed at him. Was this another big producer? Should I dress nice? Why was he so last minute.

"Don't worry. Calm your nipples. You don't have to dress up, just look nice and don't wear sweats." He said through the bathroom door.

"Soooo.. dress up." I glared at the bathroom door and could hear him in there laughing.

We left but Trev didn't walk straight to the train station like he usually did. He took my hand and lead me in the opposite direction.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked concerned.

"Have I ever lead you astray?" He asked innocently. "I just wanna chill before you leave me."

"I don't leave for like 3 months." I say dauntingly. He made it feel like it was so much sooner than it actually was.

We walked around Bronx talking for at least 2 hours before settling on a bench in Pelham bay park, right by a small pond. It was already dark and the lights by the bench made it feel like it was just us in the entire park. It was creepy how I couldn't see anyone else or what was going on but I always felt so protected around him.

He pulled me on to his lap and I laughed at the reverse position from earlier today. His arms found their way around my waist and I was comfortable and warm.

He looked out at the pond, his gaze completely out of this world.

"I lose sleep sometimes, thinking about everything that's been going on in Brownsville." He said, his voice distant and monotone. I watch him speak and can unfortunately see all the pain pass through his face. I know this face, I've seen it so many times before since I've known him. And from the scared 9 year old boy who lost his Father, to this 20 year old with a scared 9 year old boy still inside him, his face has never changed.

"I'm tired of it, you know? Tired of hoping no one else dies and finding out someone just did." He lifts my hands to his mouth and presses his lips to the back of my hand. "Tired of working my ass off at this stupid job, hoping it can help Ma with bills. It's never enough. I just want it to be enough one day." He shakes his head and then remains silent.

"Something tells me it will all be enough one day." I mumble it, but he hears me loud and clear. As I said the words, I feel like I spoke it into existence.

"If you really believe what you said, Chan, then I'm going to stop worrying. You don't say things like that often." He looks up at me and I give a supporting smile.

I playfully pucker my lips and he laughs for a moment before pecking me on the lips. I pout staring at him.

"Not what you wanted?" he asks confused.

I shake my head still pouting.

"I thought you didn't feel anything for me?" He teased.

I moved my hair behind my ears and out of my face. "You're not gonna let that go, huh?"

"Maybe one day, college girl." He smiled and moved his lips so close to mine, my cheeks immediately heated up along with the rest of my body. His smile was gone and I think we can both feel the same heat now. The one that takes our breaths and turns them into jagged heeps of air.

Like it all slows down momentarily.

I make the first move this time. Slow and gentle I push my lips forward to meet his. They're warm and soft like I remembered and immediately I knew they would be my addiction.

He kisses back, pulling away enough for me to reach his lips once again, only by pushing forward. Slowly again, I let my lips lock with his. I move my fingers up his neck and kiss deeper, a motion that I came to learn was asking for trouble.

He deepens the kiss, tracing his tongue against my bottom lip then sucking it into his mouth. Why did that feel so good? Why would such a simple action feel so good?

I hear my breathing go uneven and I'm positive he takes note. He slowly turns my body completely towards him on the bench and wraps my legs around his waist. He kisses me again and again. My top then bottom lip. Switching in a rhythm I soon learned to follow. He would never know he was my first kiss, I didn't want to tell him. Being a virgin seemed amateur enough. Not that I was in anyway ashamed of it.

His hands move up my sides and he slides his tongue into my mouth to meet my own tongue. The motion seemed disgusting when I watched it in movies but with him it was completely different. It was a deeper form of connection. He does it again, playfully twisting his with my own and then he bites down on my bottom lip as his cold hands trail under my sweater. I moan accidentally, not use to any of the sensuality.

He takes in a deep breath as if I have caused him some kind of pain and then completely stops. "Easy." He mumbles before exhaling.

I stare at him flustered and he chuckles moving my hair behind my ears. " Time to go home."

I've ever only read about that passion in poems and books. I nod and unwrap myself from him.

"Damn." He says taking my hand as we both make it to our feet. He intertwines his fingers with mine and kisses my hand. "You don't know how long I've waited for you."