“The struggling artist look really doesn’t look good on me.”
“I don’t know how to put it. Here I am working on my first novel…but there is this look I always see in people’s eyes when they…” Sigh!
“What? When they what?”
“Have you ever been to one of those book launches or like when Chimamanda was in town…sigh!”
“What Rembo? What is it?”
“Zidi, there is this famished child look with eyes of desperation that they have. That just yells desperation. I am not desperate am I?”
“What do you mean by desperate Rembo?
“You know sitting there hoping that someone will whisk me away to a great book deal and an international bestseller. I know I have to put in the hard work. I just hate looking desperate.”
“Where is all this coming from? Who did you talk to today?”
“OK fine! Yameni!” Zidi rolls her eyes, smacks her forehead and growls in irritation.
“How many times? How many Rembo?” Rembo shrugges shyly and looks away, her back arches and she begins to twiddle her thumbs.
The door flung open and there he was in the door way in all his glory. The sun beams blocked by his body at the door almost made him look angelic. With thhis guitar strapped over his shoulder. He stood 5’ 6’’ of nothing but pure African butter, black cargo pants way below the navel with his backside looking like a child’s diaper due for a change. His shirt checked, form fitting and showing off his Mickey mouse boxers. Quite ‘romantic’, with his brows done and his hair, pressed and corn rowed. Yameni was trouble and an indecently dressed bundle of it.
“What the….?” Zidi smacked Rembo on the head. “Stop gawking, this is what has left you stuck at page 20 of your novel for the past 4 months?” Rembo was too love struck to respond to the pain or utter a word.
“Hello ladies?” Yameni walked in with a slight bounce and pulled an LL Cool J lip lick, he on the other hand looked like he was liking mucus off his lips. There was something off with whatever he tried. He leaned in to kiss Rembos hand and his pants loosened and Mickey waved at the world.
Rembo was sucking in that buttery skin. Zidi had to stand in the middle of the two who were now gazing dreamily into each other’s eyes. Rembo had been going on and on about looking like the struggling artist like LL ‘not so’ Cool J man. She seemed to be torn between Yameni’s buttery caramel skin and his inability to do anything much else.
And what do you know he whipped out his guitar!
“You have such a great voice” Yameni told a now giggling and blushing Rembo. Zidi rolled her eyes and walked off to her room. She was beyond revolted seeing her sister so lost.