To the streets, he was Reckless.
Short-tempered, hot-headed Reckless.
Yes, to the streets, he was Reckless.
But to her, he was Nehemiah.
And all they needed was each other.
𝕸𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆
𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙙.
Previously titled All...
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I don't think I remember my first ever encounter with Kenzo, but I can definitely recall the moment at which I decided I did not like him.
Growing up, I had a drastic delay in my development. I don't know how serious it really was, but when all the girls in the PE changing rooms are wearing grown up bras and you're stuck in your training ones, it feels like the end of the world. I was smaller than all my friends, I was underweight, I had no tits, little to no ass, I looked like a primary school student trying to kick it with the big girls. I found everything I did embarrassing. The thought of doing anything in public—where the public were actually there—made me sick to my stomach, so I skipped as many social events as possible, unintentionally isolating myself from all my peers. I always had this baseless idea that everybody was making fun of me as they passed me on the street. I'd see a group of boys laughing and assume it was at my frail physique. A girl would smile at me and I'd assume it's out of sympathy, because I was so puny-looking. Needless to say, I was a very insecure preteen.
By the end of Year 8, just about every single girl in Ocean View had started their period. Every single girl but me. Looking back, I wish I'd taken advantage of that term a lot more than I actually had. At the time, it was the worst feeling ever. Watching the girls lend each other tampons, skip PE lessons together because of their cramps, lounge at lunch with heat pads on their stomachs. It wasn't the pain that I desired, I'm not a masochist, but I just wanted to be involved. I'd felt excluded enough as it is, the whole menstraul cycle saga skyrocketed my insecurities to an all time high. I felt so inadequate. I remember begging my dad to take me to the doctor's because I was just so sure I had some sort of terminal illness. I remember wanting to migrate to the middle of nowhere and just rot there when the doctor told me it's normal, and that I could end up waiting till I was fifteen. I remember Chanel twisting Armani's ear when he told me it was a stupid thing to be sad about. Chanel tried her best to console me, not that it helped much.
