one shots

crush | pt. 10

I got the internship.

I thanked God every morning for it too. Although I wasn't getting paid for it, I was becoming rich with experience. Here I was, fetching coffee and running errands for designers while shadowing Mr. Young himself. He owned one of the largest graphic designing companies in the world, often partnering with Nintendo and other corporations for projects such as video games.

It was honestly one of the most stressful jobs I've ever had-- mainly because of the extra pressure I put on myself. Mr. Young often said that I was too young to be stressing myself out. I would simply tell him that pressure is what turns coals to diamonds. He really really likes the way I think, and I really hope that my optimism and work ethic is what lands me a job here when I graduate.

All I have to do is keep up the good work.

My friends have encouraged me a lot as well, especially you know who.

He'd call me every morning before I'd go to work, and give me the pep talk of the century. Those daily words of encouragement seemed to be the main things getting me through the day. When I'd start feeling frustrated, I'd think about how proud my family and friends are of me regardless of whatever hardship I'm experiencing. That's what Genesis puts heavy emphasis on, every morning.

He reminds me of how far I've come, how close I am to my goals, how proud he is of me, how amazing I am, and how I can do anything as long as I don't let my frustrations get the best of my attitude.

"The only thing in your way is you, Nas. You got this," he'd say.

I don't know what I would've done without him, and I made sure to show him my gratitude every weekend, which were my off days.

I'd meet him for brunch or invite him over my house for a movie night. I would never let him get too close to me though, especially during movie night. Pulling me close or kissing my cheek may have been completely innocent in his eyes, but I knew better. This man was in a relationship, and I had no business allowing him to put that in jeopardy. He told me that I had no business worrying about his "so-called relationship," as he would put it.

I'd roll my eyes and allow him to drape his arm over my shoulder and kiss my forehead. This was only hurting both of us. Sure, I don't want to be labeled as some type of "homewrecker" but laying up under him felt like the closest thing we'd ever have to being together ever again.

Sometimes, I'd snuggle up to him on the couch and be on the verge of tears because my heart was breaking. It was frustrating having the guy you love kiss you and hug you and hold you when you really need it (and even when you don't) but not be able to call him yours. I grew to resent him a little, and it became more and more obvious every time we'd see each other.

"What's this hostile attitude?" he followed me into the kitchen.
"I don't have a hos--"
"What do you call it then?" he asked as I opened the fridge.
"Nas, talk to me," he closed it before I could even find anything worth eating.

"Just go home, Genesis. I don't wanna talk," I refused to even look at him.
"I'm not going anywhere. You got me wasting my gas when I drive over here just to go back home ten minutes later," he shook his head.

"Come on. Let's just put on Poetic Justice and cuddle up, just how you like it," he smiled, his hand finding my waist before he pulled me closer toward him.
"Nah, I'm good," I pushed him away from me.

"You're trippin', man," he kissed his teeth before going into my living room and plopping down on my couch.

I microwaved some popcorn and poured the bag into a bowl. I opened a cabinet to grab the hot sauce but was abruptly halted.