"In Which Reality is a Catchy Beer Song"

(Pt. 2)

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September 13

11:40 AM? (Who can think of time with food?)

Dining Terrace, Belle Mont Prep

"There's my favorite girls!" —Jhett chimes in — "and Emile" — he adds purposely like his bestie's name was an after-thought.

Emile makes a horrified gasp, plopping his leg on the vacant seat beside Kiana. "Oh, look, it's Banana the Snake!"*

Jhett stares at him questioningly. Some of his floppy ginger locks escape their semi-coiffed glory and dangle over a raised brow. His hooded teal-colored eyes narrow, while his razor-sharp cheekbones and jaw hang stiffly still.

His lightly tanned arms, sprinkled with a smattering of fine golden freckles, crosses over his chest, stretching his designer athleisure shirt over his lean torso and broad shoulders. "Excuse me?"

He stands tall behind Emile, waiting. His thin coral lips pursed to one side, highlighting a Marilyn Monroe* mole on his lower left cheek.

Emile flips his hair and turns to him. "You're excused."

Kiana's mouth shrugs awkwardly caught in between the line of their venomous sight.

"All right, ladies. Scussi," he holds out a finger then drags his wife (I mean, Emile) off the bench and to a corner. 

We watch as Emile flails his arms around and stomps his foot like a petulant child.

My view gets blocked as a massive chest and bulked-up shoulders come into view.

"Make way, make way! Hot tea coming through!"

Afraid to be trampled on, bystanders and passers-by stick close to the sidelines.

Tamieke (that's pronounced as Ta-mee-kuh, he's half-German if that helps) sashays in, his pearly whites glistening from the grin on his full puffy lips. 

The warm shade of almond on his high cheekbones, glistening with natural highlights(otherwise known as sweat), reminds me of the waxy texture of an apple I could just bite into.

His soulful whiskey brown eyes light up in excitement as he gracefully skips towards us with his bulging muscles and thick sturdy thighs.

Now, I know what you're gonna say. How can a man built like a linebacker defy gravity and have the grace of the Sugar Plum Fairy?*

Truth is, I don't know. Perhaps, it will always be one of those unsolved mysteries in the world.

Tamieke can effortlessly dance the 'Swan Lake'* in a 'San Andreas' *scene for all I know, while I have to exhaust most of my entire mental capacity not to trip on a flat surface.

Joule, another friend of ours, quietly follows behind him with his lanky frame hunched in concentration towards his phone.

As always, the expression on his face — or lack thereof — was fixed in a constant state of monotony.

Whereas Tamieke was blessed with thick brawns underneath his varsity jacket, Joule was given the lithe figure most models would starve to death for, a clear testimony to his distaste for manual hard labor.

His thick jet-black hair was cropped short, with thin wavy bangs dancing over the top of his eyes, partly obscuring his thick wayfarer-shaped glasses that were always hooked on the bridge of his long aquiline nose.

However, this didn't stop him from playing non-stop on whatever game was on his phone — or barely acknowledging what his twin was going on about.

Yes, Tamieke and Joule were twins. Conjoined twins. From the hip to the peen. (wink-wink!)

Nah, I'm just messing with you. But they are kinda like twins. It just so happens that they're polar opposites (Tamieke's a Taurus and Joule's a Scorpio, wink-wink!)*, yet they're the best of friends who are always together and will be seen together. Just like a certain pair of drama queens.

And that, ladies (and gentlemen?) concludes our lovely introduction to the colorful members of our tiny family, the Haus of Misfits.

Of course, there's still June, but he's stuck in college right now.

Anyways, back to the story.

I sigh in mock enthusiasm, clasping my hands close to my face. "If it isn't our favorite Wicked Witch of the West.* Lemme guess, Diana Ross* called and said she wanted her wig back?"

His smile stiffens, the corners of his lips coiling into a grimace.

I smirk at him.

He rolls his eyes and dramatically whips back his (and I swear, I'm not kidding) long thick mass of springy curls that would've made Julia Roberts* in Pretty Woman pale in comparison. Mostly, because he uses more products than her financially challenged character.

"Chile, please! These rich silky ebony tresses are all real — unlike Mr. Brazilian Blowout* over there."

He jerks his thumb to Emile's shiny blonde head a few feet away.

As if having the exceptional hearing of a bat, Emile snaps his head in our direction. He holds a hand out at Jhett's face, motioning for a short pause in whatever they were talking about.

"That was one time, and his name was Joaquin!"

"I said 'Blowout', you skanky-ass hoe" — Tamieke mutters under his breath — "and, he was Puerto Rican, not Brazilian."

"I'm sorry, you have now exceeded the number of times you can use the 'Shade' button. Kindly get to the point of your earlier announcement," I remind him in a telephone operator's voice.

Tamieke nods his head, quickly pulling out his phone and showing it to us. "Right, right. The betting pool is now at 1000-to-10. Before we know it, we'll be leaving this school rolling naked in cash and fancy-ass silk."

He waves his phone in the air and makes an 'oh yeah dance, followed by some 'uh-uh' elbow pumps.

Tia pokes him on his shoulder.

He smiles, still bopping his shoulders despite the lack of music."Oh, hey, Tea!"

Either he had low levels of survival instinct, or he was too blinded by the wealth he could gain over my expense that he didn't read the stormy cloud thundering over her head.

Tia narrows her eyes at him. Arms crossed on her chest, she repeats with a stiff upper lip, "Hey, Tea?"

The cool reserve in her tone stops Tamieke in mid-dance.

"Uhhh," he throws me and Keke, silently asking if it was Tea's shark week.*

Sushi shakes her head, and I roll my eyes. You're on your own on that one.

Tia shoves her phone a few mere inches from his face.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" Tia probes, hand on her waist.

"Coz" — he clears his throat — "we" — he darts his eyes toward Joule for support.

Unfortunately, Joule barely made any sign of being spiritually present in the conversation.

Tamieke huffs. "... believe in Ave! It was her name on the line. It's not our fault we're her friends for supporting her."

"Already ran the odds, too. Just as long as she keeps her violations to three minor ones or two major ones, our girl is good to go." Joule, who finally decides to look up from his game, raises a sandy-brown hand to his glasses.

The broad pulpy lips on his narrow face stretch into a mischievous grin aimed at Tamieke. "Besides, the only way Beasty here won't lose in a bet is if I'm betting on the same side as him."

"Bi-i-itch!" Tamieke hisses.

Oh, Joule. Always the voice of reason and cold logic, spouting off stats to every single little thing there ever was.

Though, that would actually mean he cares. It also helps that his often-time flat and somber speech reminds me of Captain Raymond Holt.* (P.S. to anyone who can't figure that out: SHAME!)

I prop my cheek on the back of my hand. "I think it's sweet." 

Tia glares at me.

I bat my eyelashes at her innocently.

"See? I knew somewhere behind that cold heartless bitch exterior, you are living for it." Emile butts in as he returns to his seat with Jhett sitting beside him.

Obviously, they made up — and on record time, too.

 I quirk a brow and shoot him a dark smirk. "Shame how you thought I would be offended over that."

"Either way, I know this gorgeous face is safe." He says smugly, his hands cupping his face like one of those Korean skincare models online.

"I don't think it's good to tempt fate. I know I would gladly put a shiner on you." Tia chips in brightly, cracking her knuckles.

This caused Emile to drop his smug look.

"Damn, that is so hot," I whistle — again, try to whistle — at my best friend's promise of violence.

Tia winks at me.

I bite my lip seductively and wink back.

"Can we please talk about something interesting and less depressing like" — Emile chokes out — "class?"

Joule nods. "Your attempt to switch the conversation has moved me" — he straightens his back — "My club just made an outbreak at Physics C. If we can just find another mechanical expert, we might just present an entry for the national robotics contest on time!"

From the subtle inflection in his regular flat tone, it was clear — well, to our circle — that Joule, the Science Enthusiast, was excited.

"Slow down there, Nemo!* Dammit, why can't you be this excited to the guys I introduce you to?" Tamieke grumbles.

"Congrats, Joule! BT-dubs, can I get the first scoop when you win?" Kiana asks.

"I don't see why not," he shrugs, not really interested in the fame and glory his project could possibly bring, unlike someon-

"AHEM!"

"So, any new members"—

"AHEM!" Emile continues to clear his throat.

It makes me wonder how long he can keep clearing his throat. Ooh, maybe enough to lose his voice.

Kiana blinks, her long thick ebony lashes fanning her cheeks. "Yes, Em?"

"Isn't there someone here who's curious what I'm up to?" Emile asks loudly, his eyes darting all over us.

"I think everyone is already aware of what is happening in your life, 24/7," Tia replies dismissively with a sweep of her hand.

Tamieke snorts. "Even my news feed is flooded with your posts. Just this morning, I had my phone on vibrate, and it literally jumped off the table just so it could kill itself" — he casts Emile a pointed look — "I'm afraid I might just have to unfollow you."

"Beyon-say what?* You take that back!" Emile hisses, momentarily resembling gorgon-realness.

"Just kidding, boo," Tamieke holds his hands up, though by the look in his eyes he clearly wasn't.

"Oh" — Emile perks up and goes back to his exciting news — "as I was saying, not this one. This time you get the first tea!"*

"What an honor," Tia comments drily.

I giggle and wink at her.

"Can it, Potts!" Emile snaps like a baby chihuahua. 

He turns to us and continues, "Everybody, stop what you're doing, and look only at me because what I'm about to say is huge!" — he swivels Jhett's head back in his direction — "The drama club is holding up auditions for the Fall Musicale" —

"But, we know that already," Joule cuts him off. "I filed and notarized the paperwork, as is within the bounds of my duty as the student body secretary, remember?"

This is what I love about Joule-Talk. Every line was just teeming with information.

Of course, being Emile, he continues undeterred. "And, for my audition, I am going to perform an original Emile Bryer classic play."

Kiana gasps. "You wrote a play?! That's great!"

"Sushi, please, I don't see why you need to look so surprised," he waves off.

Kiana eyes the rest of us, wondering her choice of words.

"You did great!" We mouth off and send her an 'OK' sign.

Seriously, only Kiana can insult someone and still sound so nice and polite.

"I know, hold your applause. I have barely begun. As I was saying, it's gonna have romance, adventure, drama, humor, a slice of life, and a bit of history. I call it" — he pauses for maximum suspense and signals Jhett to do a drum roll — "The ingeniously spectacular and world-changing play this school and the world, especially Broadway, has been waiting for... duh-duh-duh-duh.... Wait for it...duh-duh-duh-duh-duhhhh"—

"The ingeniously spectacular and world-changing play this school and the world especially Broadway has been waiting for... duh-duh-duh-duh... Wait for it...duh-duh-duh-duh-daaahhh"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just say it!" I snap.

Finally, he does and spreads his arms in exaltation. "Phallus: An Ode to Penis."

(To Be Cont.)

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What did you think of Emile's play? Will it be a hit or a one-way ticket to the principal's office?

Write down your predictions below in the comment section — and maybe what you thought of this chappie?

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*[F/N]*

Banana the Snake — an albino Burmese python that  Britney Spears performed with for her song, "Slave 4 U", the 2001 VMAs.

Marilyn Monroe — was an American actress, model, and singer. She was famous for playing comedic "blonde bombshell" characters, and as one of the most popular sex symbols of the 1950s and early 1960s.

Sugar Plum Fairy— a character in the ballet , "The Nutcracker", who ruled the Land of Sweets.

Swan Lake — a ballet composed by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, it is one of the most popular ballets of all time.

San Andreas — (film) a 2015 American disaster film that centers on an earthquake caused by the San Andreas Fault devastating Los Angeles and the San Francisco Bay Area.

Taurus and Scorpio — the two zodiac signs lie opposite of each other in the Zodiac, but both draw strong personalities from the same friendship.

Diana Ross — an American singer, songwriter, and actress.  She rose to fame as the lead singer of the vocal group the Supremes. She is also a gay icon.

Wicked Witch of the West — (also known as Elphaba) is the protagonist in the novel and musical, Wicked (The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West). One of her popular songs in the musical is "Defying Gravity".

Julia Roberts — a famous American Academy Award-winning actress and producer.

Brazilian Blowout — a hair-smoothing treatment that temporarily coats the outer layer of the hair to smooth the hair, remove frizz, enhance shine and decrease blow-drying time.

Shark Week — slang for a woman's menstruation.

Captain Raymond Holt — one of the main characters of the hit show, Brooklynn Nine-Nine. He is a black gay police officer and captain of the 99th Precinct who is known for being strict, hardworking, stoic, staunchly professional, and a stickler for the rules.

Nemo — (Captain Nemo, later identified as an East Indian, Prince Dakkar) is a fictional character in Jules Verne's classic novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas. He is a scientific visionary who roams the depths of the seas in his submarine, the Nautilus. 

Beyon-say what —  a wordplay on the 2nd syllable of Beyoncé's name (say).  

Tea — originated from black drag culture, it is slang for gossip or one's personal truth.

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