Title: A Million Little Lights

SE01EP01 - “Woke on a Monday”

Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesases, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 12/11/2017

Time: 1:32 PM PST

Mood:

WTF? Zaria swiped her finger backwards across the screen again and again. Her eyes had to be deceiving her. “This has to be fake news” she thought. “Someone had to have photoshopped this video….well… ‘video-shopped’ it anyway.” Sitting in her car on her lunch break, Zaria took a strong pull

from her vape pen as she hit play one more time. The marijuana hit her system, but the reality of the video clip hit way harder.

It was the dash cam footage from the murder of DeMarr Lacey. The 15 year old was unarmed and doing nothing illegal when he was shot to death in Zaria’s hometown of Cleveland, Ohio just last night. She didn’t know the young man, but it felt like she did. He dressed like the kids from her

st neighborhood dressed. He had the jawline like her Pastor and a hairline like her 1 crush, and sadly a lifeline like far too many brothers and sisters around the nation.

She had sat at the very same bus shelter he was murdered in front of countless times before. Frantically, the bewildered young man in the video stood like a statue with his palms facing

God. The two officers unloaded. POW! POW! POW! POW! POW! The first two shots hit him in the chest and stomach. You can see DeMarr double over and fall to the ground writhing in pain as

Cleveland’s finest peppered his adolescent frame with 3 more bullets for good measure. Even in the grainy video you could see blood leaking out of the face of Chief Wahoo, the Cleveland Indians logo that adorned the young man’s shirt. The Cleveland baseball cap which he kept meticulously clean now lay carelessly in the gutter.

1:33 SMH, she was already 3 minutes late returning from lunch. Zaria stuffed her face with the remainder of her chicken wrap. Her hands were literally trembling. Unsure as to whether it was the tears or the THC that made her eyes look Netflix red, she splashed some Clear Eyes in her eyes and some gum in her mouth before hastily scurrying back to her office. Her heels clicked across the lobby floor causing people to look up as she walked by. She jammed the ‘close elevator’ button in the hopes of getting to clock in a few seconds sooner. She was physically “there” but her mind was ingrained with the visual of DeMarr taking his last breath on instant replay.

“Hey. How was lunch?” Asked Debbie. The smug looking soccer mom who sat in the cubicle next to Zaria. “The smoothie shop was out of pomegranate.” Zaria brushed off the question as she logged back into her computer system. “Debbie’s ass always got something to say.” She thought.

Zaria could see right through the shade. Debbie and Zaria never got along, and was certain that

Debbie had been complaining to the supervisor about her for weeks. Debbie didn’t give a shit how her lunch went. She just wanted Zaria to know that she as aware what time she clocked back in. Have you ever been around an old white person where you could smell the Jim Crow on them? Debbie was most certainly one of those people.

Undeterred by Debbie’s trolling, Zaria put her headphones in, her head down and pushed her way through the remainder of her work day. That was until her phone started vibrating in her purse.

Zaria had a date lined up with a guy she met off of Tinder the other day. As advertised, she was

20 minutes late to the small Korean BBQ spot on Alameda. “Sorry I’m late, traffic from that wildfire had the freeway backed up.” Omar smiled. “It’s all good,” He replied. “I just got here maybe 5 minutes ago.”

Omar was a cutie. Zaria was pleasantly surprised as he actually looked like his profile pic. She had heard horror stories of people getting “catfished” online countless times before. He had the smile, the dimples and the beard. Everything was looking good. Well, that was until he stood up to give her a hug.

The booth he was sitting in was slightly elevated, so when he rose to greet her, Zaria was taken aback to realize that Omar was looking her in the eye, in flats. Bummer. It wasn’t exactly a deal breaker for Zaria.

She never considered herself to be particularly vain or shallow. To the contrary, the only thing Zaria

Amina loved more than intelligent conversation and witty banter was to hear YG’s music come on in the

 club. In all seriousness, the height thing wasn’t exactly a deal breaker, but she had no intention of spending any amount of time with a dude that can’t put two sentences together about anything other than the LA Lakers and Lonzo Ball.

“So, Zaria. Please. Tell me a little bit about yourself.” Omar asked while he expertly grilled chicken and vegetables on the table in front of them.

“Ahh. Well, you know, I’m Zaria Amina, I’m 22. I’m originally from Cleveland, Ohio. I moved to LA about 8 months ago to become an entertainment reporter. In the meantime, I work part time in this call center, but my job sucks. The smoke wafted from the table as he started transitioning food from the table to the plates.

“Do you have any kids?”

“No.” “Me neither.” He said with a grin. “So, what’s Cleveland like? I don’t know a whole lot about it.”

Zaria blew on the steam emanating from the food on the end of her fork. It was a small bite, yet it was so hot that she still had to jostle it back and forth in her mouth for a moment before digesting. “I love it, its home.” She replied before taking a sip of water.

“Would you ever consider moving back?”

“I wouldn’t move back. Life is about moving forward, right? Besides, did you see the video of the police shooting that unarmed black kid in Cleveland last week?” Omar shrugged his shoulders and his trapezius muscles popped out the top of his shirt. “I don’t really get into all that. I don’t have time for it.” Caught off guard by his casual indifference, Zaria raised an eyebrow and adjusted her chair before engaging Mr. Omar Powell any further.

“You don’t have time for black people being murdered by police? You don’t have time? The dash cam clip was only 14 seconds long.” Though she tried to maintain her composure, but the change in the conversation was visibly working a nerve.

“To keep it 100, I see so much of that shit on my timeline, it’s hard to even keep track of what we’re supposed to be mad about today. We talking about the shooting in Cleveland, or the one in

Baton Rouge, or Ferguson, Missouri or Charleston or Baltimore?” Zaria found his general indifference to the laughable. Especially considering what she had seen him post when she was creepin’ through his FB page before the date...

‘So basically, he cares about the injustice when it’s against someone who’s lit.’ she thought to herself. “Negroes, have the mental focus to find illegal streams of boxing matches….If you can find time in your day to dissect a Drake diss song like it’s the Kennedy assassination tape… you can find time to know about what’s happening in the world around you. Maybe you don’t have any sons, but what about your cousins or your homies or their sons?”

Omar chuckled as if amused by Zaria’s annoyance. “Fake outrage,” He said while shaking his head dismissingly. “That’s what black women do these days. They sit around on social media and wait for something bad to happen so they can hear themselves complain and give each other style points for making snide little memes and sassy retweets. But the rage only lasts for a day or two and they move on to the next celebrity or public figure they want to be mad about. I’m a business owner, I don’t have time to worry about which celebrity we are supposed to be angry at this week. I live in the real world, not on the internet.”

Zaria couldn’t believe the things Omar was saying to her. “Fake outrage? Boy, there ain’t a damn thing fake! I’ll tell you what? Mr. Powell, There is an anti-police brutality protest going on Saturday, I saw about it on IG. I’m going, how about you come with me and we see if the outrage is fake or not.”

“Sorry. Saturday? Can’t do it.” Omar shot her down before she could even hardly part the words from her lips.

“I didn’t even tell you what time!”

“I have two cross-fit classes to teach and two personal training sessions on Saturday mornings. Unless this rally starts after 4pm, I’m gonna have to sit this one out. “

“And that’s such a large part of the problem with black men today. Men sit on the sidelines and the women are the ones left out here fighting all alone. Black men are so concerned with putting dollars in their own pocket that they don’t even look around them to try to make real change in the world anymore."

“Easy for you to say. Aren’t you already off work on Saturdays anyway?” He had a point. Shit.

Omar shoveled more food into his mouth before finishing his statement. “I swear, women wanna be feminists so bad until that restaurant bill comes, or it’s time to kill a bug, or take out the garbage. They all get traditional real quick.” Omar let out a small forced laugh that sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying more than anything.

That was it. Zaria had finally had enough. “Look. I don’t need any handouts from anybody. I don’t need any restaurant bills paid or any bugs squashed. You can’t do me no favors that I can’t do for myself.

Furthermore, I don’t need to be subjected to a bunch of condescending remarks from a dude with a fuck boy job and a Velcro beard. Her blood was boiling as she tore into her disrespectful dinner date. She was worked up and upset, but the rush of adrenaline from arguing made her feel alive. It was as if all of her senses were on edge.

The check came and Zaria picked up the bill despite Omar’s vocal objections. The vibe seemed like it was ruined. The stretches of awkward silence were increasing as both seemed to be more engaged in their phones than each other. Suddenly a new message popped up in Zaria’s inbox. Her eyes rose from her phone to see a smirk on Omar’s face. She opened her message:

Omar:

Zaria laughed a little harder than she intended to. Game on! Little did Omar know, but

rd Zaria was a 3 degree black belt, in memes. She went into her downloads and rapidly fired back.

Not one to shy away from a challenge, Omar fired back a reply of his own.

The memes worked to chip some of the frost off their conversation. The smiles came back, the laughter soon followed and before Zaria knew it, she was in the Uber heading back to Omar’s place. Omar felt pleased about the direction of the night, as did Zaria. She had never done anything even close to this before, but it’s 2017 and she was done living life confined by the opinions of others. She did what she wanted and got what she pleased.

True to her word, Zaria woke up on Saturday to go to the protest. She sent Omar a snap of herself in her the mirror. She poured herself into a new pair of jeans than fit like a harmony over a dope beat. Her “Black is Beautiful” t-shirt made her boobs look even bigger than they normally do, she noted while checking herself out in the mirror. “As if I really need that.” She chuckled to herself. She tied back her curly tendrils in a ponytail and wore two cute wooden earring she bought in Leimert Park a few

weeks ago. She lightly dusted her face with her new Fenty Pro Filt’r Foundation to complete her look for the day. Her look was understated but cute. “Damn. This boy Omar is missing out.” She said to herself jokingly before grabbing her keys off the counter. Her Uber was outside. It had been a long time coming but

Zaria felt like she had finally grown into her womanhood. She was coming to love her body in the shape that it was. Learning to accept her curves, her skin and all of the things that made her who she was.

She climbed in the passenger seat of the Uber. She hated riding in the back. She felt like she was being chauffeured, which was weird. Truthfully, she could care less whether Omar attended with her or not. After the horror of watching DeMarr Lacey’s legal snuff film online the other day, Zaria knew that she had to make her voice heard today. It was a beautiful SoCal summer day, and there was a bustling commotion the closer we got to the rally. Her driver dropped her off as close as he could and Zaria walked over to the epicenter of the action.

The energy was surprisingly chill. Some were passing out pamphlets, others holding signs, still others just listened intently. At the podium stood a young speaker. He had these long, gorgeous dreadlocks.

Even with some of the slack being taken up by the sloppy knot of hair in the back of his head, they still stretched halfway down his back. His gray shirt and blue jeans were accented nicely by a bracelet that adorned his right wrist. His outfit wasn’t nearly as remarkable as what he was saying though.

“There is a DeMarr Lacey everyday somewhere in America!” The young man said with conviction in his tone. Zaria stood at the outer fringe of the crowd, positioning herself just close enough to be able to see and hear what was going on. “Did you know that 258 black people died in 2016 at the hands of the police? 39 of those people were unarmed. Black men make up 34% of unarmed people killed in 2016 but only about 6% of the U.S. population. What does that tell you? It’s open season on black men! Do not get it confused! My mama always told never judge a girl by what she says to you, judge her by her actions. Well, If America was a girl, and we were to judge her on her words and actions…. I’m just saying…. Our relationship status is “Complicated” at best!”

The audience laughed, Zaria included. She rummaged through her purse for her phone to record some of the speech for IG when a hand tapped her on the shoulder. Looking up, there was a skinny white kid in front of her. He had on a TDE t-shirt, skinny jeans and some vans. Around his neck secured professionally was a very nice top of the line camera. The camera looked like it weighed as much as he did.

“Excuse me. My name is Matt. I was wondering if we could take your photo for our Instagram page.” Zaria was pleased and happy to oblige him. She stood next to a poster that said “No Justice,

No Peace” with her fist in the air and her hand on her hip. Zaria leaned in towards Matt who had his camera still tethered to his neck.

“Ugh, I don’t like it. Can I get a do-over?”

“Well, you look great. But I had it set on shutter, of I actually snapped about 15 pictures here, look!” After briefly sifting through her options, Zaria settled on the pic she found most flattering for the

Matt to post.

“So what is the name of your organization?” Zaria asked while checking back at the brotha talking on stage.

“Isn’t that the question you should ask before you pose for the pic?” Matt said with a laughed while putting the cap back on his camera lens. What if I was from “Foot Fetishes of America?”

LOL. Zaria caught off guard that response. “So you’re not, right?”

“No! No!” Matt chimed in. “I’m with ‘The Wave’ we are a grass roots activism coalition here to help serve communities of color in regard to police matters and general education, health and well- being.”

Zaria was more than interested in the organization. Matt uploaded the pic and tagged her in it.

Just as she checked her Instagram page.

The dynamic speaker continued. “Did you guys hear this latest story about Roy Moore the

Senate candidate from Alabama? This dirtbag had the audacity to look an African American tax payer in the eye and tell them that America was last ‘great’ during slavery. Are you kidding me? ARE YOU

KIDDING ME!? And this is the man who is a stone’s throw away from holding one of the most powerful positions in a state that is 27% black? To make matters worse, he’s been a Judge since 1991! It’s time to Wake the F – Up people! We see how they are stacking the deck. Let’s come together y’all let’s do something about it! Peace!”

The crowd erupted in applause all around them. The man who spoke so eloquently was making way for the next speaker. Mz. Amina examined the picture a little further in her phone when a large shadow moved in behind her, eclipsing the sun. She looked up to see the well dressed, well-spoken man from the stage was standing right next to her.

He looked more impressive up close. He was naturally attractive. Not a pretty boy, but just a good looking young man – the kind who can pull off their look effortlessly, without having to drop $400 on a Gucci belt.

“Yo, Matt, did you get any shots of the crowd while I was up there? I want to use that for our

Tumblr page!” It was at that moment that he realized he was interrupting our conversation and he instantly apologized.

“I’m sorry miss! I didn’t mean to jump in the middle of your conversation, my bad. My name is

Garvey.” Garvey stuck out his hand which almost enveloped hers in a handshake. “Nice to meet you

Garvey. I’m Zaria.” Their eyes met and there was a spark. You know. That ‘Oh, shit. This is really happening’ spark.

“Zaria, Garvey. How about a picture of the two of you together?” They agreed and stood side by side, immortalizing the moment forever.

“Zaria, you should come to our informational meeting next week. We’d love to have your support.” Garvey’s smile was not the softest, but it was genuine like your grandad’s favorite spot on the couch. You could see the earnestness in his expressions.

“I’ll be there.” Zaria promised. “I’ll even set a reminder on my phone.” Before she could even set her reminder, it began to ring. She had already missed a call from her friend Jordin and being the persistent chick she is, Jordin decided to follow up her call with a text… 3 minutes later. They had met years ago in a

Facebook group always stayed in contact. After getting situated in LA, Zaria reached out to Jordin and they have been tight ever since. Zaria feared her friend could be in some trouble. She had suspected the worst before, but now she didn’t know what to think. She called Jordin and the phone rang just once before Jordin picked it up.

“Hey, Zaria. Girl are you sitting down? You need to be. I think I have some news that could change our lives, both of us!”

Zaria kicked up the volume and held the phone even closer to her face as if that would help her consume the news better.

Garvey and Matt watched cautiously as Zaria turned her body away from a large speaker that was next to them.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” Zaria screamed at the top of her lungs and dropped her iPhone cause it to shatter across the pavement.

#2BC

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On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights

SE01EP02 – “Hold the , Please”

Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents

are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 12/18/2017

Time: 11:47 PST

Mood:

Zaria was embarrassed and shocked, one, at the fact the she just broke her phone while still on a call, but also because Garvey and Matt were still standing right there. “You ok?” Garvey moved in closer to help her gather the pieces of her phone, Matt quickly followed. “I’m fine, it was good news.”

She explained to them it was a potential lead on a job and thanked them for their help. Zaria left the protest excited about being invited to The Wave informational, but also by Garvey. After getting to the mall to get her iPhone repaired, Zaria messaged Jordin on FB back so she could get the full story.

Zaria: Right in the middle of the protest with people watching.

Jordin: Let me tell you, I’m driving for Lyft the other day and this guy gets in and he’s got

diamonds everywhere and some Balenciaga’s on his feet. We started talking and he was

bragging how he was a producer for the Migos.

Zaria: For real? Are you sure he wasn’t just a Bitcoin baller or something?

Jordin: By the time we got to that it I had made it to his destination. We exchanged numbers, since I told him you were a entertainment journalist.

Zaria: good looking out girl… you always got my back. So you been talking to him?

Jordin: he hit me up a few times just saying hi but My BF was around and u know how he

gets… He texted me right before I called you saying the Migos are in town tomorrow night and

he has tickets and press passes for an interview after the concert.

Zaria: I will be practicing my interview questions girl, I’ll be ready. Good looking out!

Zaria practiced all night, watching any of their online interviews she could find, even the one with Joe Budden. She did take time to look at the Wave IG page to read the comments on the pictures Matt tagged her in. She had gained quite a few followers since it was posted. Other that, she was all business. She even ignored a message from Omar, trying to strike up a booty call with a meme.

Omar: I only sent you 3 comments. Still got hope right? LOL

Nice try. But Zaria wasn’t thinking about that boy. Before bed she went down her timeline and came across an article about the execution - style killing of Daniel Shaver in Arizona by Officer Philip

Brailsford. It was simply too late to be triggered and while the article was troubling enough, she wisely chose not to watch the video. It sounded like a quick way to rile up some nightmares before bed. Zaria, while outraged, couldn’t keep her eyes open decided to catch some sleep.

The next day, not even Debbie the time clock Nazi could bother Zaria as she confidently strutted to her desk. “You have the time Zaria?” Debbie asked knowing her co-worker was due in at

9am and it was 9:06am. Zaria shot her the “don’t mess with me this morning” face, put on her headphones and logged into her computer. Work was a breeze and most of the productivity went into rehearsing interview questions for Migos. Zaria made a dispensary stop on the way home to change before heading to Jordin’s. Zaria texted Jordin on the way to see what she wanted.

Zaria: At LA Collective, want anything? Getting dome cartridges for my vape pen.

Jordin: Get some edibles, haven’t had them in forever… like a brownie, something .

Zaria got mostly ready and jumped in her car to Jordin’s. She scrolled her timeline at a light while navigating her way through the LA traffic. She was looking for the flyer for tonight’s concert. A chill went down her spine as she saw a post from a woman she met in an online seminar for vloggers.

The post was making light of the murder and saying a bunch of stuff about how he provoked the officers. “Bitch! Delete!” Zara’s sighed trying to remove the negative energy while looking at the Fruity

Pebbles strain vape cartridge she purchased and the strongest brownies they had for Jordin. She found the flyer. It all seemed too good to be true.

Zaria arrived to see Jordin by her apartment’s mailboxes.

“Hey Zee,” Jordin yelled as Zaria got out of her car. “You got here fast.” Zaria walked with her to her apartment. They walked past a group of cholos who all made it a point to speak to Jordin and her and Zee. They all knew Jordin’s bae Ruiz so it makes sense. “I was just about to put my clothes on.”

Jordin said. In the apartment Zaria found a place to put the bag from her dispensary and followed

Jordin to the bedroom so they can both finish getting ready. “You lookin’ all fly, I’m gonna be looking like plain Jane next to you.” Jordin dug deeper in her closet. “Thanks girl,” Zaria replied fast to avoid going more into it. Slightly embarrassed, Zaria didn’t want to tell her friend that she planned on changing but ended up in the same clothes she had on at work, except for the heels.

Like a friend of with the utmost comfort, Zaria decided to cut some music on without asking.

“Motor Sport” Migos ft. Nicki Minaj & Cardi B. began to thump as the girls grooved to the beat.

Zaria turned up the volume on her Beats Pill as much as she could. The song echoed slightly in the bathroom, but neither Zaria nor Jordan seemed to mind as they artfully sculpted their hair and makeup in the mirror. “Let’s enjoy the internet while we can right? With that whole Net Neutrality ruling, streaming cost will be one extra bill that we all don’t need in a few minutes.”

Zaria cringed even thinking about the whole Net Neutrality fiasco. She was upset that it happened, but by the time she was even informed about it the damage had already been done. But she wasn’t going to let it put a damper on her evening.

“Don’t even remind me.” She said while rolling her eyes in disgust before quickly changing the subject. “I still can’t believe you pulled this off, girl. I owe you big time.” Zaria posed at different angles in the mirror studying her everything down to the shadowing on her face and how her outfit fell on her.

“Zee, you know you’re welcome! When ole’ boy told me he could get me backstage passes to this Migos concert I thought, ’Let me call up Zee so she can get her Wendy Williams on!’” Jordin was a true friend. It was hard for Zaria to even believe that they met on Facebook. They were in a Facebook group together several years ago and kinda grew a friendship online. When Zaria finally moved to LA, she decided to hit her friend up. Sure enough, she was just as much of a genuine person in real life as she was over the computer (imagine that!)

“I called for Lyft do you wanna hit the weed before we go?”

“I’m cool. Besides, I can’t be up in this interview looking faded.”

Jordin had a half a bottle of Cîroc sitting on the nightstand and a glass poured. “Just drink some of the Cîroc over there you got half a bottle.” Zaria moved over to the bottle and examined it. “Half a bottle left Zee, it was full but I was pre-gaming.” She laughed and busted into a little twerk and refreshed her glass.

Zaria and Jordin headed to their waiting Lyft. “It’s bout to be lit— you ready for this backstage life?” Jordin laughed hard at her own joke… white girl wasted. Zaria handed Jordin her brownie out of her bag and loaded her vape pen. “Damn, Zee you know how to hook it up.” Jordin took a big bite quickly grabbing for a napkin to avoid a mess. “You said brownie and strong… your wish is my command,

“Zaria said laughing. “Do you mind?” Zaria looked to the driver holding her vape pen so he could see it in the rearview. “No problem Ladies, enjoy!” He seemed proud of himself by the tone, but it was very much appreciated. Zaria puffed; Jordin ate while Zaria explained the Wave and her experience at the protest. They arrived at the concert with Zaria telling her about Garvey and Matt. She noticed Jordin was a bit unsteady when getting out the Lyft, but she got it together and they headed towards the line to the entrance.

“We don’t have to wait in that do we?” Zaria asked concerned. “Huh?” Jordin replied distracted.

“I said…” “Hold on girl,” Jordin interrupted holding her phone up to her ear. “Sorry girl, been textin’ this negro all the way here, with no answer and he didn’t pick up.” Zaria knew at that point that the chances of interviewing the Migos was slim to none. “Let’s get to the front; I’m sure that someone at the front knows him.” Zaria and Jordin maneuvered through the crowd dealing with the pushes, mean looks and arm grabs from thirsty niggas, before making it to the front of the line.

It was a beautiful night in Hollywood; the sidewalks were bustling under the starlit sky. It was an intersection of bad bitches, playboys, Goths, skaters, gays, transgenders, and hustlers all in pursuit of common objectives:

1) To find the place with the strongest possible available over-priced drinks.

2) To find some interesting people to dance up on.

3) To strategically avoid all the homeless and / or mentally ill people who seem to unconsciously amble through the nightlife and its flyness, like walkers on The Walking Dead.

As they walked to the front gate there was another long line of fans wrapped around the building waiting to get in. The DJ already had the crowd rockin’ inside. The bassline from “Bank

Account” by 21 Savage literally shook the ground around the venue. Jordin groaned under her breath as she swung her hair back away from her ear to ensure that the call had not hung up. She then stopped in her tracks and turned to position her body away from the open door from which the sound was emanating.

Jordin leaned against the wall “Zee, is it hot in here? I feel like I’m burning up hot right now. I don’t know if I am too mad at this son of a bitch right now or that edible is hittin’.” Zaria Laughed a little but was still very much concerned. “You ok?”

“I’ll be ok. Going to get security to get him to come out.” Jordin headed to the front gate. “Hi. Do you have a Jordin Walker, plus one on your guest list for the evening?” She asked an older black woman at the front door who appeared to not know who the Migos were, nor did she seem to care.

“No, nothing under that name.” She replied abruptly as she gave Jordin the “you’re holding up the line” look. Jordin spun around to see Zaria was right behind her. “They don’t have my name on the list.

“Keeping calling your dude until her picks up or else we might miss the whole show.” Zaria replied trying to temper her frustration. Zaria‘s intuition started to go off. She could sense that something was not right, and it could indeed be true. She had the sneaking suspicion that she was in the midst of a “nigga mission.” Nigga missions are the worst because they typically involve minimal planning, scheduling or foresight. The irony being that there is an 85% likelihood that the night’s half-baked plans could have been executed flawlessly if they all spent two full minutes articulating what the night was actually going to entail.

Zaria looked at her phone and she had a DM message on IG from Matt, he and some of the

Wave members and friends were having a little get together not too far from the concert. Zaria looked up to see Jordin holding up the wall. Her knees were buckling and she was struggling to remain upright.

Zaria saw the look on Jordin’s face and asked again if she was ok. “Not only is he not picking up his phone, they don’t have no idea who he is or who we are, plus I think that brownie got me fucked up.”

She leaned back on the same wall from before. Zaria jumped into super-friend mode. “Just tell me what you need girl, don’t even sweat it.” She put her arm around Jordin who used her as support instead of the wall and begin to move through the crowd and back out of the main entrance. Jordin managed to call for a Lyft while making it through the crowd even while sick. Zaria decided to ask if Jordin wanted to chill with the Wave since it was nearby. “Hey if you’re feelin’ up to it there is a…” “Zee, I’m done. This brownie got me on the moon and this situation got me blown. Gonna go home and get my feet rubbed.” They both laughed as Jordin’s ride pulled up. Zaria made sure she was ok and the car left. Zaria

DM’d Matt to see if the invite still stood and he sent her the address.

While in the Lyft Zaria talked to Matt on IG, he sent her some photos of the party. Zaria wanted to ask is Garvey was there cause he wasn’t in the pictures, but she didn’t want Matt to think that was why she came.

Zaria: I see ya’ll kicking it hope it’s not a problem me coming by

Matt: Not even, really chill… just had Grubhub bring a bunch of food.

Zaria: That’s awesome, starving

Zaria pulled up to the address to see Matt standing outside fresh off his IG message. “Here!”

Zaria said laughing while getting out the car. “There you are, took long enough.” Matt came to the curb and walked her in the door. The condo was much more spacious then it appeared from the outside.

The majority of everyone was in the living room which had theater seats in front of a large projector. They were playing a Blaxploitation film on mute. 6lack “Prblms” leaked throughout each room. Matt introduced her to people as they made their way to the food. “Garvey couldn’t be here, he had a panel discussion in Jersey. He told me to Facetime him sometime tonight so he can say hi,” Matt said holding his phone in the air. “He knows I’m here?” it slipped out. Zaria meant not to mention Garvey but couldn’t help it. “He will soon,” Matt said with a chuckle. Just then you could see dark skin and locks on his screen. Zaria could feel herself blushing; when suddenly Matt turned the phone to her there was Garvey. His big smile greeted her. “Hi Zaria, I’m glad to see that you could make it to the party, even though I couldn’t.” Zaria could barely speak, “Thanks for having me; I look forward to becoming more involved.” “As you can see Zaria, we are about our business, but we like to relax and have a good time too.” Matt took Garvey around the room while Zaria planted herself in front of the screen. She was feeling the vibe and the closed caption commentary courtesy of the crew over the muted film; she could hardly control herself laughing super hard. “What’s the name of this movie,” Zaria hollered while watching the film. “It’s Dolomite and the Green Tornado” said Needlz before taking a huge bong rip.

Zaria took another hit of her vape pen, while sorta zoning out listening to the commentary and watching the screen. She started thinking about the DeMarr Lacy trail, when Matt plopped down next to her. “Having fun? I have some pictures I want you to look at,” he said holding both his camera and phone.

“Well you took forever, so I know you must have a lot.” Zaria replied with a little sarcasm then a chuckle.

Looking though the pictures Zaria could really get some perspective on the company she was keeping. She was pleased to be where she was. “You know our followers jumped a bit since we posted pictures of you at the last protest-- Garvey wants you in more,” Matt mentioned while leaning in to show the bulk of his pictures on his camera. “Oh really, sure it was the protest, not me.” Zaria was never fully comfortable with accepting compliments. She had been known to make a few heads turn on occasion, but never thought of herself as really anything special. Like anybody, she cared about her appearance though, so the compliment was appreciated. Just then Matt stopped on a picture of Zaria and Garvey from the protest. “Garvey wanted to know if you would mind us posting this picture,” Matt asked while doing some editing. “Sure it’s a good picture, not like you don’t have a hundred pictures from tonight to add,” she replied laughing. “I know but it’s the difference between the types of pictures from chilling and working. Garvey doesn’t want to give off the idea that they are a bunch of militant guys with attitudes. It’s a community of women, men, children…family, you know.” She did and she grew a deeper respect for Matt just hearing him talk about Wave. Matt even pulled up a video on YouTube that he saw that motivated him to become an ally.

Zaria complemented Matt on some of his portfolio pictures, he really had some talent. He offered to do a shoot for her tomorrow at Venice Beach, if she wanted and had time. Zaria happily agreed.

After meticulously combing through her wardrobe, Zaria found two outfits that she felt would be perfect for her session with Matt. She propped her phone up against a bottle of apple cider vinegar while she watched a makeup tutorial to help her get ready. She was glad Matt was able to meet in the morning for the shoot. He had to work on a project for film school that would likely take up the rest of his day. Besides that, Zaria knew it would be getting hot later on that day, and the beach would likely be crowded.

On FB Zaria saw a meme about reincarnation, it said “If you came back, how different or the same would you want to be?” Zaria identified with reincarnation, as she kinda felt reincarnated herself.

She saved it and put it on her IG story. After putting the finishing touches on her ensemble, Zaria made a couple of quick vlogs talking about the Wave’s kickback from the previous night, the fiasco behind that little boy Keaton Jones and his racist parents as well as her impromptu shoot today. Once she saved them to her Macbook for editing, she grabbed her keys and purse and headed out.

Zaria opted to drive to the Santa Monica Pier. She loved the ease of simply calling for an Uber, but on beautiful mornings like this, she preferred to hop in her red Toyota Prius, let the windows down and turn the radio up. Zaria barely drove her car to anywhere but work this week so she headed to the drive thru carwash on the way. With Bryson Tiller pushing through her little Hybrid speakers, Zaria decided to do a Snapchat selfie while in the carwash. She rarely posted Snaps since IG stories came out, but she liked SC’s options as well. While the car came out of the wash Matt replied to her Snap. “Ok, we get it your beautiful… Waiting on you lmao.”

“Sorry close by, car was filthy… thanks btw. See you soon.” Zaria aimed to find a legal spot to park in good walking distance to the beach. At 8am on a Saturday it wasn’t quite as hard as usual.

She grabbed her bag and locked door.

Zaria and Matt decided to meet up on the boardwalk. She noticed him first. There weren’t many people on the boardwalk just yet and Matt was leaning forward against the wood pier taking photos of the ocean and beach. Zaria snuck up behind him “Give me your money and camera!” She said in her deepest most intimidating voice. “Oh no, not again!” He laughed while turning towards her,

“If I didn’t remember your perfume I may have been a little worried.” “Damnit I thought I got you,” she laughed. “So, where would you like to start?”

“Well I have been adjusting my camera to the light and we have about 30 minutes of good sunshine left before the pictures come out funny due to glare. Let’s move closer to the water on the pier and start there.”

Zaria was a bit nervous as she has never done a photo shoot with someone who considers it their passion. She never really considered herself the “model-type”. She really didn’t want to screw it up and waste his time either. On the contrary, Matt was fun and casual. In less than 30 minutes and one quick wardrobe change, they were done. “You sure you got enough? I thought this would take hours.”

Zaria said picking up her bag. “I got like 300 photos so yeah we are good. I can show you some but I should eat something before I pass out. You hungry?” Matt asked while putting away his camera lenses.

“I could eat, but its 10:30, options may be short” … “This isn’t Cleveland Zaria, its LA there is always options… Tacos?” Matt asked. She agreed and they headed down the boardwalk to Taco Libre, a pro wrestling themed Taco joint on the Pier. They both ordered burritos. “I got the check unless you want to split it, I did ask you out here,” Matt said while eagerly sliding the cashier his debit card. After picking up their order, they found a booth and sat next to each other in order to scroll through Matt’s photos while they ate. Zaria was amazed at how he made her look. It had been a long time since she had felt this attractive. Every once in a while, Zaria found herself looking up at Matt’s face. He was so easy to talk to. “I liked your story on IG today, reincarnation huh,” He said curiously. “Yeah I didn’t know you were enlightened,” Zaria said teasing her friend. “So, Matt would you come back the same if you had a choice?”

“What do you mean, white, or male, that type of thing?”

“Exactly,” she replied before taking a bite out of her taco. “I mean, I guess I’ve thought what it would be like to be another race in a ‘put-yourself-in-someone-else’s-shoes’ kind of way, but I was always male. I don’t know if I can mentally imagine being a woman. I would struggle as a woman.” Zaria, was loving what she heard. “So what would you do if you came back as a black male?” she asked while finishing her last taco. “Ask you out.” He said nonchalantly while wiping his mouth with a napkin. Zaria laughed nervously as her eyes darted over to Matt to see how he was reacting to her laughter. He smiled back in her direction, but he certainly wasn’t laughing. Matt did not mention it again and Zaria didn’t either, though she certainly didn’t forget. Matt walked Zaria back to her car. He had to get back to work on his project and headed out after a friendly hug goodbye.

Back to work Monday morning, picking cotton (at least that’s what it felt like at the moment).

Zaria hated every moment of it. Rather than crowding her head with trivial work stuff, she spent her free moments giving some serious consideration to her vlogs. She had been making videos for everything from entertainment news to her auditions to her social life and even her food. But, despite her efforts she still couldn’t seem to make any real traction with getting her followers and likes up. The whole thing seems like a daunting task when you are on the outside looking in. “How can I get up to half a million followers when I don’t even have 1,000 yet,” she questioned rhetorically while auto-filling fields into her computer screen. Nowadays, if you want to get noticed, it’s almost as if you have to do something extreme. Nowadays stealing doughnuts out of a store like Boonk Gang, cooning for the

President , or leaking a sex tape felt like a much more direct path to success than good ole’ fashioned hard work and dedication. How was she supposed “establish a brand” when six months ago no one even knew who she was?

Zaria ruminated on these ideas all morning long. Right before lunch Gabrielle Ruiz, one of the few people Zaria would call a friend at her job, came by her desk. “You coming to lunch, girl?” Gabrielle leaned her huge boobs over the edge of Zee’s cubical. Gabrielle was super attractive but as humble as they come. She spent most of her time away from work devoted to her daughter Isabella, whom she was raising as a single mom. Zaria had made plans to kick it with Gabby outside of work before, but finding a babysitter proved to be too much of a hassle. Out of nowhere, Debbie the racist next door chimed in, “Going to lunch now, at 10:34? That’s mighty early.” Zaria logged off her computer and grabbed her purse. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business, Debbie.” And without another word

Zaria and Gabrielle headed to the elevator. Zaria, really didn’t like Debbie. She knew Debbie kept tabs on her and was the office snitch so she had to keep an eye out for her at all times. Zaria drove to the nearby Brooklyn Deli to grab lunch. Zaria ordered a warm pastrami on rye and took a pic and posted it on her Snapchat.

On the way back into the office, Zaria and Gabrielle said they would figure out a time when

Gabby has a sitter so they can go out. Zaria headed into the crowed elevator which included her boss who was positioned right behind her. With her headphones in, Zaria received text message from

Omar… It was a damn pic! Of course, being that it was Omar, it took up the entire damn screen!

Startled, she quickly dropped her phone. It took 30 seconds for the phone to fall thru the air and hit the ground, or at least that is what it felt like. Much to Zaria’s chagrin, the phone fell face up! Zaria dove onto to the floor like she was LeBron James going after a loose basketball in order to retrieve her 6s before anyone else could see it. It was an embarrassing moment to say the least, and though she did not walk out of the elevator with her dignity, Zaria was successful in keeping all eyes off her NSFW screen.

By comparison, the rest of the work day was rather uneventful. As she pulled up to her apartment, Zaria could hear the notification ring go off on her phone again. It was another text message. Apprehensive to look at it, even with no one around, she unlocked her phone. Fortunately it was just Matt sending her a text:

Matt: Did you hear? They arraigned the 2 Cleveland Police Officers in the death of DeMarr

Lacey.

Zaria made it into the house and cut on her television to watch The Young Turks Live on

YouTube get the full story. After watching it, she called Matt up to discuss it with him. The sat on the phone for over an hour talking about everything from the city of Cleveland, to the court case, and how so many people will find any reason possible to justify the police shooting regardless of its validity. Matt was an extraordinary listener, but he had some very poignant observations as well.

He truly had an amazing way of making Zaria feel comfortable. So often, she found herself lost in the sea of humanity that is Los Angeles, but even knowing that one other person seemed to care about the same things she did meant the world to her. Before getting off the phone, Matt sent Zaria about 5 pictures he wanted to use on the Wave IG page. She loved them all and just asked to be tagged when posting; hopefully that might mean a few more followers for her as well. She hung up the phone with Matt feeling somewhat validated that there were some great like-minded people in LA. Things weren’t nearly as shallow and vapid as the gilded Hollywood persona may lead one to believe.

Conversations like that soothed her soul. Just as she was about to tie her hair up for the night her phone vibrated again. It was Omar, being persistent. Only he didn’t send a photo this time, just a two-word message…

#2BC

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Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP03 – “White Christmas” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

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An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 12/27/2017 Time: 7:55 AM PST

#Mood:

For such a little phone, Zaria’s iPhone 6 speakers were pretty loud. She was lucky to hear it ring at all considering her phone was tangled up in her jeans which were jettisoned across the floor after she eagerly kicked them off in the front hallway of her apartment. This was just before Omar had given her about all that she could handle in the kitchen, and the living room, and the bedroom.

Still groggy, Zaria staggered across her living room floor which looked like a warzone. Omar laid spread eagle knocked out across the bed. He gave a hell of a performance the night before, and although it was against her better judgment, she let him spend the night. She immediately regretted that decision though as she reached into her refrigerator only to find her orange juice carton virtually empty. Who does that??

As a secondary option, Zaria decided to fix herself a cup of tea to get her morning started. She clicked on her TV and set her Amazon Firestick to Good Morning America before setting some water on the stove to boil.

“New developments today in the death of a Cleveland, Ohio teen; Cleveland police responded to a call last week on the city’s eastside. In dashcam footage released over this weekend, we see an unarmed

DeMarr Lacey shot to death by officers responding to a robbery in the area. Lacey appeared to be fully compliant in the video. Meanwhile, a city and a mother are left to pick up the pieces and make sense of this tragedy….”

“My son was a good boy,” a tearful woman said while pouring her heart out into the camera. Her hair was in disarray and her eyes were sandbagged and red as if she hadn’t seen a pillow in years. “I don’t even know what happened. He called me and said he was on his way home from going to {the movies}, next thing you know, I’m getting a phone call saying there’s a problem and I need to come down here… I said, ‘A problem?’ What ‘chu mean ‘a problem’?….”

Zaria’s heart broke for DeMarr’s mother. Zaria remembered seeing a lioness once on the Discovery

Channel that lost one of her cubs. She looked distressed, confused and disoriented without her baby. Mama

Lacey stood there with rollers still in her hair and answered questions about how it feels to find out your son is dead with about half a dozen microphones shoved under her nose and her son’s blood still tacky on the curb just a few feet away. It was just too much. Too, too much. The segment was short, but the damage had been done. Zaria could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She held back the tears as long as she could, but the waterworks started from her eyes and her nose shortly thereafter. Zaria grabbed a tissue off of her coffee table and quietly dabbed at the corners of her eyes before blowing her nose. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was apparently loud enough to cue Omar to exit stage right.

“Hey. I’m about to roll. You’re good right?” This fool seemingly went from buck naked to fully clothed in .23 seconds! Caught off guard by his stealth, Zaria quickly cleared her throat and looked around guiltily.

“Yeah. I’m cool.” She said while fidgeting with the drawstring of her lavender robe.

“Aight. I’ll DM you later.” He said. He pulled the hood on his sweatshirt over his head, swooped in and gave Zaria a swift and clinical kiss on the cheek. The kind you’d give a friend’s aunt or something.

He sure knew how to make a run for it. She felt a sense of relief in having him out of the house, but as she locked the door behind him, she felt an emotion she had never encountered in her 8 months tenure living in California. Zaria felt alone. Not so much in the sense of being homesick or needing company, but more so that she was feeling as if few people could even comprehend how seeing these types of images made her feel.

Maybe Omar was right. Maybe we all had just become desensitized to the savage shit transpiring in the world around us, or perhaps the internet had just tricked us into believing it didn’t happen, or it didn’t matter. As a headstrong person, Zaria had dedicated much of her time and energy into “making it” in LA. Between that and the constant networking she never truly felt lonely, yet she felt alone… that was a good way to phrase it. For all intents and purposes, Christmas felt like just another day for Zaria. Having no family or significant other to commemorate the season with, made her feel detached from the holiday spirit. And though the mild weather was a welcomed change of pace, kids on longboards, t shirts, and DJ Quik songs were a far cry from the traditional snowy Christmas’s she had grown accustomed to in

Cleveland. She was hardly in a festive mood.

Still vexed, she jumped on Facebook to vent her frustrations a little.

It did feel slightly satisfying to verbalize some of the thoughts that were ruminating in her head. Zaria went to the bathroom and turned the water on in the shower as strong as she could bear. The warm water soothed her nerves. She cracked open a new shower gel she bought from Bath & Body Works the other day, “Moonlight Path” and was eager to try it out. The steam helped fill her lungs with a sense of peace, like eating a warm piece of fresh baked bread. The shower did wonders for her. She emerged from her bathroom in a billow of stream, like Beyoncé materializing on stage with a smoke machine.

She posed seductively as if she herself was about to rock the stage. It was just something goofy she did from time to time when no one was around.

In a more composed mood, she had second thoughts about the post that she had made and decided to take it down. Before she was able to though, Matt heeded the “distress signal” and was promptly in her inbox. “Everything cool?”

“I’m fine,” she answered. “I was just trippin’ for a moment. Everything is alright. I played some Gucci Mane everything is fine now.”

Matt clearly found humor in her remark.

“LMAO! It’s amazing what a little Gucci can do for your morning.” He said sarcastically.

“Wanna go grab some fish tacos later today?” Ms. Amina suggested.

“Not today.” He said declined. “Going paintballing today for my brother’s birthday later on.”

“#WPS .” Zaria teased her Caucasian homie about his family’s choice of leisure activity. “You

Ohio people are rough. I can see why Kyrie Irving was trying to get out of town on the first thing smokin’!”

“Low blow!” Zaria was a diehard Cleveland Cavaliers fan and this summer’s antics left her wanting to pull her hair out. The friends made tentative plans to hang out later on in the week.

As part of her morning ritual, she sat at a small white vanity that her mother had given her years ago while she skillfully applied her day’s makeup. It was one of the few things her mother had given her that made her west coast migration. After looking over her fresh face in the mirror she sat down to make a couple of Vlogs about The Offset cheating on Cardi B. tea and her nudes leaking and even the crazy “UFO

Lights” she had witnessed dancing in the sky over Los Angeles a few days prior. Zaria posted her Vlogs quickly, grabbed her iPad, her purse and jacket and headed off to work.

“Did you see how the media was trying to spin the narrative to make the police actually sound like the villains in this situation? ... What about his Mama and those crocodile tears? Hahaha.” Debbie cackled like a dumbass as she stood halfway between the building and the designated smoking area. Zaria hated that shit. One of the few cross sections of the population she had little respect for were smokers. Every day without fail, Zaria would have to walk past her improperly positioned on the walkway blowing smoke like an old Cleveland factory. And though Zaria had no way to prove it, it almost felt like Debbie was purposefully projecting a little more when she saw a brown coworker within an earshot. “You know what?

Now they are saying this kid got arrested two summers ago for fighting at a pool party! Yeah, sure, this kid was a real class act!”

The cold chill bumps on Zaria’s arm started to rise and she held her fist balled tightly at her side.

It literally took the patience of her ancestors to stop Zaria from beating the breaks off of her smug and rude coworker. She was offended, but there was little that she could do in this situation. Even going to HR about it would likely be more trouble than it’s worth. Zaria understood as well as anybody that you can’t fight every battle. Besides, it was too early; the line at Starbuck’s was around the corner this morning and her cramps were kicking like Draymond Green in a playoff game. Today was not the day.

Besides, today was a short work day for Zaria as she had an audition scheduled for later in the afternoon. She decided to check in on Jordin who she had not heard from since her meltdown at the Migos show, but I knew she had learned a valuable lesson that night.

Jordin had recovered from the partying, but she had hardly recovered from the embarrassment. LA is a big town, but the nightlife scene can seem rather small at times. That being said, being carried out the hottest concert in the city by security and your homegirl is never a good look. Not to mention in the age of camera phones, embarrassment is rarely ever temporary. All that aside, Jordin had the heart of a champion and far be it from her to let a little thing like embarrassment keep her from her true passion in life…. Partying. Jordin promised to send her friend an invite to the Holiday day party they had previously discussed. It was coming up this weekend, but Zaria still needed the details.

After getting off work, Zaria hurried over to a small office on Fairfax Blvd for an audition for a gig as a fashion / entertainment reporter. The opportunity sounded like it was right up her alley. The only problem is that there were probably a thousand girls in the city who saw the ad and thought the same thing. There was a packed waiting room at the auditions. So much so, that Zaria couldn’t even find an

empty chair to sit in. Finally, after spending about 35 minutes perusing The Shade Room and an additional

15 minutes preparing, it was Zaria’s chance to get in front of the producers.

The director was a thin, effeminate white male we a pair of gray Yeezy’s on his feet and a black Y-3 jacket tied around his waist. When he lowered his head to squint in order to read her name off the page, she couldn’t help to see that his hairline was eroding faster than the polar ice caps. He didn’t bother taking his eyes off of her portfolio before addressing her.

“Name please.” He said in a monotone voice.

“Zaria Amina.”

“Alright Zaria, thanks for stopping by today. We would like to get a brief sample of your interview skills. So. I’d like for you to interview my assistant, Roger. Except, I need you to pretend Roger is one of the celebrities on my list. Let’s see how you fair. Easy enough?”

“Got it.” Zaria took a deep breath threat to calm her nerves.

“Ok. Zaria, you can pick up that microphone on the table in front of you. And Roger, for this interview, we want you to be….. Cardi B. Alright?” Zaria loved watching Love & Hip Hop and had been following Cardi on IG for some time now. She knew that she could knock this out of the park.

The director finally lifted his gaze upon Zaria’s youthful glow and wide eyed determination. “…And

Action!” He boomed.

“What’s up YouTube? It’s your girl Zaria Amina! I want you to maximize your screen, turn your volume up for this one… Today I’m interviewing the talented and lovely, Ms. Cardi B….. Ms. Cardi, you’re song “Bodak Yellow” is blowing up everywhere. You’ve had a monster 2017…. How has it all been from your vantage point?” Roger did nothing to sell Zaria on the fact that he “was” Cardi B. as a matter of fact, his responses were so dry it sounded like he was reading a wifi code.

“I’m good just trying to work hard and stay focused.” Roger said in his baritone voice.

“No doubt. We’re all out here trying to make ‘Money Moves’ these days. We are glad to have you with us in sunny California, how are you enjoying yourself out here?

“It’s great. Cali always shows me a lot of love.”

“Thank you! That’s enough.” The director interjected before I could finish.

Zaria was confused as to why she was suddenly stopped. The director did not look up from his notes again. Roger nodded, assuring her that what she had done was ok, and motioning towards the door so she could leave.

Just as she made her way to the heavy meatal door to exit, the director yelled out to her…. “Social

Media!” He exclaimed.

“I beg your pardon?” She answered while turning her torso towards the direction of the sound.

“Social Media! Instagram followers, Twitter followers, Snap Chat….. What are your numbers looking like?”

Of course, Zaria was online like the rest of us, but she was still in the early stages of trying to build her brand. Her numbers were…. modest.

“A couple thousand maybe.” She said, almost seemingly embarrassed by her own stats. “Thanks

for your time.” The director said once more. Formally dismissing her from the room. “Is that how

this bullshit works?” She asked herself. Perplexed and slightly frustrated, Zaria left the audition so she could still make her yoga class on time… or close to it anyway.

“Bitch, you’re late!” Prentice said as Zaria shuffled into the packed classroom and unrolled her mat next to his.

“I’m 5 minutes late to every class… So technically, I’m right on time.”

“Ummm. No. Sorry boo-boo. Keep coming late and I will make you sit in the back with that old woman who keeps passing gas or near the window where that bum always rubs himself on the glass during class!”

Zaria covered her mouth to muffle her laughter as she pulled her arm over her head to mimic her friend and yoga neighbor, Prentice Dabney. Tiny beads of sweat were already materializing on his forehead. He wiped his brow with his t-shirt. Rock hard abs peaked out from underneath that would make

Floyd Mayweather put his shirt back on. Prentice was a model and looked every bit of the part. His bald head and lean but muscular frame was unblemished. Not a piercing or tattoo to be seen at all. He was even featured in a toothpaste billboard that hung over the 405 freeway for a good 6 months. He was

Zaria’s most attractive friend by far and had a long list of single and married men trying to slide in his DM’s to prove it. He had been buzzing around the city for some time now as he fought to land a television deal for a reality show that he wanted to create, “The Real Queens of West Hollywood.” Though production had started and stopped several times before, his belief in his vision never wavered. He chased his goals with a dogged determination that Zaria felt was inspiring. On top of all of that, Prentice has a true heart of gold which is what she admired the most. That being said, she was certain he would have something insightful to say about the DeMarr Lacey murder.

“I heard something about it the other day, but I didn’t watch after the commercial break.”

Zaria went on to briefly touch on the major points of the story. She suggested that Prentice even come to check out what “The Wave” was about with her. Despite her compelling request however, Prentice seemed hardly motivated to make his presence felt at any rallies. “I can see the bullshit that is going on right now just like anybody else can. But I’m a couple phone calls away from finally making it. I can’t jeopardize all of this hard work by running around and trying to rock the boat right now.”

“But you speak out on gay rights issues all the time. You even go to rallies.”

“I do. But nobody is going to blackball me for speaking out for gay rights. Meanwhile, look at Colin

Kaepernick. Besides, most of these black marches are set up by the Church or the Mosque and neither one of them ever seem to be particularly welcoming to me or people like me.”

He raised some interesting points that Zaria hadn’t thought about. She paused for a second to pay attention to the instructor before continuing. “Well, I don’t think that this crew is anything like that. They seem totally accepting of everybody who is down to see some change.”

“Now it’s time for high lunges!” Yogi Alexa was always visibly annoyed when she felt Prentice and Zaria were talking too much.

After class, Prentice and Zaria stopped by a local smoothie shop to treat themselves for surviving another workout. “What’s up with that guy you were talking to?”

“Who? Omar? I’m not talking to that boy like that…. We’re just ‘friends’.” She gave Prentice a

shoulder shrug as she stirred her orange and carrot smoothie.

“Can you see him being more than a friend?”

“I dunno, Prentice. He’s kinda a thot.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“He’s a personal trainer.” Prentice almost spit out his smoothie as soon as she said it. “Girl, everyone knows that is the #1 profession for male thots!”

“I could’ve sworn that was modeling.” Zaria delivered her joke with a deadpan face just to get under his skin.

“No bitch, modeling is the #2 male thot profession! Shoot, when you grow up, I’ll tell you a couple stories! Hahaha!”

The two friends cackled outside of the juice bar.

“Besides, when we talk, I get the feeling we aren’t even on the same vibe most of the time, mentally.”

“You need to stop messing around and go get yourself one of them ‘woke’ muthafuckas but a fine one, not the ones that look like they don’t bathe. But a fine one… like Common or Jesse Williams.”

“You make my options sound so limited.” She groans.

“Girl, let’s face it. There’s really only two types of niggas out here in 2017. There are the ones who drink Henny and the ones who drink wheat grass. So which one do you want?”

The nature of the conversation kept leading Zaria’s mind back to Garvey. Zaria looked down at her phone… it was 6:48. She said her goodbyes to Prentice and hustled back to her apartment for a quick shower and change before heading over for the weekly meeting.

She arrived at the small office in Leimert Park that the Wave had been using as their offices for the past 2 years. It was a one room office in an unassuming strip mall. Garvey’s aunt owned the adjoining

Laundromat and had been using the space for storage since 2002. That was until Garvey and crew cleaned out the office space and renovated it. Perhaps renovation was an overstatement. There was an inoperable

Mortal Kombat II arcade game said to be ‘worth some money’ collecting dust in the corner and a busted

Dryer that hadn’t seen action since Obama’s first term. They hung a few posters of Kendrick Lamar, the

Boondocks TV show and The Black Panther party to accent the walls and to make the space their own.

In fact, the space felt more like a college dorm than a workspace for revolutionaries. None of the furniture matched. It mostly looked like worn down school furniture from the 1970’s. Despite the humble surroundings, there was a large logo stenciled into the wall. It was big enough for you to see it

from outside, and for the crew, that logo meant everything.

Zaria arrived a little before the meeting. DJ Needlz was using the spot to polish up on his set while people began to arrive. Needlz was playing one of Zaria’s favorite new songs when she arrived. “When You

Say” Jay 305 ft. Omarion. Beginning to feel a little better after the day’s audition debacle, Zaria saw a woman setting up chairs alone. Zaria decided to go over to introduce herself and to offer assistance.

“Hi. My name is Zaria. Did you need any help setting up chairs or anything?” The woman gave her a bulldog glare making it quite clear that Zaria’s help would not be needed. The woman sized Zaria up with a slow and deliberate pause before responding. “I got this over here. Besides, these chairs are dusty.

Don’t need you messing up your Bob Marley t-shirt…. or your Jordans.”

The irony of her outfit had not dawned on her until this woman pointed it out. The woman looked… rough. Her flat ironed hair was pulled back in a raggedy ponytail. Her clothing was clean, but clearly worn down. It looked like a very fashionable outfit…. from 6 years ago. Regardless of the attire, the

woman undauntedly pulled all of the chairs from along the walls and set them up accordingly. Unsure of what else she could do to help. Zaria scrolled through her Snap story and double checked her email to see if she had any word from her audition… no response.

She took a couple selfies with the Wave logo looming over her right shoulder. The crew was gradually starting to trickle in. The meeting group was small, six people in total. So it only took a matter of minutes for the participants to all arrive.

“Zaria! So glad that you could make it!” Looking up from reading a spoiler for this week’s episode of “Black Ink Crew.” She felt a large presence looming over her. It was Garvey. Zaria’s smile lit up like the Santa Monica Pier Ferris wheel. He planted his long tree trunk arm onto the table, meanwhile wrapping his other arm around her in a friendly hug.

“Hey. I’ve been looking forward to it. I’ve been watching everything going on back in my hometown with the DeMarr Lacey shooting and I just felt motivated to use my voice.”

Garvey raised both of his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re from Cleveland then? I’ve actually been playing phone tag all this week with Basheer Jones’s people this week in Cleveland in order to offer our support.” Zaria was taken aback. Basheer being a well-known activist back in Cleveland, it impressed Zaria that Garvey’s connections and compassion reached that far. Hastily he looked at his watch and noted the meeting was behind schedule. “We’ll talk later.” He said. “I know people have places to be tonight.” “Hey

Briana,” Garvey motioned to the rude young woman with the struggling ponytail. “Can you grab a bottle of water out of the fridge for our guest please?” Garvey opened a notebook to a clear page and began to prep his meeting notes. Briana cut her eyes at Zaria. The distain felt like lemon juice in an open wound, but Zaria had no clue what had raised the ire of a perfect stranger like that.” Briana plunked the bottle on the table in front of Zaria haphazardly; so much so that it fell on its side and almost rolled off the table.

Garvey sat on the corner of a table as he called the meeting to order. “Yo. Everybody. We’re gonna have a short meeting today. But thank you all for coming. I know you’re time is precious. I need to get home to work on this grant writing course and to try to call back some people from earlier in the day.

Anyway… for those of you that haven’t had chance to meet her yet. This is Zaria. Zaria, can you say a little about yourself?”

“What’s up everybody? My name is Zaria. I’m originally from Cleveland, Ohio. I’m out here trying to find work as an entertainment reporter. I’ve been here for about 8 months or so. I love my people and I just wanted to come out here to see what I can do to help keep us safe.” Simple and to the point,

Zaria looked at Garvey to indicate that she was done.

“Again, welcome, Zaria. Let me explain to you a little about who we are and what we do here.

“This is ‘The Wave’. We’re a likeminded group of activists committed to protecting people of color. That’s it. Protect them from what you may ask? Who can answer that?”

The DJ spoke up. “Hey. What’s up Zaria? My name is Marco, but I DJ and I do tattoos too. So everybody just calls me Needlz. We are here to protect people of color from police brutality, racial profiling, institutional racism, economic racism, ignorance and poor dietary habits. That’s basically it.”

Garvey turned his attention over to Matt. “Matt, what’s the significance of the Wave?”

“Waves signify the first signs of turbulence on the ocean. They also may not be strong as individual drops of water, but once those drops come together to form a wave, their power is unfathomable. Waves also signify rebirth and change. We’re here to bring that change about and to transmit our message through airwaves, radio waves…”

“Plus it’s Cali... What’s more Cali than waves?” Garvey joked. “So that’s what we are all about here.” It was sexy to see him control the room. Even with just a small group of people, he owned the room.

You could see that people believe him when he speaks. “Zaria, Where you aware that 963 people were shot and killed by police officers in 2016, but less than 1% were ever even indicted? So they are telling us that if a cop kills a citizen it’s justified over 99% of the time! Zaria was startled by that fact and even jotted it down so she could fact check it later.

“Did you know that 69% of the victims of police brutality in the United States who are African-

American/Black were suspected of a non-violent crime and were unarmed?” So you can see. Clearly we have work here to be done. We are our own organization, built off the shoulders of the Black Panther

Party, and the NAACP, and some of our great Pan Africanist leaders. It’s a new time. 2017 is not the Jim

Crow south. This isn’t your grandfather’s battle, this is ours. This isn’t about hate. This is simply about love for those who are seemingly the last to get it.”

Zaria’s heart soared hearing Garvey eloquently explain what had been troubling her for so long. It was like a warm bath for her spirit. It was as if he had read her diary and responded accordingly. Garvey went on to talk about various ideas they had in the works and plans that had to be ruled out due to lack of funds. The meeting concluded with members giving a recap of what their objectives were for the next meeting based on their responsibilities and skill sets. DJ Needlz was still looking to find work at a nightclub as well as possibly throwing some tattoo parties. Briana was going to continue to develop the website and working on their ongoing budget issues. Meanwhile, Matt was tasked with updating content and postings for the Waves social media accounts. Garvey of course has to finish his grant proposal and meet with city councilmen and educators in the hopes on implementing a mentorship program in a public school. It seemed like everyone was being counted on here. Everyone was important. As the meeting was adjourned, Briana made a hasty exit to go pick up her daughter. Marco packed up his equipment as well, and before you knew it, Garvey, Matt and Zaria were the only ones remaining.

“Hey Zaria, Where did you park?” Garvey asked. He was wrapping his locs into a slightly neater pony tail than he had before.

“I didn’t park. I just caught a Lyft over here.”

“Don’t pay for another ride. Hop in with me and Matt. I can’t drop you off at home, no worries.” Zaria appreciated the offer, plus she didn’t want to spend the additional $10 to get back. The chance to have some time with Garvey was a great selling point too. Garvey drove a gray Toyota Camry.

It was a little cramped for Garvey’s large frame, but he seemed accustomed to the inconvenience.

“You guys hear about that new Eminem album? Asked Zaria. Zaria knew that Matt was a true hip hop head and he would have to have strong opinions about the album.

“I heard it on while I was on my jog yesterday.” Garvey interjected. “Bruh’s heart was in the right place, but this was a big glass of garbage juice egg nog.” Garvey emphatically motioned a “thumbs down” gesture with his hand underscoring his displeasure.

The visceral description of garbage juice egg nog almost made Zaria throw up in her mouth a bit.

But both Zaria and Matt laughed at Garvey’s response.

“Yeah,” Matt reluctantly co-signed. “I was excited to hear it, but it sounds like the weak Em version of a Kendrick album.”

Before they knew it, the crew arrived at Matt’s apartment. He said “peace” to his friend Garvey and Zaria before jumping out the back of the car and jogging across the street to his building. Zaria’s place was 19 minutes away, according to GPS. Perfect!

“You are a long way from home. That’s for sure.” Garvey said almost in astonishment. “So you don’t have any relatives out here or anything?”

It was always low key funny to her when people would say things like this. It was as if she had done something truly heroic like stopping Netflix from raising their prices. In reality she made the only move that she felt she could, the necessary one. “No, I’m pretty much out here by myself.”

“Wow. Do you ever feel lonely?”

“I used to, but not so much lately.” Zaria said with a smirk. She opened the window to catch some of the late summer evening breeze. “So, what’s with the name Garvey? Is that, like, your stage name or something?”

Garvey chuckled. “Why can’t Garvey be my real name?”

“It’s just a little too perfect. You know, Garvey, the activist leader with dreads and earth tones, that whole thing.”

“Well, for the record, my name is Jalyn… Jalyn Garvey. No. I’m not related to those Garvey’s at least not to my knowledge. Growing up in Long Beach, my dad was on some real black power shit. He would takes us out to the desert to shoot guns, taught me and my sister karate and even taught us first

th aid. So needless to say, when I was reading Alex Hailey’s “Autobiography of Malcom X” in the 5 grade all the OG’s in the neighborhood saw what time it was with me and the respected my father. So they would just call me Garvey. It made sense. My son lives with his mother in Jersey. They call him little Garvey. “The record skipped for a second.

WTF? Zaria was stunned for a second. Even with the recent passing of Christmas, she had not heard him reference having any children before.

“Oh. Are you and his mom…”

“--Oh no. We’re not together. She’s in another relationship. He’s a good dude, and he treats my son well. But me and his Mama dated when I went to college out in New Jersey. Things didn’t work out.

But we’re cool. “

“That’s good you have that understanding. Why didn’t things work out for you guys?”

“I was running around campus being a knucklehead, trying to be the man, chasing pussy.” Zaria’s ears perked up with the brutal honesty that Garvey spoke with. “So, you had a good woman at home.

She takes care of you. She has your child. What makes a man want to jeopardize that? I’m curious.”

This had seemingly turned from a casual getting acquainted conversation to a full blown interrogation with a full 7 minutes remaining! “Well, I don’t know that I’m qualified to speak on behalf of all of the men. Haha. But –“

All of a sudden, blue and red lights cut through the night sky illuminating the inside of the car.

“Fuckin cops.” Garvey muttered as he placed his hands visibly on the steering wheel. Zaria heard a knock at the driver side glass. She looked up to see a flashlight shining directly into her eye.

#2BC

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Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP04 – “A Guy that can Make Me Laugh…” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 1/1/2017 Time: 1:32 PM PST

#Mood:

Deep into the down facing dog pose Zaria and Prentice were in a full on discussion much to the dismay of their Yogi. She was telling him about the incident with Garvey being pulled over. “So was he shaking in his boots, girl?” Prentice asked while reaching for his towel to wipe his face.” “Not even, he handled it with no problem, plus he knows the law too well to give them a reason.” Prentice let out a quiet high pitched laugh “I bet you were all hot and bothered, watching him, handle business.” “Wrong again,”

Zaria leaned in closer as the Yogi eyeballed her from the front mat… “it really killed the vibe; the cops know his car he gets stopped all the time. So it was no big deal to him. But for me, it kinda ruined the night. He dropped me off shortly after and went on home." The reality of what Zaria was saying really started to sink in as the class ended. “Yeah you defiantly don’t want the Feds watching, in his profession.”

Prentice responded. They both could agree with that.

Zaria left Yoga and headed to her car. She did a quick Snap while walking, showing off her yoga pants, feeling herself a little. Zaria stopped by her local dispensary for some goodies. She loved that about

LA, the 420 culture was truly become a part of everyday life. Recreational weed becoming legal on January

st 1 was little more than a formality. There are events, parties, concerts a whole subculture living among the mainstream in mutually beneficial coexistence. Zaria did a quick vlog once she got back in the car, showing off some of the items she purchased. Beyond the satisfaction of just being able to smoke a joint with incident, Zaria had been reading up on the many medicinal benefits of marijuana.

When she looked around and compared marijuana to some of the weird concoctions of chemicals these doctors shoving down people’s throats and their disturbing lists of side effects, she felt far better

about indulging in a little weed than she did popping prescription pill or any of that craziness.

Arriving home Zaria was on a mission to find her Raw cones. She refused to buy more at the dispensary since she knew she still had some at home somewhere. After a few minutes of ransacking her closet she found them. She was in for the rest of the day. Zaria was pretty excited about her Sunday

Funday, she rarely buys more than a refill for her vape pen but she was browsing and came across some

Paris OG and was compelled to pick up some. She decided to a do a vlog about the backlash Newsweek was receiving for tweeting out a picture from Martin Luther King’s funeral service. “You would think that a multi-million dollar news outlet with a staff full of accredited professionals would know how to utilize a social media account with some shred of tact.” She said, noticeably perturbed by the entire fiasco. She then rolled a few cones of #ParisOG for the Funday while vlogging about a great book she had just begun reading, “Were Going to Need More Wine” by Gabrielle Union. The response, was overwhelming, Zaira couldn’t tell if it was the fact that the content was new to the audience or they just like to see a cute girl roll up. Either she way gained a few new followers on IG from it.

Zaria woke the next morning to her work alarm, still a little buzzed off her night in “Paris”, OG style.

After a few shots at the snooze button she woke to start her Monday. Looking through her phone Zaria saw an email about the reporter audition, she didn’t get it. They wanted someone with more of a “social presence.” “WTF does that even mean anyway?” She thought to herself. Not the greatest news to start the week fortunately she had low hopes on getting the gig to begin with. Zaria sent a good morning text to

Jordin knowing she wouldn’t get it till afternoon or whenever she decided to drive for Lyft.

Zaria headed into work. As she parked she received a text from Garvey, he sent a couple memes about the police that actually brought a big smile to her face in the car. “This was me last night.” Was the caption.

She was still a little bummed out about not getting the job, and was looking online for more auditions when Gabrielle came by, leaning against Zaria’s cubical. “Hey girl, how was your weekend? Saw your vlog yesterday, it was dope.” She moved around to the opening of the cubical so they could see each other better. Gabrielle had on a mini skirt with heels and a turquoise dress blouse that could barely hold her massive Tatas. Zaira laughed, “You saw that lol, I was on one for sure...weekend was great but found out today that I didn’t land a show I auditioned for.”

“Damn chica, well how bout this, my auntie is picking up my son from school today. Wanna catch happy hour after work?” Zaria was excited Gabrielle was awesome and they never got to hang out. “Defiantly, can’t wait.” Zaria said with a big smile. Even Debbie nosily peeping between the crack in the cubical didn’t bother her the rest of the day.

As the end of the day approached Zaria was already thinking of what drink she was going to order first. She is not a huge drinker but does enjoy the occasional happy hour. Gabrielle was anchored at the front of Zaria’s cubical for the last 15 min of work. Her Hispanic accent and naturally loud voice irritated

Debbie even more than Zaria, and Gabrielle knew it. “Come on chica its 3 min left let’s go,” Gabrielle already had her purse over her shoulder ready to get on the elevator. “Ok Gabby, you do know it’s

Monday, slow moving Monday” Zaria logged off and grabbed her stuff and headed out with Gabrielle.

Gabby found a place not far from the job on Groupon that is supposed to have awesome drink specials, so Zaria followed her.

The bar was already poppin’. Good music, was being curated by the DJ and it was packed with people in their work clothes acting like Monday was the new Friday. Zaria spotted a small table with two chairs in the corner. She tried to tell Gabby but she was looking everywhere and at everyone. It was funny you could tell she didn’t get out much, so Zaria took her hand and led her to the table before it was taken. A waiter came over and got their drink orders. Zaria ordered a Cîroc and orange juice and Gabrielle ordered an LA Water.

“Thanks for coming out with me, this is the first time I was out without my son in 3 months.”

Gabby stretched as if to let go of 3 months of stress in one motion. “You know I’m always down to kick it, girl.” Zaria said. “Seeing all these cute guys in suits here, you might mess around and find your son a new daddy in here.” Zaria said jokingly. Since she was living like a recluse, Gabby seemed insistent on making the most of her time out the house. “No way, girl. My son has everything he needs in life. His uncles look out for him. Trust, I’m not out here to catch a husband find a father for my son… just a man for me.”

Gabrielle scanned the room as if she was a big game hunter. Zaria stayed as long as Gabrielle wanted, she wanted her to have a good time. They took Selfies for Snapchat and IG. Gabrielle’s IG page was crazy 42K followers 2123 Following, and she barely even left the house! Alright, truth be told, she said she used to post a lot of twerk videos back in the day. Now her page mostly consisted of exercise tips for single moms and following her post maternity weight loss journey. Being a single Mom in LA with little support was tough but she was doing it, and had Zaria’s upmost respect for that. Zaria considered asking her some pointers for gaining followers but decided to save it for another time. As they left Zaria gave a Gabrielle a hug as they made tentative plans to hang out again soon.

On the drive home Zaria started to think about her Mom who died of Breast Cancer. She took a hit of her vape pen, she thinks her Mom would be happy and proud she is in in LA regardless. Zaria’s mom always told her to follow her dreams and that she can be whatever she wanted to be. Without a doubt

Zaira wouldn’t be here if that was not deeply imprinted in her. Her deep thoughts were interrupted by a message on Snapchat.

Omar (KingsOfit)

Come thru tonight

Zaria (ZAmina)

What Time

Omar (KingsOfit)

11pm or 12

Zaria (ZAmina)

How about I come by about 7:30 or 8 and we can get some dinner and maybe a movie?

As predictable as niggas can be, Omar was right on time like direct deposit. Zaria knew he wouldn’t reply… an actual date was like Omar repellent. As expected, Mr. Omar was radio silent for the rest of the night. Zaria got home a little cross-faded from the drinking and smoking and decided to binge

Insecure for the second time. She drank a Strawberrita and relaxed. Two more drinks later she was in

Garvey’s DM inviting him over. She was ok with sending the message, but the alcohol allowed her to not care whether she got a reply or not. While on IG she saw Matt was at the Movies seeing “IT”. She decided to DM him. zaria.amina.omg

Finally caught it in the theatre?

Mattlenz

Spur of the moment, plus its weird inviting people to scary movies without knowing if they like them zaria.amina.omg

How is it? I can appreciate a good horror flick

Mattlenz

Its good but as usual not as good as the original, I won’t spoil it for you. What did you do today? zaria.amina.omg

Work… Happy hour… Chill oh and act like I don’t have to work tomorrow morning.

Mattlenz

Lol what time you have to be at work it’s after midnight you know.

zaria.amina.omg

Ok Dad lol… frfr I need to get my butt in bed. Getting up at 7am tomorrow ttyl. Enjoy the

movie . Mattlenz

Ok, good talkin’ to u as usual. You coming to the meeting HQ tomorrow? at zaria.amina.omg

For sure…

Before bed Zaria did an IG Live about the impending indictment of Officers Evan Ruyan and Nathan

Santori. She notices she had gained 30 new followers after the vlog. Looking back at the video she noticed her nipples were pointing at everyone the whole vlog. She contemplated taking it down but then she realized she has been having no luck gaining followers. “Ah well, I’ll blame the sports bra” she thought.

Zaria woke to the sound of rapid Facebook notifications blowing up her phone. Still lying in bed she opened up her timeline to see the news the world has been waiting on. The indictment of the two white officers accused of murdering unarmed DeMarr Lacey. Tears built up in her eyes while scrolling down her timeline reliving the horrific shooting over and over and seeing the interview with Mrs. Lacey in tears. She wished she could just skip the day of work and go straight to the Wave meeting. Zaria maintained her morning rituals to get ready and headed into work. Before getting out of her car Zaria did a quick vlog about her thoughts on the trial. She arrived at her desk 7:08 AM. Alt-Right Debbie cleared her throat about a good 6 times while Zaria is logging into her computer. That was Debbie’s passive aggressive way of her telling Zaria she knows she is late. Zaria could care less about Debbie on any day especially today. The day dragged on and other than lunch in the cafeteria with Gabrielle the day was “blah” at best. Finally it was over and Zaria headed straight for the elevator eager to get to the Wave headquarters, she texted Gabby bye and pulled out of the parking lot.

After arriving at the small makeshift headquarters, the room was buzzing. Garvey was talking to Matt about the IG page in the corner while DJ Needlz was talking to Briana about possible fundraisers ideas. Zaria sat down next to Briana not by choice, but because there was not many seating options. Zaria still remembered how rude Briana was at the Wave kickback the night of the botched Migos concert.

Garvey finished with Matt and headed to the front of the room. “Welcome back my brothers and sisters, I hope you had a productive and blessed week.” His command of a room was chilling in a way you could tell it didn’t matter if it was an audience of 10 like now or 10,000, he would be in control. Zaria started to think about the DM she sent him last night before snapping back to focus on what he was saying. “As you all know the two officers have been indicted for young brother, Mr. Lacey’s murder, but we all know that’s just half the battle. We have been here before and been let down by the judicial system. We need to be prepared to support and demand justice.” He paused, “anyone know what it takes to do that?” Briana spoke up quickly “Money and resources.” She looked around the room resting her stare on Zaria a bit longer than anyone else. “Exactly” Garvey said excited. Now let’s brainstorm some ideas that can raise some funds. There was tremendous feedback most revolved around parties and some sort of function.

Even Briana’s ideas were rather stale. Just then Zaria had an idea, “How about ‘Bowl Your Rights’ seminar on interacting with police and bowling right after. Bowling is free for attendees who answer Q&A. The room went silent for a second as to absorb the idea a bit. It wasn’t the best idea but it was original by comparison and did more than just give people a reason to kick it. Excited Garvey jumped up from his seat. “Love it, it’s all you.” I am sure everyone will give you their full support. Get some info together and a plan and we can start looking to implement it in next meeting. His smile was intoxicating to Zaria in a way, she never could fully focus around him. The meeting adjourned and Zaria’s head raced with ideas for her big event. She could hardly sleep that night as she plotted out her various ideas in her head. Though she was slightly worried she had bitten off more than she could chew, Zaria welcomed the challenges ahead.

“Saturday, You sexy muthafucka!” Zaria thought as she woke up in her big, comfy bed.

The sun was peeking down through the slats in her blinds. Zaria knew it had to be late. She sat in her queen size bed with her comforter and sheets wrapped around her leg like a boa constrictor. She pulled out her phone. 10:16 AM. She played around online, watching videos and reading comments for a good 20 minutes before finally rolling out of bed including a dope new video from some guy named Joyner Lucas

that DJ Needlz put in the Wave group chat overnight.

Her group chat with Prentice and Jordin however was already lit. They had been talking back and forth about tonight’s NYE party since 6:30 in the morning. “Who does that? Sigh. These are your friends.”

Zaria thought as she joined the discussion. She said she was looking forward to the party too. She had bought a new romper that week at Nobody Jones Boutique on W. Pico earlier that week and she was excited to wear it. Zaria asked Jordin if she had any earrings to compliment her new purchase. She even sent them a link to the romper so she could “see the vision.”

“Yaaassss!!!” Exclaimed Prentice. He was mostly being facetious. It was a running joke between us that people seemed ‘disappointed’ when Prentice didn’t “Queen Out” more. So he would make it a point to lay it on extra thick around the girls from time to time. Up went a wall of laughing emojis from the ladies in the process. They made plans to meet at Jordin’s place @ 2:00. This gave Zaria enough time to knock out a couple of new vlogs reviewing the new Will Smith Movie “Bright” and giving her reaction to the new Dave Chappelle comedy specials after she got herself ready.

The rooftop venue had a breathtaking view of the California skyline. But low key, the party guest list might have been more eye pleasing than the cityscape. Prentice was seemingly always in the know for great industry parties, especially for young, black Hollywood. Everyone was gorgeous; it was like walking onto the set of a reality show. The DJ, Teck $ was spinning everything from Tha Dogg Pound to

Big Sean and there was the faint aroma of weed hovering above the festivities.

As Zaria took a snap of the party, Jordin noticed a really cute guy across the room smiling in her direction. He had dimples and ornate tattoos scrawled up the sleeves of both of his arms. He casually licked his lips while stealing glances over at their table. “That guy over there has been checking me out since we got here.” Jordin said while seductively crossing her legs, lining her thick thighs right up with her suitor’s field of vision.

Prentice surveyed the situation and scoffed. “I’m sorry there sis, you know I love you, But I’m quite sure you don’t have the tools for the job.”

Jordin laughed, but not nearly as hard as Zaria. Not one to be upstaged, Jordin scratched back at

Prentice. “Boi, stop! That nigga over there is not thinking about your tool… fool. If anything, he’s waiting for you guys to step away so he can try to see about putting his “tool” in this “tool box. “ This went on for several minutes, mostly to the amusement of Zaria who had no vested interest in the outcome.

Enough was enough, and Jordin finally waved the guy over to their table. His shades still covering his eyes. “Hey. How are you doing?” His smooth baritone voice made the hair stand up on the back of all of their necks. “My name is Charles.”

Charles extended his hand to shake Jordin’s, followed by Prentice’s hand then Zaria’s too.

“Hey Charles. Nice to meet you. These are my friends Prentice and Zaria. I just saw you were over there, it looked like you had your eyes on me. My friend here happens to think you may have been looking in his direction. Could you please correct him and let him know who you were really looking at.”

Prentice attempted to diffuse Jordin’s line of questioning. “I’m sorry bro. My friend is super ratchet. We saw you looking over at our table. We just weren’t all the way sure if you were looking at her or looking at me. No pressure, we just were trying to figure this out.”

Charles looked back and forth between Jordin and Prentice. “I get it. Everything is cool. Relax.” He said while resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “I got enough molly for all of us. We can get out of

here and all go back to my place.” It was at that moment that Zaria noticed how he was slightly swaying from side to side. He was rolling on molly and looked like he was downright nauseous. Disturbed by the situation, Zaria decided to use this opportunity to get their first round of drinks. Meanwhile, Jordin hit the dance floor when she heard her jam “No Limit" by G-Eazy come on and Prentice found some old friends to talk to.

Zaria emerged from the bar gingerly carrying her three glasses of champagne in two hands. She found an empty table, far away from Charles and set up a new base of operations for her crew. Zaria waited for her friends and guarded their drinks like a Doberman. Zaria was so engrossed in checking her phone she didn’t even notice the man who was attempting to get her attention. “Either you are a really good friend in the club, or you are probably in the middle of filming an episode of “Intervention”.

Zaria looked down at the three drinks surrounding her on the table and laughed.

“What? Haha. No. These aren’t… all me. I’m a good friend… not an alcoholic…yet.” “My name is Mitchell McCray, comedian.” He said extending his hand to Zaria.

“Zaria Amina, drink guardian.” She replied, getting a chuckle out of Mitchell. Mitchell had a great smile, which worked in his profession. “You got jokes?” He asked playfully? Zaria was always attracted to a man that could make her laugh. There’s few things more endearing than a man with a good sense of humor.

Mitchell was a comedian from Philly. He said he was inspired to come follow his dream by seeing

Kevin Hart do the same thing. Zaria knew the type of sacrifice it takes to leave everything you’ve known to follow your dreams. Mitchell claimed to have opened up for Kevin in a club back in Philly. Zaria couldn’t exactly tell if he was telling the truth, or simply running game, she was engrossed in the conversation either way. Mitchell reached in his pocket emerging with a strawberry flavored vape pen.

He clicked down on the pen causing it to light up before her inhaled the flavored smoke. It billowed out of the side of his mouth and off the side of the roof. Things had been going so well for Zaria up to that point. She HATED vape pens, those without THC anyway. At least when they weren’t filled with cannabis. “Would you mind putting that away please?” She asked politely.

“Why? What’s the problem?” Mitchell asked with a confused look on his face.

“Smoking makes you look like an asshole. Smoking a vape pen makes you look like a cross between an asshole and George Jetson.”

He begrudgingly complied, putting his vape pen back in his pocket. “California women aren’t usually that abrasive. You remind me of a girl from back at home.” “Is that supposed to count as a compliment?”

“That depends. Did it work?” Mitchell flashed his zillion watt smile. Zaria flashed him a smile in return. “So I’ve never been to a New Year’s Party in LA. There should be a good amount of cocaine around right?” He asked jokingly.

“Good question. I’m not sure. I’ll to check with my dealer.” He appreciated her quick wit. It was not often he was able to find someone who could keep up with his sense of humor.

“So you’re a virgin too? You’re no help! I had some legitimate questions about how this thing is supposed to work.”

“Maybe I can help.” Zaria said while taking a sip of her drink.

“Ok. How late is a New Year’s party supposed to run? Do they start putting people out at

12:30? What about us people from the east coast? It’s been 2018 for 2 ½ hours already on my timeline.

What is the etiquette on this sort of thing?” These were good questions. At least it sounded good to

Zaria who had been drinking. “You know, I suppose the upside here is that there are a couple of hours left in 2017 for me to convince you to come home with me.”

Zaria smirked at his assertiveness. “While I’m flattered by the invitation, I’m not that kind of female.” It was a little gentler than how she normally let’s guys down, but Mitchell had earned that level of respect for being a good conversationalist.

“You say that now, but New Year’s Eve is the most magical night of the year. What could be a better way to bring in the New Year?”

“Besides, I came here with my friends. I’ve got to leave with them.”

“You know what, Zaria? This vibe we got is so strong, I am willing to risk going home with you and your friends and all three of you using me like a piece of meat. If that’s what I have to go through to show you I’m interested, then so be it!”

“Well, One of my friends, is that 6’3” dude over there.” Zaria said motioning to Prentice who was still in the midst of his own heated conversation. Unaware that Zaria’s friend was male, Mr. McCray hastily walked back his previous open invitation to Zaria and her “friends”. “You know what, let me quit while I’m ahead.”

Mitchell settled for exchanging numbers. Zaria reached for her phone and saw that Omar had seen her

Snap from earlier in that dress with the low plunging neckline and responded the best way he knew

how. . He had followed it up with a text message, but Zaria didn’t even bother to open it. She was enjoying her time with Mitchell. Omar couldn’t have been further from her mind. Zaria’s friend’s made their way back over to the table once the coast was clear.

“We’ve got 30 seconds ladies and gentlemen! Get those glasses in the air!”

The crew huddled together while checking their phones to immortalize the moment. Prentice even started live streaming the countdown on his Instagram page.

“5…4…3…2…1… !!!!!”

The club erupted and the friends toasted their glasses in the sky. Arm in arm they embraced, excited for what the new year promised them. Things could be better, but Zaria had seen worse before.

She was eager to see what 2018 had in store for her. These were the types of nights that brought Zaria out of the cold of Ohio. She reveled in having moments like this. California was still new to her, and she was enjoying every moment of discovery and adventure. The crew continued to party into the early evening hours. It was nearing last call when Zaria’s phone began to vibrate. It was a text from Mitchell.

Mitchell: 2 out 3 ain’t bad ;)

Zaria looked across the room to see Mitchell smiling and giving her an animated “thumbs up”.

Zaria laughed before sending him a major “thumbs down” in return. Her phone buzzed again, but this time it was not from Mitchell, but rather an unexpected message from Garvey.

#2BC

Follow us Online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP05 – “A Plan for the Future” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 1/14/2017 Time: 5:47 PST

#Mood:

After catching an Uber home, Zaria rummaged through her closet, her dresser and two bags of clean laundry in order to find the perfect outfit for her guest. Then she changed outfits three times.

After all of that, she wound up wearing the exact same outfit she had chosen in the first place. She cut on Spotify and played her summer playlist while she straightened up around the house a bit before Garvey’s arrival.

The music thumped from her Beats Pill as she swiffer’ed her laminate wood floors. So much so, that she could hardly hear the knock at the door when Garvey arrived. She stood on her toes to check the peephole. It was Garvey. Zaria took a deep breath and a quick glance in the mirror before unlocking her door. She was so focused on her appearance, she didn’t even notice that two bags full of groceries in his hand.

She opened the door to see Garvey grinning from ear to ear. Despite having two hands full of groceries, he managed to wrap his arms around Zaria for a slightly awkward, yet satisfying squeeze.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize you meant you wanted to cook.” She said as Garvey unpacked his bags.

“Yeah. Well, I’m sure that guys take you to Olive Garden and Cheesecake Factory every week. But if you want to make a lasting impression, sometime you have to think outside of the box a little bit.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Zaria started to become a little self-conscious and began to look around the room to see Garvey’s cause for consternation.

“So… you really like the Migos, don’t you?” He said it with a hesitation in his voice that made it clear that her musical choice was not to his liking.

“Hey now, the Migos are lit!” Zaria said in defense of her favorite Atlanta trio.

“They’re cool. I’m just more of a Kendrick / J. Cole type of guy myself.” Garvey answered with a shrug. Zaria could respect it. She always had an appreciation for the substance of K. Dot and the creativity of Cole. But when it came to hitting the dance floor or even just twerking in her chair at work, she needed something a little more ratchet for her playlist.

Zaria elected to change the music to Big Sean whom she felt was a bit more of a compromise for both of them.

“So what are we making?” Zaria asked while tying the strings of her apron behind her. “Well, I was thinking we could make some mac and cheese, some red beans and rice, a salad, and some of my famous chicken strips. I also brought a bottle of wine to wash it all down.”

Zaria always fancied herself to be somewhat of a foodie. So a handsome man who wanted to come over and make dinner for her was certainly more than welcome. Garvey took his iPad out of the bag and leaned it up against a vase on the table. He pressed play on a YouTube video on how to making vegan mac and cheese.

The two began their evening of good food, good smoke and good conversation.

“So you are from LA?” she asked while pulling a large mixing bowl out of the cabinet. “Watts, born and raised. I grew up in walking distance of the Watts towers. Had to walk past them every day on my way to school.”

“So you’re a home team kind of fan?” She asked.

“Of course!” he said with a smile. “How could I not rep for LA? I love this place.” He snuck a piece of carrot into his mouth off of Zaria’s cutting board. “The weather, the beaches, the diversity, the progressive thought…. I went to college in New Jersey and I’ve done quite a bit of traveling, but for me, I couldn’t think of a better place to call home. What do you think as someone who has spent more time out here than a tourist?”

“It’s cool. I’ve enjoyed my time out here on the west coast thus far.” She said while gesturing for Garvey to help her open the wine. His hands were rugged like a man who had worked hard to get everything he earned in life. Despite being an activist, Garvey had grown up under his dad’s foot in his small repair and auto body garage in Watts. By exerting a small bit of force, the cork jumped out of the bottle before landing on the floor.

“When my dad wasn’t teaching me how to replace a radiator, he was talking to me about Huey

P. Newton and Malcolm X and the school to prison pipeline and self-defense. My pops was no joke. He’s still a bad man to this day… Damn near 70. Hahaha.” It was cute to hear him talk about his father with such reverence.

A wonderful aroma was starting to rise from the stove as Garvey began to cook. “Keep in mind;

I came up right after the LA riots and right before the OJ trial.” Race relations have been strained everywhere, but things have been tight out here for a long time. Now that we have President Chump out here fanning the flames, I don’t see things getting better anytime soon.”

Zaria watched as he skillfully worked his magic in the kitchen. She noticed a scar on his forearm and asked him about it. “Oh, this?” He responded, Motioning to old wound. I was just a teenager in the wrong place at the wrong time…. Wearing the wrong colors.”

“On some Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City type stuff?”

“I guess you could call it that. You wanna see something crazy?” Garvey raised his shirt, exposing a six pack of abs that looked like an action figure. He had several tattoos scrawled across his body. Zaria could tell that he worked out regularly. “Touch right here.” He grabbed Zaria’s hand and ran it across her rib cage. “You feel that?” She ran her fingers across a steep groove in his chest. That’s when a cop cracked one of my ribs with a baton back in 2012. Now one of these scars was from kids fighting in the street. The other one is from paid, trained professionals, with weapons.”

Their conversation volleyed between the new N.E.R.D. album “No One Ever Really Dies”, bad first date stories, and a hotly contested debate on “The Walking Dead” vs. “Game of Thrones”. They both had an affinity for “The Boondocks” cartoon, NBA Basketball and bonfires at the beach. By the time dinner was ready, the wine was flowing, the marijuana was lit and for the first time in ages, Zaria could literally feel the peace washing over her body. Being with Garvey felt real. It felt fuckin right.

When dinner was ready, Zaria set the table while Garvey turned his iPad to NPR. He asked her opinion about the possibility of Oprah running for president. Zaria even told Garvey that his favorite

st show, ‘Atlanta’ would be returning on March 1 ! The meal was great, but Zaria was so engrossed in the conversation that it caught her off guard when Garvey asked how her meal was.

“Everything is really good.” Zaria said.

“Did you try the buffalo nuggets?” She picked one up and placed it in her mouth. Garvey reached for a second helping of salad. Zaria paused for a moment, mid chew.

“This ain’t no damn chicken nugget….” She kept chewing, trying to process the symphony of flavors from what she was eating. “This is good as hell. But it ain’t no damn chicken nugget.” Garvey’s laughter echoed in the dining room.

“What are you talking about? It tastes just like a chicken nugget!”

“What the hell is this then?” Zaria screwed her face up with a slight tinge of concern.

“Relax girl, it’s cauliflower! LMAO, these corporations will have you paying top dollar to poison yourself with that crap on the shelves, but a man shows up with some vegetables and you wanna act like

I brought anthrax.”

“Wait a minute my dude. You are 23 years old. When is the last time you had a chicken nugget?”

“A real one? I don’t know, shit, like10-11 years maybe, why?” Zaria shook her head while she

rd finished inhaling her 3 cauliflower nugget.

“Nigga, then how are you going to tell me what chicken nuggets are supposed to taste like if you haven’t had one since Kanye put out his “Graduation” album?”

They rolled into a fit of laughter as the two of them debated the legitimacy of Garvey’s authority on the taste of meat based foods. Zaria’s cheeks were beginning to hurt from laughing so much. It had been a grip since she had felt this intimate with someone. She preferred not to even think about those times. Zaria finished off the last of Tej, an Ethiopian honey wine. She had never had it before but she loved it.

The two of them finished off what they could eat, and packaged the rest up in Zaria’s fridge. As they finished washing and drying the dishes, Garvey’s phone went off on the table. The ringtone was

“Magnolia” by Playboi Carti. Garvey leapt like a jaguar and bounded the room in two large steps.

“I didn’t picture you to be a Playboi Carti fan.” Zaria said, slightly surprised by his musical selection.

“I’m not. But my son loves it.” He picked up his android off the table. “Hello….Yes. I was still going to call. I was just finishing up dinner…… Yes, I know what time it is in Jersey… It’s the weekend.

Yes. I’d like to talk to him right now. Just give me one moment over here to get ready.”

Garvey cupped his phone and held it cartoonishly far away from his face as he spoke to his date.

“Hey Zaria, I was supposed to call my son before he went to sleep tonight, so his moms is kinda trippin’.

I’m gonna get out of here. I got an early morning tomorrow anyway.”

As much fun as they were having, Zaria respected Garvey’s commitment to his responsibilities.

He headed out the door in haste as his son was hopping on the phone. “Hey big man! How’s my son doing today? Are you listening to mommy?” Zaria suddenly remembered the iPad still sitting on the kitchen table. After hurrying back inside to grab it off of the table, she waved her hands to try to flag him down before he pulled out of the parking lot.

The peace and relaxation of the weekend was met with a shot of 151 on Monday morning when

Gabby emailed Zaria to let her know that the shit was about to hit the fan.

It was hardly the type of news that Zaria wanted to hear before she even had her cup of morning coffee. Debbie was a miserable person. The prejudice seemed to exude out of her pores like liquor in a sauna. Generally speaking, everyone in the office was cool. Most, like Zaria were part-timers, mere looking for a few bucks to pay for acting classes and head shots. But Debbie was a different breed. She took her job seriously “gosh darnit.” Perhaps a little too seriously. Though she was concerned, Zaria had far too much on her plate to dwell on Debbie.

The email that Zaria had been expecting finally arrived from a bowling alley in Watts that would allow them to host their event. It was a small step, but a step nonetheless. Zaria knew that she wasn’t from the area. Nor did she have a ton of followers. As a matter of fact, the only people who had even bothered to

RSVP on Facebook for the event up to this point were the rest of the homies from The

Wave. When you have a tight buget to begin with, it is hard to put down a deposit when you have no assurance that anybody will even come to your event.

As her own concerns, began to steadily mount Zaria began to brainstorm ideas for a flyer she wanted to create. It would be a let down to the group, to Garvey, to herself, and most importantly to the young people in the community if this event was not a success. One thing about Zaria is that she had always been the type of person who could put their head down and run through a brick wall if they wanted to. Once she made up her mind that she was going to make an impact for the betterment of the communtity, there was little anyone could do to dissuade it. This event had to be lit.

After scrolling down her timeline, Zaria read up on the story of Kanye and Kim’s new baby girl. She made a quick vlog about the story in her car before heading into Whole Foods. She had found a recipe for vegan muffins on Pintrest that sounded really good and thought it would be cool to bring them for the next meeting. As she passed through the store looking for soy milk and blueberries, Zaria’s mind kept harkening back to her dinner with Garvey and the realness of their connection.

On here way out the store, she recevied a text from Mitchell.

Mitchell: YO!! I’m holding this fart on a crowded elevator right now. Word to the wise: No

refried beans before a casting call.

Zaria laughed so hard that she snorted by accident. The sheepishily looked around to ensure nobody else heard that shit.

Zaria: Just let it go and blame somebody else! They won’t know it’s you that’s got the elevator

smelling like !

Mitchell: Enough of the sweet talk. What are you doing later today? Let’s hang out later if you are free.

Zaria enjoyed Mitchell’s lightheartedness and his overall cool demeanor, but she wasn’t feeling him in that way. Rather than to lead him on, Zaria opted to do the gracious thing and to try to let him down easy.

Zaria: Sorry Mitchell, I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. It’s not really a good time for us to be going out all like that.

Mitchell: I am sooo tired of Trey Songz stealing my girls! I can’t sing, but I can play “Can you stand the rain?” on my kazoo! Mitchell: Nah, it’s cool. Besides, I’m patient. I know how to wait for my shot.

“I let him down easy, right?” Zaria asked Prentice at the juice bar after their yoga class. She was still wiping sweat off of her brow from the workout.

“It’s 2017 why are you worried about these niggas and their feelings? I haven’t seen a letdown that nice since that Tupac movie.”

Prentice’s wit was like California drought. Full of heat, dry as hell and sure to leave a few suckers looking dusty in its wake. “He’s a sweet guy… I think.” She said defending her young comedian suitor. “It’s just not the right time for all of that for me.”

“Timeout. Who are you trying to convince right now, me or you? ‘Oh, it’s not the right time.’

I bet if Michael B. Jordan walked in here right now your ass would find the time! Shit, I bet if Omar was to walk in here you’d make the time for him.”

His satire only stung because it was true. Half true anyway. Mitchell couldn’t be a priority in

Zaria’s life because she simply did not want him to be, straight up. As for Omar, Zaria wasn’t thinking about that boy (not much anyway.) She proceeded to correct her friend on his observations.

“Meeting new guys is cool and all. But I’m really not even focused on all that. It’s not like I came to

California looking for a husband. I came here to chase my dreams, and my dreams are certainly bigger than 9 inches!”

Nobody understood Zaria’s drive for success like Prentice. The friends continued their banter until Prentice had to leave to clean his barbeque grill in honor of his upcoming birthday party this

Friday. He reminded Zaria to respond to her e-vite before peeling off up Fairfax in his cherry red Porsche

Boxster.

Zaria returned home from yoga sweaty and bored and after a long shower she was on a vlog marathon talking about everything from the latest spring fashion trends to the DeMarr Lacey case. At the same time, she had been scouring the internet for auditions. She locked down 3 new auditions she met more than the basic qualifications for. One was for a host of a YouTube page. Zaria started to think about her image. “Who is Zaria Amina,” she thought. That question scared and excited her at the same time. She watched over some of her older vlogs comparing them to her newer ones. She made adjustments to all of her social media pages to ensure that she is comfortable with what the world sees at the same time ensuring what is left is worth the world seeing. Zaria was doing some light browsing online for venues for the bowling fundraiser. A text came thru from Matt it was a link to a press conference being held by the officers accused of murdering DeMarr Lacey. Preparing herself to be disgusted she opened the link. The conference focused on painting DeMarr as being a disturbed kid with an aggressive past. It was sickening really.

Zaria: WTF… They on some irrelevant BS.

Matt: Yeah it’s going to get pretty ugly it seems, hope the Lacey Legal team is ready… more than that hope the family is ready. His Mom doesn’t seem to be dealing very well.

Zaria: How could she... Not only did she have her son taken from her but not has to deal with social opinion justifying it.

Matt: They will need support... Oh yeah how is the Bowling even coming along

Zaria: I was just looking at venues…

Matt: You don’t have a venue yet? Ok Zaria, don’t let us down.

Zaria knew that stepping up to take on the planning of this event was a big deal, but even though

Matt tried to lighted things with the meme this was a real organization with real expectations. She got on the phone and started calling venues. Locking down the venue meant that she could focus on the hardest part… Promotion. With her fledgling social media presence Zaria worried about drumming up buzz and ticket purchases.

Zaria began to realize being new to the city didn’t help her in locking down a bowling alley with the: availability, space, good location, and fits Waves modest budget. Zaria did a vlog about the event and even asked for suggestions of locations and even deals on her IG and Snap stories. After many good tips from friends/followers, and random unhelpful DMs from thirsties who see asking a question as a invite to send a pic, Zaria locked in the venue. She felt a lot better knowing that she wouldn’t show at the meeting with nothing done but she defiantly was nowhere near comfortable with her progress.

Monday breezed by without issue, lunch with Gabby and dirty looks from Debbie, just the norm.

Zaria was feeling a bit anxious about the Wave meeting. She knew she was not making the progress that was needed to pull the event off. Zaria pulled up to HQ and parked, she took a few pulls from her vape pen before heading in, to take the edge off. Zaria entered to see Garvey was not there. Matt was by the desk with his camera plugged into his MacBook. She took a seat beside a empty seat and one with a jacket draped across the back. Zaria leaned over to get a mint out of her bag, when the owner of the jacket on the seat next to her returned, it was Briana. Their eyes met as Zaria leaned up, they gave each other a half nod and that was it. Matt closed his laptop. “As you can see Garvey isn’t here, he had a speaking engagement that came up that he couldn’t miss. He gave me a list of things we need to go over, so lest get to it.” Zaria admired that Garvey trusted Matt to run the meeting in his absence, even more that Matt was doing very well. She couldn’t focus very well knowing that soon she was going to explain her progress, just as she concluded her thought Matt asked “Zaria, can you give us an update on the fundraiser?” Hit with her first dilemma, dose she sit or stand Zaria kinda moved to the edge of her seat and straightened her back to ensure her voice projected. “Well its more than just a fundraiser it’s a seminar first and a Q&A on interacting with the police. This will be able to give the community a chance to get to know us but also for us to get to know the issues close to home… she paused. I have locked down a venue that meets our needs and budget. I am working on promoting the event and start getting RSVP’s and by next meeting.” Zaria saw that most people brought the fluff but she heard Briana suck her teeth and say under her breath “Cutting it close” sarcastic s hell. Matt must of heard the comment or saw something be he quickly digested what Zaria said “Thank you for the update. I know you fairly new to LA so if you run out of resources or just need some help utilize the team here. This event was #1 on the agenda Garvey gave me so I know it important.” Zaria could barely contain herself sitting next to Briana the rest of the meeting. Matt ended everything, making sure everyone had their tasks for the week. He had to run to class but said he would hit Zaria up later.

Briana was about to head out Zaria still heated decided enough is enough. She headed out to make sure she caught her before she left the parking lot. Zaria walked up on her, a familiar but almost forgotten feeling of her days having to deal with hating girls growing up in Cleveland. “Briana, you have a second?” She tried to ask as polite as she could. “I guess” she replied while unlocking the doors of her dirty Civic the baby seat and laundry basket of clothes freshly folded in the backseat.

“What’s up with the comments and dirty looks?” Zaria asked leaning in a bit to ensure Briana knew she expected a real answer. Briana somewhat surprised by Zaria’s tone put a hand on her hip tossing her braids to the other side of her head. “I just don’t like fake. Think cause you let you hair go natural and you can look cute in a Wave t-shirt that makes you ‘woke’… All I see is you batting your eyes at all the guys while you took on a serious project that means something and you playin’ games.” Briana shook her head… “Just a matter of time until everyone else sees it.” Zaria was fuming, she had hit people for saying less but instead she took a few breathes, “First of all you don’t know me, why I am here or where

I come from. You don’t know my struggle, goals or aspirations. Just like I don’t know yours. I do know I believe in What Wave does and can do, I believe in myself and that I can bring value, and I know there will always be some hater who wants to use labels to defend jealousy. There are two women in those meetings, I know I took on a lot been here 6 months barely a social media presence. But it’s a good idea, and will help a lot of people. Keep you looks in comments to yourself, feel free to reach out if you decided to stop the BS and lend a hand. Zaria turned around and walked to her car, she didn’t want a reply because she only had but some much control left.

Zaria stopped to get some groceries. She hit Jordin on Messenger to tell her about what happened with Briana. It wasn’t that she was very proud of confronting her but more that she had been telling Jordin she has the stink face for some time. Jordin also had 16K followers on her IG and growing now that she broke up with her boyfriend Ruiz “again”.

Zaria: So I had to let this big head girl Briana from Wave have it today… it’s a long story. we should meet up if you’re free.

Jordin: For sure Zee, come scoop me I gotta hear this.

Zaria: Ok let me drop off these groceries.

Zaria arrived home and changed into come much more comfortable but cute clothes. After a quick vlog on minority women being their own worst enemy, she grabbed her vape pen, keys, and purse and headed to Jordin’s apartment. She took a quick Snap and sent it to Jordin showing she was on her way.

Zaria thought about ideas for promoting the event. She knew if she had a concept Matt would help, from there must spread the word and get some RSVPs’. Arriving at Jordin’s Zaria noticed that it was quite in front of her apartment, the usual group of Mexican guys was not present. Then she remembered her and Ruiz broke up. Jordin came to the door; her big smile lightened the mood immediately.

Zaria went into the apartment; Jordin offered her a drink which she accepted. “So you let that

Briana have it... What happened?” Jordin asked while pouring the Cîroc over the ice and fruit punch.

Zaria went into the details. Jordin has heard of Briana from the get together the day of the Migos concert but didn’t know much else. Jordin told Zaria about her and Ruiz, she caught him in a lie said he was out all night camping out for the new Kendrick Lamar Nike “Cortez Kenny

1”s

but was really hanging out with his ex. Jordin agreed to post and share about the even as soon as Matt emailed Zaria back the completed flyer. That helped set Zaria’s mind at ease a bit knowing she was not alone. With Jordin and Prentice on her side and likely Gabby she was optimistic that the event could be successful. Zaria and Jordin headed to a Mexican spot close to Jordin’s apartment for some tacos and margaritas. Zaria posted a story on IG of her and Jordin with the caption “Event planning with my bestie stay tuned for more info.” All of the Wave members viewed the story, Garvey replied with a meme.

Some fish tacos and 2 margaritas later Zaria received a DM and follow request from Briana.

Briana wrote, “Sorry for all the issues, I truly didn’t believe in your intentions for being here and not only do I see I was wrong but also that it’s not my place to be judging anyone. Anyway, this is bigger than us so I am here to help in anyway, hope to hear from you.” Shocked Zaria showed Jordin right away.

“Damn Zee, what you say to that girl she did a whole 180.” Jordin said laughing while taking another sip of her mango margarita. Zaria and Jordin finished up and headed back to Jordin’s, she hopped out and headed in she had to drive for Lyft soon. Zaria decided to head home and prepare for her audition for the YouTube channel host, after reading what they were looking for she felt it would be a great fit. Zaria did all her research on the channel, previous host, fan base, sponsors basically everything you could know about the channel. She did a Vlog about the audition before bed. Zaria was working early the next day so she could make her 2pm audition so sleep was a must. Before bed she check her SnapChat and there was a Good night Snap from

Garvey, thanked her for working so hard on the event, it will all pay off. “Good Night, Zaria can’t wait to see you soon.” Zaria talked to or facetimed Garvey daily now, she was really happy with where they were. She was not sure where it all was going but he made it easy for her. Even though he thought my talents would be better used on the Wave front line he supports her goals.

Zaria awoke early. She sat at her vanity envisioning herself at the audition, she felt well prepared but her lack of social presence still sat in the back of her head. The day went by with ease, coming in early had its perks one of the best was less time with Debbie, she comes in at 8:30 every day even though her shift starts at 9. You would think she did it to just be a good employee but really, she is there to be the first to the drama. If there was drama in the office Debbie was rarely far away.

1pm came and Zaria was logging off her computer. She figured she may catch Gabby on her way back from lunch before heading to her audition. As Zaria stood up Debbie cleared her throat, “So you came in at 5am?” Zaria couldn’t even see her face from the side of the cubical. “Mind your business

Debbie,” she grabbed her purse and headed to the elevator without saying another word. Even

Debbie the downer wasn’t going to get in her head today; she had a good feeling about the audition for some reason and was riding the wave of optimism.

The audition was relatively empty in comparison to the others she had been on. It was about

12 women, and none looked like Zaria. When it was her turn a young white women with a tiny mini skirt came to the door and called her name. “Ms. Zaria Amina, we are ready for you… we have been very excited to meet you in person.” That comment made Zaria a bit uneasy, “do they follow me?… have they seen my vlogs?… do they say that to everyone?” Zaria tried to clear the thought of doubt from her head as she entered what looked like a small movie set. They had the little room decked out like a legit news desk. They motioned Zaria over to the empty chair next to one of the host, a young white girl who seemed way too friendly. They handed her the topic gave her two min to get familiar and told her to follow the other host’s lead. Zaria did exactly that and then some, she could see that the producer was impressed and there were even a few chuckles from a witty joke she told. The audition ended and they thanked Zaria and promised to be in touch soon. She had yet to feel this confident in an audition since moving to LA but she also knows what it feels like to be let down.

It was mid-week and Zaria had not yet heard about the audition. Zaria was making some headway on the fundraiser. Brianna had become much more helpful and even nicer, Jordin was racking up a few RSVPS, even Prentice and Gabby were pushing the word out there. She still was short of her goal but with some time left it was looking like she could pull it off. She had not talked to Matt this week, really not as much at all since seeing Garvey somewhat regular. Zaria was very aware of the perception of her dating Garvey being new to the organization but Matt should know she is down and of all people shouldn’t judge. While doing a little late evening scrolling and face-timing with Garvey her phone rang it was a familiar number, she knew it was from the audition. She told Garvey and he told her to answer and good luck! This is the first time they didn’t just shoot her an email or message that they went in another direction. She answered as calm as possible, “Hello, this is Zaria.” They loved her audition, she didn’t have the social media presence of some that auditioned but they said her social media presence seemed genuine. She got it! Finally, Zaria thought. “I moved her with a goal, I have friends, a job I earned on my own, and I am a part of something that matters. She stated to think about how proud her Mom would be, she felt good to be an independent black women She laid down on her bed on a natural high and decided to scroll Facebook for a bit and see’s President Chump is across the airwaves for calling other countries “shitholes”. This guy is supposed to be our president?...

WTF?

#2BC

Follow us Online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP06 – “Likes” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC Guest Writer: Nyla Hicks

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 1/21/2017 Time: 10:16 am PST

Mood:

“So, Drake, what is your favorite ice cream flavor?” “DJ

Khaled, how fast can you really change a diaper?”

“SZA, Girl, if you had to spend the weekend with one person living or dead, who would it be? “I’m you’re girl Zaria Amina… I’m here with…”

Zaria sat alone in her apartment practicing her interview style and rehearsing questions.

She recorded them on her phone in order to play them back to critique her performance. Burrowing through her walk-in closet, Zaria mixed and matched outfits trying to find the perfect look for the camera. She even spent about 45 minutes looking up YouTube hair tutorials to find the perfect style that she could pull off of her own, finally settling on a cute but simple jumbo flat twist.

She went back through the company’s Website, LinkedIn Page, YouTube account, Facebook

Page, Twitter account, and 3 Instagram Pages that were all started for the company around the same time. Then she looked up the Facebook pages of all the names she saw attached to the project. Zaria was as ready as ready could be.

“So are you gonna put in your two weeks?” Gabrielle asked while she added sugar to her coffee in the break room. She wore a beautiful orange skirt with black heels and matching earrings. She always took pride in putting together her outfit and it showed.

“I don’t know. Probably not yet.” Zaria said.

“Now that they gave that culero Debbie that promotion, I’ve been on my phone at my desk the last 2 days on Craigslist looking for jobs. I don’t even care anymore.”

Zaria buried her face in her chest to muffle her laughter. “Relax girl. Trust me, I’m not here for it either, but you don’t want to cut off your nose to spite your face. I don’t want to see you and your daughter out here couch surfing because you went off on her goofy racist ass.”

Gabrielle was only half joking. Suddenly, as if she had almost been listening, Debbie emerged from her new corner office with a shit eating grin on her face. “Team. I need just a moment of your time.

Wrap up the calls you are currently on.” She motioned for people to gather in front of her new office door. Zaria and Gabby lingered to the back of the pack as if they were high school students avoiding being called on.

“Come in close y’all. I won’t bite.” Debbie ensured her staff, though it seemed as if no one believed her. “I just wanted to take a quick second to get all of my peeps together to say that I am excited to be taking over as the new department manager. In order for us to be the best department we can be, we are going to make some minor adjustments to how we do things around here. With that being said…. Effective immediately, this is an English only call center. Our job centers around phones and communication. An employee who is not speaking English on the call floor is severely handicapping themselves and those around who would be able to help them… if we only knew the language. If you are caught speaking Spanish, you will be written up and put on a corrective action plan.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and muttered something in Spanish before let out a deep sigh. It would take here a moment to process the magnitude of Debbie’s prejudice.

“Second order of business: Company guidelines do permit the use of headphones at ones desk during the work day. However, you must maintain an appropriate indoor volume at all times. No one wants to hear your rap music at 7:30 in the morning. “Debbie refused to look Zaria in the eye, but it was abundantly clear that this criticism was aimed directly at Zaria. “Miss. Amina” as Debbie would refer to her was not going to let Debbie’s ego trip ruin her day.

“These white people somehow found a way to get President Chump into office, and they’ve been showing their entire ass ever since.” Zaria remembered election night clearly. Sorry to see Obama go, She reluctantly casted her vote for that creepy old white lady with the smile of a used mattress salesman. Sure, it was against her better judgement, but anything had to be better than the alternative.

Chump was the walking embodiment of everything Zaria loathed.

She hated the pompous tone, the blatant lies, and the perplexing half-truths spewing out of his chicken lips. He was a money grubbing Nazi sympathizer…. At best. This clown denigrated his own party members, verbally berated women, bragged about physically accosting them, and spewed countless hours of hate / fear based rhetoric against basically any fucking body that wasn’t a part of his target demographic. “The American people can’t possibly be dumb enough to elect a game show host as president. They halfway didn’t want to give the job to Obama and he graduated from

Harvard Law School.” Or so she thought.

As she sat there with a glass of merlot and watched the results roll in on her iPad, what started off as a fun, lighthearted and historic evening turned into an ominous reminder that racism is still alive and well in this country. That’s right. If racism stinks, the current administration was taking a dookie right on our living room floor.

Zaria opened up her apartment door the following morning as if she was stepping outside to a post-apocalyptic world. Sure everything looked the same, but somehow the world just felt… different.

Debbie peacocked around the office for a full week as if she had just hit the Powerball. Zaria slathered the most convincing “life is awesome “ grin that she could muster across her face just to not give Debbie the satisfaction of seeing her wilt at the sight of the new president-elect.

That was almost a year ago, and the flames of hate and bigotry that he had stoked throughout his entire campaign seemed like they were engulfing the nation. By no means did Chump invent intolerance in this country, but he certainly knew how to dog whistle all of the bigots and racists behind his campaign.

Despite the unsettling news of Debbie’s promotion, Zaria was still elated at landing her new show and couldn’t wait to clock out on Friday in order to celebrate her weekend away. Prentice’s b- day party was on Saturday and Zaria couldn’t wait to turn up with her “Bae” on his big day.

Jordin sat with her legs crossed while staring wantonly into her glass. It was half empty. “I don’t think I have ever been to a party with so many attractive guys and gotten so little attention before.”

“Cheer up bitch,” Zaria chided remorselessly. “You knew you weren’t about to find nobody up in here tonight. You really were looking to find a nigga at your gay friend’s birthday party? You sound like the intro to an episode of “Cheaters”…. Zaria stared blankly forward as if she was a “victim” on camera.

“I met Donquavis at my gay friend’s birthday party. We started dating. I was stunned to find out he was living a double life.”

Jordin roared with laughter after seeing her friend’s deadpan delivery. “Hey. It’s all good. I don’t have to be the center of attention every night. I’m a team player. I’m Steph Curry, not Lebron.”

Jordin was a Golden State Warriors fan and would never miss an opportunity to throw some shade at

Zaria by way of her affinity for Lebron James and her hometown Cleveland Cavaliers basketball team.

“You know, it’s amazing how many ‘lifelong’ Golden State fans ‘popped up’ in LA once everyone realized the Lakers and Clippers both stink.”

“Wait a minute. Are we seriously the only two women entrenched in a full-on sports discussion in a room full of niggas? How did it come to this?”

“Reasons why we’re single. #Hustlingbackwards!” Zaria laughed while slumping her shoulders and hanging her head in shame. It was in that moment that Zaria caught it out the corner of her eye. She noticed a man discreetly reach through the crowd grabbing a fistful of another man’s ass. Now the was hardly abnormal and perhaps even a little tame for a party at Prentice's house, however, it wasn’t the activity that caught Zaria off guard so much as it was the offender. His name…. well, his name wasn’t important. He was the love interest in several of her favorite black movies. He was the one who without fail would be casually playing basketball… shirtless, washing the car… shirtless or brushing his teeth shirtless within the first seven minutes of any film he was in. His pretty boy persona had never given off these vibes to her before, but seeing him caressing another nigga with a full on beard made her look at homie in a totally different light! She had just seen him on the Wendy Williams

Show not too far back talking about his girlfriend and his committed relationship.

Zaria whipped out her phone and leaned in toward her friend. Almost instinctively, Jordin snapped to attention, angling her head and smile towards the lens. Zaria snapped a couple of pics with her tipsy friend and her clowning on the couch, but she was sure to angle the back camera perfectly so she could get a clear glimpse of the C-List actor over by the snack table, grabbing on the honey buns.

“My hair look good in this one, tag me in it.” Jordin demanded before handing Zaria her phone back. She put her phone back into her purse. The festivities continued as the crowd sang happy birthday had a soul train line, and even raised a toast to Zaria and her new gig. The party was lit and the party carried on until the wee hours of the morning. Daylight was hitting the crack of her ass when Zaria finally crawled through her apartment door. She kicked off her shoes and pants in the hallway and mercifully plunged into a heavy sleep sprawled out across her larger gray sectional.

“I don’t dance, nah, I make money moves… I don’t gotta dance, I make money move…” Zaria was jolted up from her trance-like sleep state by her ringtone. She checked her phone to see she had already missed 2 calls from Prentice. It wasn’t even 8 AM yet.

Here voice sounded like a ’77 Chevy Impala starting up on a frosty Cleveland morning. She cleared her throat deeply before greeting her friend. “Hey Birthday Boy. What’s up?”

“Did you take any pics of my guests at the party last night?” She could hear the seriousness in his tone and sat up in bed to address the situation properly.

“No. I wasn’t taking pictures of your guests. It was a party, I took pictures of you and the cake and a couple selfies…. That’s it.”

“Oh. Well, Jordin told me that you might have had some pictures of some guests that didn’t want to be photographed.” Zaria could not believe that Jordin had snitched on her like that. It wasn’t that Zaria intended to do something wrong with the pictures, but she damn sure knew what she was going on in the background. “It was a party. I took a few pictures. I didn’t realize it was a big deal. I can send you a drop box of all of my pictures from the party. If there’s anything you don’t approve of, let me know and I will get rid of it.”

“Ok. That’s cool.” He said in a very catty tone to Zaria. She could tell it wasn’t cool. “You know

Zaria, everybody at that party wasn’t… out, or as comfortable as I am. Some people have spouses, but some of them simply aren’t ready to take that step and some others don’t want to come out for professional reasons. Regardless of their reason, my home is a place where their privacy and dignity is respected. At all times.”

At first, Zaria was offended by the way Prentice was stepping to her, but the more he expressed, the more she realized the error of her ways. Zaria destroyed the pictures in question. She apologized to her friend for her lapse in judgement sent him the remainder of her photos to prove he had little to be concerned about.

Feeling rather salty about the phone call with Prentice, Zaria moped around all day long. She probably wouldn’t have spoken to anybody, had it not been for a well-timed text message from Matt.

It was hard for Zaria to argue with his logic and soon as it was quittin’ time, Zaria hurried home to change outfits before hopping in her Toyota Prius and heading to the beach. The sun looked like a giant red ball plunging into the Pacific Ocean as inched her way to her destination up the Pacific

Coast Highway (PCH). She blared a new song from Syd as she sucked away on a THC lollipop while creeping her way through the rush hour traffic. She was still feeling shitty about how things transpired with Prentice, but she was determined to not dwell on it.

She arrived about 20 minutes before sundown. Just in the nick of time. As promised, the crew was already there… well almost everybody. The fire was already going, the beers were already cracked, and the familiar aroma is freshly burned cannabis tickled Zaria’s nose.

“Hey Zaria’s here!” Wesley popped his head up from the speaker. His stage name was DJ Wes

Needlez. She presumed it came from his love of DJing as well as tattooing, but Zaria never bothered the probe. His signature Kool-Aid smile immediately welcomed Zaria after her weary trek. He was lounging on a blanket with his girlfriend Rosalie. He was setting his portable speaker to play “Last Time that I

Checced” by Nipsey Hussle, one of his favorite songs of the moment.

“Hey Wes. Hey guys.” Zaria said as she looked around for a space to sit.”

“Here. You can sit on my blanket.” Matt said as he moved a bag of Doritos and his weed grinder out of the way to make room. She grabbed a seat and gazed out onto the tranquil waves as they smacked against land shore. The sun was fading into the night but its shine twinkled off the black lenses of Matt’s shades.

“SpongeBob? Really?”

Zaria looked down at the faded “SpongeBob Squarepants” blanket that Matt had them sitting on and laughed.

“Hey. Don’t knock SpongeBob. He’s the man. Besides, I’ve had it since I was a kid. My Nana gave it to me.”

“Your Nana? You know, Matt, you let your inner white boy show every so often. It’s cute though.” The crew had a good laugh at Matt’s expense. He turned beet red in the process.

The guys made sure to offer Zaria some of the various “party refreshments” and commenced having some very heated discussions about the government shut down, the upcoming Super bowl , and even what is the true definition of cheating?.

An evening on the beach was just what she needed to help bring her out of her funk. Needlez

and his girl had to leave first. Rosalie had to be up early for work. She was having fun, but after the sun went down Zaria caught her dozing off wrapped up in her blanket. Brianna was next to drop off. She had to pick up her daughter Maya from her sister’s house. Before she knew it, Zaria and

Matt were the only ones left.

The soft orange glow of the fire pit illuminated their conversation as Zaria explained the debacle at

Prentice’s party to Matt. He mostly sat quietly to let her vent. He threw the last few twigs in the fire to keep it going and finished up smoke his joint giving Zaria the floor to speak her mind. He didn’t actually say much of anything to help, but just being a sounding board for her anxieties was what she really desired.

Zaria felt like a small burden had been lifted off of her shoulders. She was ready to head back to

Yoga and see her friend Prentice. She was ready to head into the office to deal with Debbie and she was even feeling better about the success of the “Bowl Your Rights” event. The fire burned itself out and the last plumes of smoke ascended, blending into the night sky. Zaria fumbled in the dark with the flashlight on her cell phone as she started to help Matt pack up his supplies and trash.

She looked up and suddenly found Matt standing right in her personal space. He leaned in and planted a passionate kiss one her lips. Stunned, Zaria stood in amazement and did the only thing that seemed natural in that instant. She ran.

“Zaria!” Matt yelled out. Zaria took off like a wild animal, kicking up tufts if sand in her wake.

She felt all of the anxiety that she had before come rushing back tenfold. She could even bare to look at Matt’s face after what happened. She ran all the way back to her car. Peeling out, she cruised down the PCH trying to make sense of everything. She liked Matt for sure, but he was like a brother to him.

At least that’s how she saw it.

When she got home, she realized that her dead battery caused her to miss 2 calls and a text message. All from Matt.

Text said “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I thought that was kinda my window. I think you are really cool and we have great chemistry. It just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment.”

Still utterly stunned and confused by what just transpired, Zaria turned her phone face down on her bed. Her head was swimming, but her body was exhausted. She melted into her sheets. What did all of this mean? Had she done anything that could have led him on? Or was he just reckless like that? And what about Garvey? Should she mention any of this to him? The weight of it all drug Zaria into a deep slumber.

Zaria awoke to a true American horror story; she looked at her cell phone to see it was 8:54 AM. She had overslept and her shift was scheduled to start in 6 minutes! SMDH. She wasn’t the type of girl who needs hours and hours to get ready. But at a minimum she knew she’d be 30 minutes late regardless. She quickly washed up; put a sweater over a mildly wrinkled blouse, and the first shoes she could grab (even though they didn’t match her outfit.)

Trying to keep it low key as possible, Zaria slipped into her cubicle like a smooth criminal… or so she thought. Debbie peeked through the blinds in her new office just like a nosy neighbor. The only difference is she wasn’t across the street…. She was 15 feet away.

Zaria checked the time on her phone while she was eagerly waiting for her computer to start up, 9:47. She also saw a missed text message from Gabby:

To make matters worse, Zaria got a reminder notification on computer letting her know that her annual review was going to be scheduled with Debbie in 2 days…. Fucking great.

BRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Zaria’s phone was face down on her desk when it started to vibrate.

She flipped it over to see a DM from Omar. This was the third time he had hit her up this week, but then

Zaria noticed the cute Filipina girl who had been liking all of his pictures and commenting enough

to clearly stake her claim. It was cool if Omar wanted to do his thing, but Zaria didn’t want any drama or any surprises. Clearly someone’s feelings were involved, and Zaria certainly did not want it to be her.

Rather than entertain Omar and his shenanigans, Zaria decided to give Mitchell a call, the comedian she had met at the New Year’s party. Pleasantly surprised, they made some quick impromptu plans to meet up for some Jamaican food.

Mitchell leaned in to give Zaria a hug when she arrived. He smelled great, which was a huge plus in Zaria’s book. He sat down across from her with his million dollar smile, and finely sculpted haircut, down to his manicured nails, he was as polished as could be. As if he was always ready for the camera.

It was a bit more high maintenance than she was accustomed to, but she was here for it. Mitchell liked to hear himself talk… a lot. “Perhaps it’s a ‘him being an only kid thing.’” Zaria pondered while he looked furiously scrolled through his IG page to verify his claim that Deion Sanders came to one of his comedy shows.

“Oh, so you’re a football guy? Are you boycotting the NFL this season?” Zaria asked while cutting a plantain in half with her fork.

Mitchell laughed before taking a swig of his Red Stripe beer. “Ha! What do I need to boycott?

I’ve been watching all of my games on my Amazon Firestick anyway! The NFL ain’t getting no ratings off me! That Firestick gets pixelated though, oh boy…. It looked like Odell Beckham Jr. was a player on old school Nintendo football.”

Zaria laughed. “Touché, my nigga. What about the whole Kaepernick thing? You think he should have been standing for the flag or nah?”

“Honestly, the NFL became one big circus this season. Some players were kneeling. Some players put their fist in the air. Others locked arms. Some players stayed in the locker room… Then you had fans booing the players during the anthem? Who’s really the ones being disrespectful here? You are booing through the song that you want other people to show respect for!”

“So what do you think should happen?”

“I don’t know about all that stuff. I’m just a comedian. I ain’t no politician.” He

answered, dismissing his accountability. “Besides, those niggas got money. They’ll be straight.”

This made Zaria’s blood boil. “So, you’re saying that black people with money should not be worried about the rest of us? Or that they don’t have a right to speak out when they see social injustices?”

Like any good entertainer, Mitchell could see that he was losing his audience. He back peddled on his statement in hopes of keeping the peace. “I’m not saying that. But, Russell Westbrook signed a

$205 million dollar contract in Oklahoma City. He could walk down the street buckin’ naked on

Monday afternoon and sit his bare ass on the City Hall steps. The police would show up and say…. ‘Mr.

Westbrook…. That was a hell of a triple double last night sir! Keep up the good work!’ He doesn’t have to worry about police brutality like the rest of us.” Mitchell was quite amused with himself and let out a belly laugh. He was kinda doing the most, but Zaria just figured that laughing hard was his way of proving to her that he was actually funny… or something.

“You know what, Mitchell, if the Colin Kaepernick situation has shown us nothing else; it’s that no amount of money or fame can raise you above the status of being a nigga. They will spend hundreds of dollars to watch you play, put their kids in your jersey, do your end zone dance when they win the week of fantasy football, but the minute you take a moment to acknowledge an epidemic of murder in this country, what do they say?..... ‘Fucking niggers! Who are you to have the nerve to want more police

accountability? How do you have the audacity to want equal treatment? Just stick to sports!’ You don’t know what these guys are experiencing in these white suburbs. Besides, even if you feel you did make it

“above discrimination”, that doesn’t mean their brother’s, cousin’s, sisters, uncles, friends etc. will be as lucky. To me, that alone is worth fighting for.”

The date soured quickly and at the bad vibes hung in the air around their table life a fart. Zaria shoveled the food in her mouth and began to scroll through her IG for entertainment. As far as she was concerned, the date was effectively over. Zaria went to the bathroom and called for an Uber.

Before she could even get back to the table, her phone was vibrating and her driver was outside. She placed a crisp $20 bill on the table in front of a befuddled Mitchell, enough to cover her curry chicken, ginger beer and tip.

“Yo, are you serious right now?” Mitchell questioned Zaria as she turned to walk out. She turned around and looked at him leaning his chair back on its hind legs out of frustration. “It’s not that you don’t feel how I feel when you see discrimination. It’s that everything is just some big joke for you to find a punchline in. Everything doesn’t need a fuckin’ LOL.”

“I’m a comedian!” He shouted at Zaria as she spun around heading towards her waiting ride. His comedy had fallen on deaf ears. The door swung open and Zaria strolled out of the restaurant leaving

Mitchell alone to finish his Red Stripe. Irritated, Zaria made a vlog anticipating her first staff meeting for her show the following day. It was the best way to keep her mind off of all of the stresses that life had been throwing at her lately. After posting her video, she smoked a joint while helping herself to a giant bowl of frozen yogurt while catching up on the latest episode of Rick & Morty.

The sun hung high in the unblemished California sky as Zaria made her way into the studio offices for her new show. She could barely contain her excitement as she walked down the street. In the lobby she was greeted by Madison, a bubbly, blonde haired college intern who seemed happy just to be around the creative process.

“Hi! Za-riyah?” She said while extending her hand for an eager handshake.

“It’s Zaria.” She said firmly.

“I’m sorry. You know what I mean. I ‘m sorry, I always butcher all the weird names.” Before Zaria

nd could even fix her mouth to respond, the office door opened as a 2 intern led two other young women into the room. Zaria recognized one of the girls immediately. Her name was Alexa Ivory, a drop dead gorgeous Instagram model who dated about half of the rappers on your Soundcloud playlist. “She has to have atleast a quarter of a million twitter followers” Zaria thought as she suddenly worried about her job security.

The director walked into the room with a tablet in his hand and a faded, form fitting black t-shirt. He looked down his glasses at the three women standing before him. “Hi Alan, I’m Rachel,

Professor Cardwell from USC recommended me.”

“Oh yes! Jerry and I were both Student Teachers in the Creative Writing dept. at USC. Now, he’s a Professor there. Did his wife have the baby yet?”

“Not yet. The baby is due at the end of the month. The baby shower is next weekend.”

Zaria could not believe this shit! She felt as if she had been railroaded. She walked in ready to get to work on her new show, and suddenly, it seemed as if she was fighting for her job all over again.

Except only now, her competition was a social media darling and a pretty college graduate who is alumni with the director. How was Zaria supposed to compete with that?

Feeling slightly threatened, Zaria attempted to stake her claim. “Hey Alan, Great to see you again.

I was so excited when your assistant called last week to say I got the job.” He looked at Zaria like she had ringworm. “Yeah. We decided to revisit that. It looks like we will be going in a different direction.

But thank you for your time. We will be sure to keep you in mind for future considerations.”

“What?” Zaria blurted out. “You told me that I was who you wanted. What if I had quit my job already?”

“Then get a new one. I don’t know what to tell you sweet-heart. Thank you for your time.” Zaria

looked to each side of her and saw these girls with their Dr. Miami boobs and their film school degrees and their twitter followers and their connections and she realized how truly outmatched she was. It was as if she was the only one in the room that was aware it was her job.

Was this some sort of joke? Was she being Punk’d? She noticed the Insta-ho’s lips were moving as if she was attempting to hold back the laughter from Zaria being sent home. She excused herself making a hasty exit out of the office, past the bubbly intern and back out onto the street.

It felt like shit just couldn’t get any worse. Not only had she cut off Omar, but things went left with Matt, her job was stressing her out and the big opportunity that she had been praying for, the one that was gonna put her on the map went up in a cloud of smoke. The other stuff was all secondary, but getting the rug pulled out from underneath her the job in particular made her feel like a failure. She made it in the house and went to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and cried. The last time she had felt hurt like this was practically another lifetime ago. That feeling of not being good enough was consuming her. She tossed and turned through the majority of the night questioning her talent, her choices and some of the decisions that had led her to this point in her life.

Zaria’s leg shook nervously the following morning as she stared at the floor number change above the elevator. Of course, the second elevator was out of order. It was already 9:03 and Zaria knew she had her review scheduled with Debbie first thing this morning. After clocking in, she took a quick glance in the mirror at her desk and scurried into Debbie’s door. She walked in to find Debbie engrossed in a conversation with Marilyn, her only real friend in the department. “Millennials don’t believe in knocking?” Debbie said to her friend with a sarcastic chuckle.

“Excuse me,” Zaria sheepishly conceded. “I know we had a 9:00 meeting scheduled –“.

Debbie raised her finger as if to silence Zaria as she cut her off. “Correct Zaria, we did have a meeting set for 9:00. When 9:00 came and went and you were not even on the floor, I asked Marilyn if she wouldn’t mind moving her morning schedule around to accommodate your tardiness. Being the team player that she is, she agreed to do so. Once Marilyn’s review is complete, I will need a need maybe ten minutes or so in order to make some ….. updates to your review. Then we can get this thing out of the way. Alright

Mz. Amina? Zaria returned to her desk, uneasy about what “updates” Debbie intended to make.

Zaria finally received an email from Debbie requesting her presence in her office. Zaria entered the office apprehensive about what to expect. Debbie sat behind her desk with a smug look on her leathery sun beaten face. “Zaria, have a seat.”

“This is like a spider inviting a fly into her web.” Zaria thought to herself, half-jokingly. She obliged anyway.

“Alright Zaria, I have another meeting coming up, so let’s cut to the chase. Production wise, your numbers are the highest on average on the team. However, you’ve also been tardy on 3 separate days within the last 4 months. 3 tardies exceeds our company guidelines. Therefore, I am going to have to institute a written warning to you today.”

“Wait a minute, what about my verbal warning?” Zaria objected.

“I sent out an email to the team last week about tardiness and the importance of adhering to your allotted schedule…. Speaking of which, that brings me to my next point. Our office is being asked to support the New York call center hours. So we are realigning shifts here. We are going to need you to start coming in at 5:00 AM to handle our east coast clients. Your new shift starts Monday morning.”

“5 AM? Are you crazy? The hours I agreed to under my contract are 9-6. I’m not doing that!” Zaria bullishly declared.

“Actually Zaria, your contract states that you are to work 9-6, but that is subject to change as business need dictates. Business need now dictates that you be here from 5-2.”

Zaria lost it! “Look! I have the best numbers on the team, I help train the new people, I even worked overtime to fix those accounts that you switched by accident last month! I can’t come in at the crack of dawn like that. It’s just not going to happen!”

“Wait a minute now. There’s no need for you to act “that way” up in here.” --

“Debbie what do you mean ‘that way….. Up in here!?’ What does that even mean?”

Zaria’s voice was now raised and there was no turning back. The commotion was so loud that heads started peeking up over the tops of the cubicles to see where the disturbance was coming from.

“See now, this is what I’m talking about Zaria. You are being highly disrespectful and aggressive and…. Angry.”

That 5 letter word set off Zaria like few words could. It wasn’t a profanity, but it trivialized all the shit she had to put up with on a daily basis. “Angry? You’re damn right I’m angry. You sit here and trivialize the work I do here even though it’s the best on the team. Then you reprimand me and change my shift by 4 hours as punishment without as much as a verbal warning. Who the fuck do you think you are dealing with here?”

Debbie was flabbergasted! No one had ever dared to speak to her in such a manner before, certainly not in a work setting. Her eyes widened like an anime character. She pursed her chicken lips as she tried to formulate some sort of rebuttal. She wanted to talk tough, but Zaria could see in her eyes that Debbie didn’t want no smoke. “You know what Zaria; you are way out of line. You can just go home for the day. How about that? Come back tomorrow when you have a more positive work mindset. We have no place for your thuggishness here today. Go home! Come back when you know how to conduct yourself in a professional manner!”

“Debbie, This little hourly wage gig is not worth my self-respect. Your slights don’t faze me, your position doesn’t scare me and your punishment means nothing because I quit. You want to micromanage things? Well, now you can manage DEEZ!” With that, Zaria hopped up out of her chair and began to show herself out of the office.

By now the sales floor was silent as everyone was frozen stiff trying to discern the blowout emanating from Debbie’s office. Zaria strutted over to her desk, grabbed her purse and made her way to the exit without even stopping for Gabby. There was a lot of change on the horizon, but Zaria embraced it. After all, things have to get better from where they are right now.

#2BC

Follow us online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP07 – “A Million Little Lights” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 1/28/2018 Time: 4:55 pm PST

Mood:

Zaria did her best to keep up appearances online, but she was mostly frontn’ for the gram.

Deep inside, she was miserable. In the course of a couple of weeks, it felt like everything she had been working to build in LA professionally and personally was falling apart like some swap meet sandals.

Feeling dejected and demoralized, it was the first time since Zaria first stepped off the plane that she had to look in the mirror and ask herself “What are you doing here?”

Jordin had been blowing up her homegirl’s phone to check on her, but Zaria was hearing none of it. Phone off. Ringer off. She plunged deep into her couch, deep into depression and deep into binge watching the first three seasons of Game of Thrones. It was officially “fuck it season” in the Amina residence, at least for a day or two. Her cheese pizza was delivered by Pizza King, her weed delivered via weed maps and she proceeded to bunker down in her house away from the world until she figured out her next move.

Eventually, Jordin was able to track her friend down by showing up at her door unannounced.

“Damn girl, you look like shit!” She said mockingly as Zaria opened the door. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Zaria was still in her pajamas. Her hair sat in a ponytail with several errant hairs sticking out randomly. Her place was filthy with dirty dishes piling in the sink and dirty clothes strewn about the floor.

“Why does it look like an episode of Hoarders up in here?” Jordin carefully crept through the living room as if she were afraid of unsettling any critters that called the apartment their natural habitat.

“Bitch, get your ass in the shower and get dressed. I’m not gonna let you sit in the house like something is wrong. You’re an out of work actor with a chaotic love life. LA has more of you than LA Chargers fans!” Like a ray of light on a cloudy afternoon, Zaria’s smile finally cracked through the dreary atmosphere.

“Ruiz is working security at a store in Fox Hills Mall today. We are going to use 35% shoe discount. If that doesn’t put a smile on your face, I don’t know what will!”

After much poking and prodding from her girl, Zaria got clean and threw on some jeans and her favorite gray and pink Air Max’s and a cute shirt she had picked up from Victoria Secret. They made their way into the mall and it was packed as usual. Sure enough, Ruiz was working the door at a small shoe store just off the food court. Sure enough, Ruiz was standing by the front door. Ruiz was one of those dudes who spent more time inside of the gym more than the treadmills. His muscles had muscles and they were practically popping out of every possible spot under his black “security” polo shirt.

Jordin walked up to him and he gave her a casual hug. He looked around conspicuously as if he didn’t want to claim her at work… or perhaps he just wanted to remained focus. After a brief smile and wave to Zaria, they girls went inside to handle some much needed shop therapy.

“You know, you could drive for one of the Ridesharing apps until you land another job. My cousin’s friend said she was driving last week and picked up India Love, the model. You never know, you might even make some industry connects if you drive.” Zaria hadn’t considered being a driver, but now that it was presented to her, she began to warm up to the idea of driving in her spare time for some extra cash.

“Have you heard anything from Prentice lately, Zee?” Jordin asked while trying on some strappy being heels? “Not lately. I apologized to him after the whole selfie fiasco. He said everything was cool, but I could tell he was still mad. Girl, I think he even started going to the earlier Yoga class because of me.”

Jordin seemed genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of Zaria’s relationship with Prentice and that resonated with Zaria. Nowadays it’s easy to find people who want to come around to see if you are going to “spill some tea”, but few are there offering ideas and constructive criticism. “I would give him a call if I were you. Sometimes, you’ve got to put in that extra effort to show someone they are truly appreciated.” Jordin advised. Zaria saw her point and planned on reaching out to Prentice. There was no need to lose a great friend over such a small discrepancy.

Just as Jordin was asking if they had a black stiletto in a size 6 in the back, Zaria’s phone rang it was a text message from Garvey.

Garvey:

Chapelle had been Zaria’s favorite comedian for years. She recognized the skit immediately, but

it still made her laugh like it was the first time all over again.

Zaria: Lmbo! . Garvey quickly followed up Zaria’s response with a phone call.

“Hey Zaria.” Garvey’s voice was like coco butter, smooth and soothing. His flight had gotten in late last night and they hadn’t seen each other since she stormed out of Debbie’s office. “Word on the street is that you walked out that piece like Jerry Maguire!”

She cringed at the thought of how the scenario even sounded being retold. It wasn’t something she was particularly proud of in the least, but Zaria felt resolute in her choices at that time.

“Not exactly.” She retorted. You and I both know that a white man could carry on like Jerry Maguire.

The world will always see him as edgy and ambitious. If you or I do that, then we’re just being “ghetto”.

“True dat. True dat.” He said in agreeance. “Well. Now that I’m back in town, I was wondering if I could take you on a date tonight. A real date. It sounds like we have a lot to catch up on. Would it be cool if I come pick you up for dinner later?”

“Are you going to get us pulled over again? Maybe I should just drive.” Zaria’s dry wit was not lost on Garvey who remembered the near calamity the last time she had ridden in Garvey’s car.

She could hear Garvey crack a smile through the phone. “Very funny. Hey. It’s no telling what these cops are gonna do out here from one day to the next. But I’m a law abiding citizen. If they pull me over again… When they pull me over again, they will have to let me go again. Just like the last time.”

“I know. I know. Geez. It’s just jokes.” Zaria said. “If anybody knows what type of time these cops are on, it’s me. I wasn’t trippin’. You had your eyes on the road, Hands at 10 and 2, your seatbelt was on…. You are a respectable motorist sir.” She said in a mockingly formal tone. “Yes. I’d love to go out on a date with you.” After making plans for that evening, Zaria went back to enjoying her time with Jordin. She even found a pair of shoes for herself to cash in Ruiz’s discount on. On Sunday, Zaria and Garvey made their way to the Leimert Park Art Walk.

They leisurely sauntered through the booths, shopping, enjoying the music and each other’s company. It was 85° without a cloud in the sky. Zaria was excited to wear a colorful yet sexy jumper that she had just

ordered online the other day.

“I’m glad we finally have the time to go out on a real date. I’ve been trying to figure out when

I could find the time to do something like this with you but between my traveling for work and your schedule, it’s been hard.”

Zaria smiled. The wind blew her hair softly as she looked up to see Garvey and his dimples smiling back at her. “Yeah, well, now that I left my job and my show fell through, I‘ll have plenty of free time.” She said sarcastically.

Garvey was not trying to hear it however. “Yeah, right! You’re a hustler. I picked that up about you early on. Anybody who makes it out here all the way from Ohio with no family or nothing has to be about their business. Besides, I think it’s just dope that you would stand on your principles and walk out on the job when you see you aren’t getting the respect you deserve. That’s real power. When nobody can hold a check over you and regulate your conduct. People with money don’t even have that type of power. Think of all the celebrities and athletes who lose endorsements for saying some shit they weren’t supposed to say! They don’t have the freedom that you do.”

Zaria was still feeling awful about her situation, but Garvey had such a way with words, that she could feel the knot in her stomach loosening as Garvey made more and more sense. His presence put her at ease. He went on to tell her about the latest conference he just got back from Minnesota and the 2018 Beyond Resistance Conference. They discussed “Skills for Effective Activism”.

After the George Washington Carver movie, the two decided to grab a bite to eat. At Garvey’s behest, they stopped at Doomie’s Home Cookin’ on Vine St.

“Just about everything here is pretty good.” He said while Zaria mulled over the menu. “I already know what I’m getting.” He said in a ravenous tone. “What’s that?” Zaria asked. “I usually get the same thing; the peanut butter burger with bacon and garlic fries.”

“Yuck!” Zaria exclaimed. She sheepishly took another sip of her water as she noticed some glaring eyes from the table next to them. It’s generally bad form to yell out “Yuck!” in a crowded restaurant.

“It’s not what you think! Everything is vegan here.” Garvey said as to defend his curious food choice.

“That doesn’t make it any better, fool.” Zaria jokingly snapped back. Burger, peanut butter and bacon doesn’t sound like a good combination no matter if its meat or not. Your taste buds must be wired wrong or something.”

Garvey laughed off Zaria’s hater criticisms. “Don’t knock it till you tried it. I’m telling you. It’s one of the most popular joints on the menu for a reason.” Zaria was leery of the food choice and decided to play it safer. She ordered the BBQ “Pulled Pork” with mac and cheese. The food arrived, but before

Garvey could sink his teeth in, Zaria insisted that she let him photograph their orders “for the ‘gram.”

I’m telling you, Zaria. I’ll give you a bite of my burger, but just one because I want you to see what you’ve been missing!” As Zaria gazed affectionately across the table at Garvey as he bowed his head to pray over their food, Zaria couldn’t help but to think to herself, ‘This is everything she had been missing.’

“Here. Take a bite.” He picked up his burger and extend his arm emploring her to try it. Steam was still rising and cheese was beginning to drip from the corner. She leaned over and tore off a small bit with her teeth, still unsure about the premise of a PB Bacon Burger. She began chewing while Garvey pulled his food back towards himself to eat it.

The flavors won Zaria over and she began nodding in aggreance with Garvey. She covered her mouth with her napkin as to not be seen talking with her mouth full. “Not bad. Not bad. I didn’t think it would all work together…but somehow it does.”

“You thought I would steer you wrong? Garvey questioned rhetorically. “You got to have more faith in me.

“You know if this place was nasty, I was going to write a shitty Yelp review and I was going to name drop you in it!”

Garvey laughed and tucked one of his loose dreads back behind his head with the other ones.

“So, how are we looking for the Bowl Your Rights event?” Zaria almost choked on her french fries as she was unprepared for the question.

“Well… uhhh. Good, you know. Good. Ran into some challenges, but nothing I can’t handle.” It was

a boldfaced lie, but Zaria was too embarrased to admit that she was in over her head. “You know, I

really respected the fact that you even jumped out there like this. So many of our brothas and sisters want to complain about the problems, but they don’t want to put fourth the effort into creating solutions. Here you are, bringing a solution to the table, and then putting in the leg work to see it through. You are fuckin’ G.” Zaria looked away, in part because she was flattered by the compliment and also because she knew deep down that she didn’t deserve it. They ate their food and simply enjoyed one another’s company, cracking jokes and sparking the age old debate of sugar vs. salt on grits. They finished up dinner, got some southern strawberry shortcake to go and headed back to

Garvey’s apartment.

His apartment was definitly a bachelor’s pad. It was clean, but the mail was piling up on the table, none of the furniture matched, and the walls were pretty much barren of artwork except a mural of Pam Greer someone had painstakingly drawn on the wall over his couch.

“You’re a big Pam Grier fan I see.” Zaria mentioned, stating the obvious. “Oh, Fa sho.” Garvey said. “Actually, you know what? I went back to Jersey last summer to spend my birthday with my son, and I gave Matt a key to my place and he knew shes my #WCW so he drew that on the wall for me. I’m gonna have to paint over it when I finally move out, but did an incredible job. He’s a good dude.”

Zaria had not spoken a word to Matt since he tried to go all Harvey Weinstein on her at the bonfire. Was this some sort of pertinient information that she would need to warn Garvey about?

Not in her eyes. As far as Zaria was concerned, she could het past the incident if Matt could.

Furthermore, there was no need to ruffle Garvey’s feathers and complicate their friendship by spilling the tea. All of that in mind, Zaria responded to Garvey the simpest way she could. “Nice mural.”

nd “The mural is my 2 favorite thing about this apartment. Come with me. I wanna show you the first.” Garvey pulled a backpack out of his hallway closet and grabbed Zaria’s hand, leading her back towards the front door. They walked out of the apartment and walked along the side of the building. There was a metal stairs attached to the side of the building. “You’re not afarid of heights are you?” Zaria shook her head no, and began to scale the staircase as Mr. Blythewood motioned for her to do so. The sun had long set, however the roof held in the heat making the roof seemingly a tad bit warmed than it actually was outside.

Luckily, a slight breeze was tickling the air making the temperature wrm but pleasant. The view from

Garvey’s rooftop was absolutley breathtaking. Zaria looked out over the side. It was dark, but the city was alive with energy. She could hear the cars, the motorcycles and even a Taco truck playing mariachi music off in the distance. It was a clear night, and the stars blanketed the night sky.

“Pretty nice view, right?” Garvey asked. “Plus, watching the stars keeps me away from Netflix.

Keeping Mo’Nique’s Netflix boycott alive.”

Zaria paused for a second. She couldn’t read Garvey, and was unsure whether his allegiance to the Netflix boycott was legit or if he was just clownin.

“Nah. I’m just playing.” Haha. He chuckled. “I’m here for the message. Get your bag!

Know your worth! But Netflix has been cutting those checks to black comedians lately. Shit, we haven’t seen Dave Chappelle like this since 2004! Sorry, I’m just not protesting because they wanted to give a star half a million dollars for a comedy special. There’s people getting murdered in the streets right now Mo’Nique, I’m sorry. I have different priorities.”

Zaria agreed with the absurdity of the demonstration. “Right. It sounds to me like she just needs to fire her agent. That’s their job to get you top dollar in negotiations.” She was slightly relieved that Garvey was joking but was equally as impressed with his dry sense of humor.

“You can have a seat if you’d like.” Garvey carried over a two lawn chairs that seemed to purposefully placed up there, reserved for guests. He sat down next to Zaria in his chair and unpacked his bag which included an extension cord and an air matress.He proceeded to pop the metal latch on an outlet and before you knew it, the two were laying in the air matress facing eachother. Zaria played some music off her phone while they consumed the LA night. Garvey offerd Zaria a joint and began to

bop his head to the song that was playing. “This song who is it?” Zaria held up her phone so he is could see it as she took a hit.

Zaria blew smoke into the stars as she vibed out to the song. “Yeah, Syd is dope. She needs to hurry up and drop an album.”

She passed the joint back to Garvey. “So how do you like living in California?” He asked. “ I like it out here. Cali is pretty cool. I have to say. I thought it was just a bunch of Hollyweird types out here worshiping Scientology and botoxing their children.”

Garvey laughed loudly. “Damn girl, TV got you brainwashed. Let me tell you something about my city. All the lames are the imports! Don’t get the showbiz shit twisted. There’s a lot of solid, hardworking people out here. We’re the same people who fought back in the Watts riots, fought back in the Rodney King riots.”

“No doubt. No doubt. Cali has some cool people. I’ve got to admit.” She could hear Garvey’s voice getting more animated. He was just passionate person and Zaria was drawn to his fire.

“That’s why I fight so hard for my city. I was born premature. My mother gave birth to me and I had to stay in the hospital for nearly a month. During that time, the riots broke out. When she was finally able to take me home, she said she walked out the hopsital doors and didn’t know what type of world she was brining me into. I always kind of felt like I was brought here early to help make things better. Now that I got a son of my own, I know I got to make the world better for him.

Ya know?”

The munchies were setting in, but luckily for the two of them, they had their strawberry shortcake from the restaurant to share.

“So your son always lived in New Jersey?” Zaria asked while she began to trace the lines of the tatoos on his arm with her fingers.

“Yeah.” He said with a sigh. Long story short, I went to college out there, and I was involved with the Black Student Union on campus. I met my son, Braxton’s mom on campus and we started dating. I became sorta known for the activism stuff and I was kinda poppin on campus. She got pregnant with

Braxton, but I wasn’t done running the streets yet and she caught me slipping one day and that was it.

Once was all it took. She broke off our engagement and that was that. She still resents me for it and she gives me grief at every turn possible. I fucked up. I owned it and apologized to her, but the trust was gone. She hates my guts, but we both take our roles as parents seriously. So me somehow make it work.”

Zaria was not ready for such a detailed or honest answer, but she valued his candor. “So what about now? She asked, while polishing off the like piece of cake. “You are flying all over the country.

You probably got hoes in different area codes.”

“Not even,” he said while twisting his face up. “I be out here about my business. As a young black man they will look for any and every way to discredit me when I walk into a room out here. The last thing I need is some thots out here blowing up my timeline talking crazy like I’m on an episode of

Cheaters. You see those republicans dug for 8 years to find a speck of dirt that they could stick on

Obama and when they couldn’t find anything all they could do was make up some lies. Them crackers won’t bring me down in 15 years on some Bill Cosby shit. Besides, I’m just trying to settle down at this point. Just looking to find the right person I can build with.” Zaria leaned in, resting her hand on his rib cage. “How will you know when you find her?” she asked.

Garvey gazed deeply into Zaria’s eye and saw something special that he had not seen in a long time. Truth. He placed swooped in a planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

“Sometime’s you just know….”

The following morning, inside of Garvey’s aparment, Zaria stood hunched over as she rifled through his fridge. The breeze from his FrIgidaire tingled her legs as she was only covered by Garvey’s t-shirt. Garvey was in the shower and trying to make an early morning meeting he had with

Councilwoman Jones about the zoning for an upcoming protest. Not wanting to overstep her boundaries, Zaria made him a fruit bowl, left a note, collected her clothes and made a hasty exit while he was still getting ready. As she hopped in the car headed home, she cut on her XM radio just like she normally did each morning… when she still had a job. “….. Opening statements today in the trials of Officer Evan Runyan and Officer Nathan Santori.

Both Officers were charged in the shooting death of DeMarr Lacy, an unarmed black teen in Cleveland,

Ohio back in December 2017. The officers reportedly have a million dollar defense team as their legal fees have been absorbed through private donations. Meanwhile, damaging footage was released online yesterday including Lacy’s school attendance records, a video of an unrelated fight from a pool party in

2015, and a photo Lacy holding a large stack of money next to his face which is known to many as a

‘money phone.’ Known to be the latest in fashion accessories for drug dealers.”

“See. This is that bullshit.” She thought as she fought through the Monday morning traffic. “You shoot a black man or any reason and without fail, white people will run to save one of their own Every

.Single .Time . And the money phone… seriously? Was Fux News prepared to run a segement on the cultural signifiance of the money phone? I can’t….”

When she arrived back at her place, Zaria found an interview with DeMarr’s mother. Still obviously grieving, she was no longer in hysterics, but had the demeanor of a gladiator; beaten, tired, hurt severely, but ready to take on any all all comers with any neative words about her son.

“That wasn’t nothing but his money from his par time job. He had been saving his tips from work all summer. That boy never sold drugs a day in his life.” Zaria was upset, but far from surprised. She knew the game all too well. The did the same thing to Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin…. Racists digging tirelessly to unearth any viable reason for justifying shooting an unarmed U.S. citizen in the back or choking them out. She even went on to learn that Officer Santori faced disciplinary action 4 years ago, fresh out of the academy for using excessive force in a traffic stop. It made Zaria reflect about how uneven the scales of justice are in America. It never ceases to amaze her how the media can skew a story to fit whatever narrative they are trying to spin. Meanwhile, nutjobs like Debbie were drinking the

Kool-Aid like… well, Kool-Aid, and then spreading that manure over their decisionmaking in the workplace and everyday life.

After consciously avoiding Yoga class for a solid week by watching videos on youtube,it was time for Zaria to bite the bullet. She walked into class for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Luckily, her normal space next to Prentice was unoccupied. Prentice subtly sucked his teeth as Zaria rolled out her yoga mat, voicing his displeasure. “Who’s ready for Yoga?” Zaria said in a sing-songy fashion as she tried to butter him up. “Hey Prentice. Long time no see.”

“Alright class. Let’s get everybody warmed up! Let’s get started with a seated twist.

Turn to the right! Let’s loosen up those muscles from sitting behind your desks all week!” the instructor, said Yogi Alexa.

“Prentice I wanted to just apologize again, I mean –“ Prentice cut her off mid sentence. “Girl, stop. I’m over it. We’re grown. Just know that social medIa has power. You could have damaged his career, ruined his marriage, destoryed his children’s stability just to get yourself some shine. If karma is coming, he’ll get his, but you’re better than that Zaria. That’s all. Apology accepted. I’m glad to see you back.” Relieved to have her friend back. Zaria smiled over at Prentice who made a silly grin at her to keep the levity in the moment.

“What’s up with the Bowl Your Rights event?” Prentice asked to change the subject. “It’s still going down next Saturday.”Zaria said. Her anxiety over te execution of this event was mounting by the day, and she was really begining to feel in over her head. She still had so much to do. “Okay. I’ll be there.

I was talking to some friends of mine and I mentioned the Bowl Your Rights party. They thought it was a brilliant idea, so they wanted to come too, and show support.”

“Now to the Left!” Yogi Alexa called out to the class.

It was the first glimmer of optimism in regards to attendance that she heard thus far. “That’s great Prentice! Please do! With President Chump in office, we have to look out for one another a little better. In these times its good for all of us to know how to move and what we have to and what we don’t haven to tolerate from the police.”

“Right.” Prentice agreed. “I think few things would be scarier for the President right than an educated base of black citzens who knew the law and wouldn’t tolerate some of the crap these dirty officers are getting away with. You know I’ll be there girl, I should have atleast 3 or 4 brothas with me.”

Slowly, Zaria was starting to regain her peace of mind. In the midst of everything she had lost sight of the big picture. But hearing those encouraging words from Prentice and hearing Garvey speak about making a difference with so much conviction was just what she needed to hear. It was time to get

her hustle on!

#2BC

Follow us online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights

SE01EP08 – “True Intentions”

Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are

either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 3/5/2018

Time: 10:16 am PST

Mood:

The stress was starting to mount for Zaria as her big event was only days away. The whole team was on board. DJ Needlz had been talking about it on his radio show for the past several weeks and he posted the flyer on his tattoo shop’s IG page. Garvey even posted about it on his Facebook page, and he’s maxed out with 5,000 friends. Lol. Things were looking up, and for the first time she was feeling good about the potential turnout for the event.

Though pressed for time, Zaria had to stop by to check on her girl Jordin. Zaria had gotten a very disturbing text from her friend when she woke up and wanted to see if everything was ok. It was a sun drenched California morning, but Zaria could see that the blinds were drawn so tightly that no sunlight was passing through inadvertently.

“Hey girlie, open up this door. This Starbucks is burning my hand!” Zaria hollered from outside the door. It creaked as Jordin cracked the door open. Peering timidly from behind it as to asses who all was coming to her front step. When she saw that it was just Zaria, Jordin unlocked the screen door, motioning for her friend to quickly come inside. She gingerly set Jordin’s favorite, Café Latte (extra foam) on the table. “You would’ve thought that Starbucks line had Coachella tickets the way that line was wrapped around the building.” Zaria could barely see in the dimly lit apartment. “How are you feeling? I got your text this morning when I woke up.”

She looked up to see the whole side of Jordin’s face was deeply bruised and grotesquely swollen. Her right eye was shut and the same color as a plum. Zaria was startled to see friend’s face.

Beyond the physical hurt of being pummeled like she was in a Mayweather fight, Zaria could tell her friend was ashamed to be seen in such a condition. Zaria’s first inclination was to scream, but rather than making Jordin more self-conscious about her injuries, Zaria decided to downplay its severity.

“Jordin, WTF…. Are you kidding me? He did this to you?”

“Chill out Zaria, it’s not that big of a deal.” She said in order to calm her friend’s nerves. But it was too late. Zaria went from 0 to 100 real quick.

“Not that big of a deal! You look like the day after a Worldstar video! Where is that n… is he here?” Zaria began storming through Jordin’s place looking for Ruiz, Jordin’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. “Ruiz you piece of shit. You think it’s fuckin' cool to hit women!?”

“He’s not here, girl. Relax. He bounced last night after the fight… and I haven’t heard from him since.”

Zaria seemed to be furious enough for the both of them. “Good. Let’s go to the bathroom so we can take some pics of your bruises. Then we can drive down to the police station so we can get this restraining order.”

“Wait a second, Z!” Jordin said. We don’t have to do all that. Like I said, it’s no big deal. It was mostly my fault anyway.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Zaria was incensed at her friend’s reluctance to spring into action. “It’s impossible that this is your fault.”

Jordin’s voice quivered as she recounted last night’s events. Some of my homegirls came out from Orange County last night. I told Ruiz I’d be home around 1:00, but we stopped to get tacos afterwards and I didn’t get home until around 1:45 AM….. So anyway, the Uber drops me off and the deadbolt lock is on the door. I can’t get in to my own place. My phone battery is dead. I’m drunk. So I’m outside the window yelling from the street. Ruiz gets afraid the neighbors will call the cops and pulls me inside. Next thing you know, he just kept punching me like fucking a guy. I begged him to stop, until he punched me in my stomach so I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, I guess he came to his senses and realized what the fuck he had just done. So now he is apologizing and saying that he will make it up to me, and how he would never hurt me intentionally. Blah, blah, blah. He picks me up, lays me on the couch, covers me with a blanket and places a cold package of peas on my face from out the freezer. I just laid there; partially out of fear, and partially because my head was pounding and the room was spinning.”

Zaria sat there with her mouth agape, listening to the story. It was heartbreaking to hear the brutality of last night’s melee. Zaria had never been abused before, physically anyway. Though she could not personally relate, it was a scenario she had seen unravel many times before. Women, too much in love for their own good. Sadly, Jordin was becoming a silent statistic before Zaria’s eyes. Jordin wanted her pain to be hers and hers alone. However, the brevity of the situation made her friend’s heart heavy too.

“Well, we’ve got to get your eye looked at. What if he broke your cheekbone?” Zaria implored

Jordin to see medical attention. “No, no. It will probably heal on its own. Let’s give it some time. Besides,

Ruiz has 2 strikes. So by law, if he gets in trouble again, he might never get out of prison. I don’t have it in my heart to do that to him, girl.” Suddenly the picture was becoming clear to Zaria, and she understood why her friend was so apprehensive about going to the authorities. The system was hard enough on black and brown people as it was, and there was little chance that the judge would not throw the book at Ruiz in this situation. What pained Zaria the most was seeing her friend suffering through this and feeling as if there was nothing that she could do to help her. “You know, you can always crash at my place for a couple of nights if you want to, Jordin.” Zaria said as she embraced her strong and beautiful friend. “There’s nothing in my fridge right now except some Greek yogurt and some hard lemonade, but if you come by, I will go to the grocery store and make us dinner. Cool?” There mere sight of Zaria’s face and her comforting words brought a small glimmer of calm and perspective to all of this drama. Jordin agreed to text Zaria if Ruiz decided to come home. In the meantime, Zaria got back on the road, taking care of a string of errands in preparation for her big event.

Zaria got back to her Hybrid and sent a quick text to Jordin. “Better set that reminder on your

phone girl. Luv u!! ” Sure it wasn’t a solution, but sometimes we need something as simple as a silly meme to help lift each other’s spirits when we are down. What causes a woman to stay in a toxic relationship? Sure, in her younger years, even Zaria had stuck it out in a relationship past its expiration date. Perhaps it was the romanticism of how that person used to make you feel. We hold out hope that somehow we can recapture the magic that our partner originally made us feel. Zaria knew this was not the first time Ruiz had hit Jordin. How could she kiss him again? Sleep safely in his arms? Laugh at his jokes? Knowing what he is capable of. Most assuredly the magic was gone. Maybe it was fear? Perhaps it was learned behavior, regardless Zaria had great concern for her friend’s safety, but she sadly realized she had done all that she could at this point in time.

There was a slight overcast outside which pushed the temperature down just enough to put a slight snap in the air. It was about the closest thing to a winter as you could experience in SoCal, but Zaria would gladly take it. Though she hated being buried in mountains of snow every year at home in

Cleveland, she did miss the nuance of being able to appreciate having 4 distinct seasons. Today though, she was on a mission.

It felt like tension was at its breaking point just about everywhere. The trial of the police officers in the murder of DeMarr Lacey had brought out some of the ugliness of America. It was as if the whole nation was on edge. Zaria knew she would need a good stress reliever. After checking off all of the boxes on her to-do list, Zaria stopped by the dispensary to pick up a few grams of sativa. Zaria arrived home and promptly kicked her pants off as she got to her bedroom door and sat down at her laptop to continue her job search. LinkedIn, Craigslist, Monster.com… Zaria scoured the internet hoping that she could find something that paid decent and was flexible enough to work with her auditions. She chuckled to herself as she thought about living in an age where she could walk into a store and buy weed like its

Raisin Bran, apply for jobs from her couch in her underwear, and then smoke it and not have to worry about drug test results. What a time to be alive! LOL.

As she sat there with 12 tabs on her Google chrome for Indeed.com, Zaria got a notification about a news story about Tiffany Haddish’s new Netflix deal. She loved to hear stories like this, especially about black women who were breaking ground and really manifesting their dreams, whatever they are. Zaria thought back to how far she had come, her life was vastly different in

Cleveland, but nonetheless, here she was in Los Angeles looking to turn those dreams into reality.

It made Zaria think about all of the “used - to’s” that she encountered on a daily basis. You know, she “used to” be a singer… until she got knocked up by some nigga. Or, she “used to” go to film school to be a director, but now she only sells car insurance. . Zaria didn’t come all of this way just to be absorbed into a mundane existence. She came to California to stand out, not blend in. As she thought more about her focus, her true passion and her purpose for being here, she came to the epiphany that sitting in an office at another 9 to 5, fighting with another Debbie was not what she needed in life. She needed to direct her energy to what she actually wanted. She abruptly closed out of her string of Chrome windows and opened a new Google Search:

Moving forward, it was all or nothing. If she was going to invest this kind of effort, it would be to make her own dreams a reality, not someone else’s.

Scrolling through YouTube on her TV, she saw a live feed from FUX News. They were committed to giving round the clock coverage of the case. “Sheesh, soon as a brown body drops, these vultures all circle overhead. They swoop down and they pick every bit of dignity off of that corpse, the victim’s family, and the city.” Zaria thought to herself. In trial, the prosecution was showing the dashcam video. It showed that the police department allowed him to lie on the ground unarmed and bleeding for a cool 2 minutes and 32 seconds before calling for an ambulance. Meanwhile, President

Chump was continuing to spend his time in office, riding through Middle America galvanizing bigots and finding asinine ways to justify unarmed American young people being murdered… in cold blood.

“This shit is depressing; I could be watching Love & Hip Hop right now, for real for real.” She concluded before turning to some more light-hearted, mindless programming.

Buzz!! Her phone vibrated on the table as she was smashing her dinner. She wiped the chicken grease from her fingers before picking up her iPhone. There, in her inbox, sitting on top of all of her other text messages as if it were top priority sat a brand new message from Omar. But it was no

ordinary message. Zaria opened up her phone to an up close and personal fully erect pic.

.

It didn’t look bad or anything, but she just really wanted to sit him down and say…. “Really my nigga? Not a ‘Hey how’s it going?’ or ‘I’ve been thinking about you’… Just went straight to the d pic huh?” You ever get the feeling that these dudes just take a pic of their meat and just hit “Send All?” Few things were a bigger turnoff for Zaria than being made to not feel special, and this intimate picture felt about as intimate as waiting in line at the Deli counter. She actually found the text somewhat offensive, but rather than taking the energy to tell his about himself about bruising his little ego. She waited a solid

15 minutes and replied with an uninspired… “LOL”. Besides, last time she checked, Omar had a cute little

Filipina girl who was busy “liking” all of his pics and faithfully blowing up his comments. Omar had all the attention he needed as far as Zaria was concerned. It was right around this time that Zaria also noticed

Jordin updated her status.

If ever there was a time when she wished Facebook had a “dislike” button, today would be the day. The reality was that Zaria learning that you could lead a horse to water, but you can’t make her drink. She felt scared for her friend’s safety and moreso hurt that she did not seemingly want better for herself.

The phone began to vibrate again. The hairs on the back her neck stood up as she braced herself for another image from Omar’s “gray sweatpants peepshow”. Luckily however, it wasn’t Omar blowing up her line. Instead it was Garvey. They had been playing phone tag over the past few days as

Garvey was in and out of meetings and lending a face, support at various events throughout the city. He was a busy man, but Zaria could tell by the tone in his voice and his weary smile that face timing with her brightening his day. She felt the same way. They did not always have the most time together, but those fleeting moments they spent in each other’s “presence” were more precious than gold for Zaria.

“What did you eat for dinner?” Zaria asked Garvey. She turned a lamp behind her, illuminating the screen, allowing Garvey to see her smile from ear to ear. “That smile is so bright its draining my phone’s battery!” Garvey joked. He was clearly on the move, but he tried his best to hold the camera steady. “My 5:00 meeting ran hella late, I got stuck in rush hour traffic on “the 605” and showed up hella late to this banquet dinner. By the time I arrived the food was long gone. So to answer your question, I had nothing to eat.”

“What about lunch?” she asked sternly.

“I missed lunch too…. I had a skype meeting!” Garvey pleaded his case, but he could see the dissatisfaction in Zaria’s face. “I know. I meant to grab an apple or something earlier. But I just got so tied up with work; I never got around to it.”

“Garvey, I’m gonna need you to get yo life…How are you gonna run around helping all these people and you aren’t even taking care of yourself?”

“You’re right Zee, I’ll make a sandwich when I get in the house. Damnit. I still need to call back

Briana to look over her resume and I need to call the LGBT Center about helping to promote their HIV testing. It’s like there’s never enough hours in the day.”

Zaria shook her head in amazement at Garvey’s focus. “Do you have some sort of hero complex or something?”

“Is that such a bad thing when our people are really looking for some heroes?” Just then, another call cut in. “Hey Zee, this is the LGBT Center calling me back on the other line. I will text you later if you are up.”

“Ok. Talk to you later….bye.”

Zaria hung up the phone and went to work on editing her most recent vlog about the new Jay-

Z, Beyoncé and Future song “Top OFF” but not before ordering a vegetarian sushi platter and having it delivered to his apartment. She didn’t feel compelled to do it because she was in love, or even because they were friends. It only seemed right to give something to a young man who was giving so much of himself to the movement.

The weather was slightly chilly the following day. Though common for most of the country, the slight dip gripped Southern California like the second coming of the Ice Age. Zaria decided to keep it casual as she layered an old denim button down on top of her favorite a cute t-shirt she had just ordered.

Pulling back her hair into a ponytail completed her look just in time. Her phone rang as her driver was just pulling up outside. She hopped in her Lyft and made her way over to the

Wave Headquarters for an important meeting. Zaria was anxious, but for once it had nothing to do with the Bowl Your Rights event she was responsible for overseeing, it was the unresolved tension between her and Matt. Zaria was never one to allow ill will to fester for too long. She understood how short life could be and didn’t want to invest in too much of her own energy into the negativity. However, the twogood friends had not spoken in over a week.

Zaria’s mind must’ve played out dozens of scenarios for how this interaction with Matt could possibly go on that car ride. She was so focused in fact that she totally ignored the drivers question about changing the radio station. It didn’t matter. They were almost there anyway.

By the time Zaria arrived, it was almost time to get the meeting started. Everyone was there with the exception of Matt who was conspicuosly absent. Garvey was there, going over his some notes and responding to texts before he started the meeting. “What’s good crew?

Thanks for making it out tonight as always. Change comes from consciously deciding that we want better for ourselves. By coming together, this is an incremental step in the right direction. As always I thank you for that. You guys know the drill… Old business, new business then anything additional we need to address.

Garvey stood up straight and projected his voice across the room like someone who is a seasoned veteran at speaking to groups of people. After talking for a good ten minutes or so,

Garvey gave the floor to Briana to talk about the budget. Briana was well into her presentation when the front door creeked open slowly, diverting every eye to the back of the room where

Matt was failing miserably at sneaking into the meeting without causing a distraction. Out of the corner of her eye, Zaria saw him fumbling to get his camera out of his bag. She didn’t want to make eye contact, but Matt was looking rough.His face was pink and flustered and he could barely look in Zaria’s general direction.

The two of them made it through the meeting seemingly without letting on their was any tension between them. That was until the meeting was adjourned atleast. Zaria and Briana were in the midst of a conversation about their favorite scenes in Black Panther when Garvey casually walked up and put his arm around Zaria. The gesture felt rather harmless to Zaira, but it was clearly the final straw for Matt; who upon seeing this slammed his MacBook Pro closed, shoving it in his computer bag and making a B-line for the exit without even speaking to anybody.

Zaria chased Matt out the door and into the parkinglot where he fumbled through his pockets looking for his car keys. “Matt, wait!” she exclaimed, halting him dead in his tracks. “We need to talk.” Matt’s eyes were welling up with tears. Zaria could tell that this had been brewing inside of him for a minute.

“Look, I don’t know if you was just on one at the bonfire that day or what, but I’m sorry if you took my friendship for something it’s not. You are a super dope guy and a great friend, but you’re like --”

“--Like a brother to you.” Matt cut Zaria off. “Zaria, no man that’s not a blood relative

wants to hear that . Ever. Not if they are straight. You know, I invited you out here to the meetings. I’m the one calling you when things aren’t going right. I did your photoshoot for free!

I really thought that we were building something here. To get rejected is one thing. but then to see you and Garvey…. I dunno… Some girls like to try to talk to every dude in the crew. That’s sorta what it feels like and to be honest, this might not be the scene for you.

Zaria went ballistic. “Are you fucking kidding me right now Matt? Is your brain buffering or something? You see… this is why…. She stopped herself before continuing. I have been nothing but cool with you from jump. I never crossed the line with the jokes or the conversation. Just because you got butt-hurt means I did anything wrong. Secondly, who are you to have the audacity to suggest that I’m some kind of thot out here lovin’ the crew?

Seriously! I don’t need the approval of any man to live my life!”

Zaria cut her eyes at Matt who was loading his bag into the backseat of his Toyota

Corolla. “Lastly,” she said. “Let me tell you where you got me fucked up at. You might be here for the ‘scene’ or the ‘vibe’. I came to the rally on my own. Because I watched DeMarr Lacey and

Eric Garner and Michael Brown and Tamir Rice and countless black men get murdered on instant replay every night on the news right between the sports segment and the weather segment! I got tired of seeing this shit and not doing nothing! Not fighting back! That’s why I am here! You can let your hair grow long, listen to some Wiz Khalifa albums, but when it really hits the fan and daddy cuts off your debit card, you can get a haircut, put on some khakis and a polo and blend right back into suburbia! We don’t have that…. priveledge.”

Matt had heard enough. He flung his driver’s side door open and started up the ignition.

“Matt, you’re a cool dude, I think. But for you to question my level of compassion for my own people makes you come off as quite the interloper. You can feel however you want about me: good, bad, or whatever. But this racism we are fighting is real. The discrimination is real. That’s the reason the rest of us are here. We better see you at this ‘Bowl Your Rights’ event on

Saturday. If not, I think that will speak volumes to all of us about you and your motivations in this organization.”

Matt slammed his door and wiped a single tear from his cheek with his shirt sleeve before peeling out of the parking lot.

#2BC

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Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP09 - “Know Your Rights!” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 3/12/2018 Time: 2:35 pm PST

Mood:

The sun was peaking its way through the blinds in the apartment as Zaria sat in her

Cleveland Cavaliers t shirt and boy shorts at the kitchen table. She poured milk over her

Honey Nut Cheerios as she propped her phone up against the cereal box and pressed play.

The video was lengthy, so much so that she couldn’t finish it all in one sitting, but it was well worth it. This had been going on for the past several days. Zaria had invited Briana out to dinner with her and her homegirls the other day. They met up on Thursday at Applebee’s after work. It was International Women’s Day and Zaria thought it would be nice to spend some time with some of her favorite ladies. In between a couple round of drinks and appetizers somehow the subject of conversation turned to feminism. As the only feminist at the table, Briana took it as an opportunity to educate her sisters a little on the subject.

“…There’s a difference, a real difference.” Briana said as she cut a mozzarella stick in half with her fork with surgical precision.

“Wait a minute. I’m confused.” Jordin said. “So you mean to tell me that all those women who were telling us to vote for Hillary and the black feminists aren’t on the same team?”

“Well, Yes and no.” Briana replied. “Yes. We all would like to see women empowered, protected and respected in the workforce and in our personal lives. But, more often than not, white feminists concerns about equality typically fall short of looking out for anyone who is not white or middle class. Black women who were largely pushed to the background of both the civil rights movement as well as the women’s lib movement. As a result, the intersectionality of black feminism has given a voice inside of the movement for women regardless of skin color, age, ableism, economic status or sexual identity. It basically just shows how we are all connected.”

Zaria’s gears began to turn as she listened to Briana speak. Nobody had even taken the time to break down the general concepts behind feminism to her before. She had always heard growing up that feminism was little more than the collective moans of a portion of society that merely hates men. But getting a more concise understanding of what feminism is and is about made Zaria want to examine the world around her through a different lens.

“Here’s an example. For every dollar a white man makes, a white woman makes about

78¢ on the dollar. This is why in the movement and even in the media we hear that statistic as a rallying cry.”

The girls all locked in on Briana as she leaned in towards the group. “Now here’s the fuckery.” We all unify to get them that extra 22¢ right? Well, Jordin, women like you were only making 65¢ on the dollar to begin with. Gabby, shit, Latina women make even less than that!

Closer to 57¢!”

Zaria scoped around the table to see looks of dismay and frustration. Now tell me this, where is the ‘sisterhood’ from those same white feminists when we are talking about defending DACA and The Dreamers? Where are the white feminists when we are talking about police brutality?

Compassion is compassion and in order for us to move forward as a people, we really need to open our eyes and see that the rich and poor, gay and straight, brown, black and white… we’re all on this ride together. We need to muthafuckin’ act like it.”

And thus started a barrage of questions and discussions and link sharing. Gabby even went so far as to set up a group chat between all of the women so they could have a safe space to raise questions, crack jokes and elaborate on some of the notions that Briana had brought to their attention. Some of it seemed to go over Zaria’s head. After all, she was having all of these new terms, concepts and ideas being thrown at her. It would take her some time to wrap her mind around all of it.

Aside from the heavy discussion. Zaria felt good being able to spend the night out with her girls like that. California was finally beginning to feel like home. Not in the sense that she knew her way around the city, but rather that she was finally making real connections and creating real memories in her new town. The girls all seemed to get along well. Which you can never say for certain when your friends meet each other for the first time. They all agreed that they were excited about Zaria’s “Bowl Your Rights” event tomorrow and were down to help

Zaria ensure that it was a success. It felt good to know that she actually had some girls that she

could count on.

Gabrielle was going to take tickets at the door, while Jordin served refreshments and

Briana would pass out pamphlets. That in addition to all of the manpower she would get from the rest of the members of the wave made Zaria confident that things would be a success. She ran around the night before like a chicken with its head cut off as she tied up all of the loose odds and ends for the party. The bowling alley had a “no profanity” policy which Zaria informed

DJ Wes Needlz about so he could keep the party going tomorrow without violating any policy.

Garvey showed up late to help her finish filling the gift bags for the attendees. The two worked together throughout most of the night, falling asleep right there on the living room floor surrounded by craft supplies and finished bags. After catching a couple of hours of shut eye, she was up, buzzing around her apartment like a hummingbird; triple checking everything she had prepared for “Bowl Your Rights”, reposting her flyer in a few last strategic places online, and curating an outfit dope enough to suit such an occasion.

Arriving at the bowling alley a couple of hours ahead of time gave Zaria ample time to pay the deposit, and get things set up. The bowling alley wasn’t much to look at aesthetically.

The whole place looked like a time warp into 1992. The once crimson carpet now looked gray and muddy from decades of spilled drinks and matted bubble gum. Adjacent to the shoe rental booth was an empty room typically used for kid’s birthday parties and the occasional church based social event. Zaria and Garvey brought their supplies in the room to set everything up.

Garvey placed some follow up calls to some of his contacts in the media around the city in hopes to draw some last minute attention to the event. Zaria received a text from Briana telling her that she was running late in picking up some boys from her church that she was brining to the bowling alley. Gabrielle was on her way with her teenage brother and sister. DJ

Wes Needlz had been flooding his timeline with flyers all week long. Subsequently, Zaria was not surprised when a stream of hypebeasts poured in, covered in SUPREME, OFF-WHITE, and

Yeezy’s. The crowd was beginning to amass much to the delight of Zaria and her team.

“Forty-four people are here so far. It’s not even 1:00 yet. We don’t start for another 15 minutes.” Gabby bubbled as she reported the news to Zaria. They surveyed the room as it was rapidly filling to capacity. “You know, this room only holds a capacity of 50 people right?” She said motioning to the Fire Dept. ordinance on the wall. Zaria felt a tinge of concern that is until she noticed Clarence, the owner of the alley as he scrambled to help an overwhelmed teenager renting out the desk. He hadn’t had this much business on a Non-League event in the past 2 years. You could practically see him counting the dollar signs as the line began to wrap down the hall, well past the arcade games.

Zaria ran around the alley like a chicken with its head cut off helping to get the finishing touches in place for the event. Above the din of chatter and laughter, she heard a booming voice. “Zee!”

Low and behold, it was Mitchell, the comedian. He sauntered over to her with his signature smile.

“Zaria, you know, I was driving home the other night and I gave some serious consideration to what you said before, and you were right. There comes a point where it’s not all just fun and games and jokes. It’s time that we all start to look around a little more and start to take the world around us a little more seriously. Now I’m still gonna be me at the end of the day. So I can still clown your crooked afro puffs. They look like two planets in orbit!”

In a panic, Zaria examined her hair in a mirror attached to the outside of a neighboring photo booth. After quickly assessing that her hair way in fact symmetrical, she delivered a sharp jab to Mitchell’s rib cage for falsely whipping her into a panic. He tried his best to play it off, but the elbow caught Mitchell off guard and slightly knocked the wind out of him. Luckily for Mitchell, Garvey was signaling Zaria over to the front of the room. The event was finally about to begin. DJ Needlz and his street team were at the door passing out “Know Your Rights” cards to everyone in attendance.

Zaria made her way to the front of the room. It was crowded over capacity. Every seat was filled and people stood along the perimeter of the room. Meanwhile a small contingency of people crowded into the doorway in order to listen. As she looked out across her audience, she saw a sea of beautiful brown faces all staring back at her. The chatter in the room was dense, and as Zaria looked out amongst her friends, Wave comrades, concerned citizens she was overcome with a shocking moment of stage fright. She stood there with her mouth agape.

Perspiration began to condense under her arm and her hands began to tremble at her side. She had never spoken in front of so many people before. In a panicked state, Zaria looked over to her right and saw Matt. He was in position, with his phone poised and in the air, streaming the entire event on The Wave’s IG Live. He gave his friend a thumbs up as a vote of confidence and she turned back to the crowd, still at a loss for words.

“Can I ask that everyone keep the noise down her a moment, Please!” Garvey’s voice projected without a microphone so that everyone in the room was clear on his directive. “I know it’s hot in this room here, so we’ll be brief. My name is Garvey. I’m President of “the

Wave”. We are a group of local activists working to ensure that our streets are protected.

We’re here to ensure sure that police officers are held to a standard and police brutality and excessive force will not be tolerated here in Southern California!” You could hear the murmurs of approval from some of the older people in the back. “Now, I know that we want to get bowling, but before we do, I’d like to introduce the woman who organized today’s event. I’m sure she has a few words to share with you. Without further ado, Ms. Zaria

Amina!” Garvey warming up the crowd and making the introduction helped to stifle the butterflies rumbling in Zaria’s stomach.

“Thank you, Garvey!” Zaria’s voice didn’t project nearly as well as his did, but she spoke loudly, and stood on her tippy toes, practically throwing each word towards the wall in the back of the room.

“As we all know, police brutality is a very real disease within our nation. Last week marked the 27th anniversary of the day an unarmed man named Rodney King was brutally beaten by Los

Angeles Police officers within an inch of his life just a few miles from where we are today! That was the first time the world got so see firsthand our secret pain. Sadly, as we all know, not much has changed in that time. When you look at a Philando Castille in Minnesota, or Mike Brown in

Ferguson, Missouri or DeMarr Lacey in Cleveland, Ohio…. We see that the police officers are not going to do what’s right on their own. We are not here to fight the police, but to make it clear that Black Lives Matter! We will not be ignored, we will not be silenced and we will not be victims in our own neighborhoods at the hands of our own police!’

“We are here today to open our doors to you, the community. Today’s event is to let you know that we love you, we are here for you and we are here to protect our own! Please fill in our guest log by the door with your email address so we can put you on our mailing list so we can provide you with news, information and to keep you in the loop for future events, programs.” Zaria made eye contact with Garvey who nodded assuredly. Briana projected some statistics onto a whiteboard to help underscore Zaria’s points.

“We all know the dangers of being black in America in 2018. Statistically, we are 3 times as likely to be killed by police officers. We are more likely to be killed while unarmed as well.

This is why we need to know how to educate our own on how to interact with the police simply as a means of self-preservation, because they are finding any and every reason to justify murdering our people. Meanwhile the legal system is affording them any and every loophole to exonerate them for it!”

As Zaria looked out across the room, she could see the gears beginning to turn in the heads of some of the younger kids in the room. The older folks could be heard co-signing as they knew what Zaria was saying was true. “Some of the highest murder rates for black men by police officers come from cities right in our own backyard!

Look at the numbers y’all! Santa Ana, Anaheim, Long Beach! It is open season on us in our own neighborhoods! If we don’t wake up, next time it will be your son, your daughter, your friend being paraded on the news as another disposable black life, cut short by officers who are afraid of the communities they are sworn to protect!”

Zaria wrapped up her speech by going over the cards that she passed out. Informing everyone on the safest ways to proceed in interactions with the police. By the end of her brief presentation, she had the entire room eating out of her hand.

“My people…. We have another 3 years of President Chump ahead of us. If he has shown us nothing thus far, he has proven that our safety and our concerns are of no value to him. We are going to have to learn to take care of each other a little more! The first step is to educate ourselves. Pass this information on to a friend today. Even if they don’t read, because the information we are passing out today could be lifesaving to any of us! Now that we have that out of the way, let us see who’s got it on these bowling lanes… Thanks for coming out everybody!”

With that said, the meeting was adjourned and people began to file out the room to go enjoy some games. A small crowd descended upon Zaria, congratulating her on the event, and asking her more questions about the Wave and police brutality. She couldn’t have fathomed things going any better than they did! DJ Wes Needlz hopped on the turntables to help set the whole event off.

“New Freezer” by Rich the Kid and Kendrick Lamar and “Look Alive” by Blocboy JB and

Drake thumped from the bowling alley speakers. The event was officially a success and for the first time in a good minute Zaria felt relieved.

“Zaria, hurry up and get your shoes from the counter girl. It’s you, me and some of the kids from my church versus Garvey, Matt and Gabby and her daughter!” After snatching the last size 7 ½ pair of shoes, Zaria hurried over to the lane with her friends. The game was competitive through the first 8 frames, 290-288 as Zaria approached the lane to take the lead.

Her competitive nature was taking over and Zaria had no intentions on losing to Matt and

Garvey’s team. She approached the lane and squared her feet up to the line.

Just as she approached her release, Jordin yelled at Zaria. “I see you girl, lookin’ like a whole snack!” It wasn’t much, but it was just enough of a shock to cause her to chuckle and trip and a loosely tied shoe string! “No! No! No!” she yelled, trying to almost reason with her balance as she staggered. It all happened in slow motion for Zaria as she stumbled towards the hard wooden lane. She looked about as graceful as an 8th grader belly flopping into a pool.

The ball clanged in and out of the gutter, jumping a lane and finding itself spinning down the adjourning gutter. Garvey and Matt hurried over to check on her, but after quickly assessing that she was alright, they all erupted in a fit of laughter.

Zaria scraped herself and her pride off of the ground and the guys helped her to her feet. Most girls would have felt self-conscious about such a clumsy mishap, but never one to take herself super seriously, Zaria was able to laugh it off relatively easily. Aside from busting her ass, the “Bowl Your Rights” event went off without incident, and there was a real positive vibe in the air. After closing out the event and cleaning up, and settling up with the owners of the bowling alley, The Wave walked away from the event with 57 email contacts and $1,350 in profits. Zaria thanked everyone for all of their help, loaded up her Hybrid with supplies and made her way home for some much needed rest.

Not even the denial email she received from her latest audition could ruin Zaria’s mood. A glass of moscato poured, and “Get You” by Daniel Caesar ft. Kali Uchis playing on her

Beats Pill, Zaria carefully eased her foot into the warm bathtub water. She could smell the sweet aroma of her peach bath bomb as the bubble danced around her body as she submerged herself up to her neck in the water. This was the decompression that she needed.

Grabbing her phone from the ledge of the sink, Zaria decided to upload some of her pics from the days event as well as research her latest vlog on Swae Lee from Rae Sremmurd hooking up with Blac Chyna. That’s when she saw it… IT!

The clip was only 8 seconds long, but it might as well felt like it was twenty minutes long. It was a video of Zaria losing her footing, and stumbling around like a new born baby giraffe before doing a face plant into the bowling alley. Zaria had been tagged in the video at least two dozen times already. Someone had even took the audio of her screaming “No, no, no!” and synced it up to Destiny’s Child’s song with Wyclef.

.

Zaria was mortified! People were laughing at her and the clip was spreading like An

Irene the Dream twerk video. (Ok. Maybe not quite that fast.). After studying the clip a few times, she had a good idea where the clip came from….

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right too. This clip of Zaria taking an L was getting her more attention than her vlogs or amateur interviews ever had. They say that all exposure is good exposure in this industry, but what does that mean to someone who wants to be taken seriously?

Nevertheless, Zaria thanked Mitchell for stopping by the event again and even bringing a few of the guys from his basketball rec league. He even said he was interested in coming to the upcoming gun safety class that The Wave was scheduling. Things ended on a positive note, even though Mitchell had a bit of shade to throw at Garvey.

Mitchell: Next time, I’m gonna need you to bowl on my team. You were too busy hanging out with that dude… Looking like a dark skinned J. Cole…. What’s his name? Char-coal?

Lol

Zaria: Dark skinned jokes in . I’m sure you’re comedy

2018…. career is destined to take off soon. Lol. Mitchell: Ouch. lol

Zaria: Zaria 1- Mitchell – 0

There were vigils being held all over the country that Sunday for DeMarr Lacey.

Zaria watched from her phone as people in Cleveland, in Philly, in Chicago and Atlanta were all standing in solidarity. It wasn’t just black people attending these vigils either. People of all shades could clearly see that this was wrong. It meant a lot to Zaria to see so many white people speaking up against in equality in our society.

Zaria decided that the only thing left for her to do was to simply put the situation in

God’s hands. That being said, she decided to go to church in order to drop a few prayers for DeMarr, his family and for so many other like his that are being devastated by barbaric law enforcement tactics.

The high praise of comparing her to the dynamic Nina Turner was a compliment, but

Zaria was slightly unnerved by Garvey’s dismissal of her religion. Zaria shifted her attention back to her work. Well, that was until Garvey sent another text that really got her attention.

Garvey: Sounds good. Well, call me when you get out of service. I‘d like to spend some time with my girl today.

Zaria forced herself to re-read Every. Single. Word.

Garvey: Sounds good. Well, call me when you get out of

service. I‘d like to spend some time with my girl today.

Is that what dudes pass off as asking a girl out in 2018? Zaria liked Garvey and spending time with him was great, but she was unsure if her life needed to be complicated by the stress of a relationship. It had been a long time since Zaria had gone down this road, and she didn’t really know if this would be a smart decision for her. She LOL’ed her way out of the discussion. She would need to take some real time to determine the direction of things with

Garvey moving forward.

Zaria walked into the doors of Greater Devotion Church in LA for the first time alone that Sunday. It was a beautiful day and she was wearing a flowing lavender sundress that she loved that fell past her knees. Matching this with favorite black stilettos and black clutch gave her a classy, yet eye catching appearance. It had been a while since she had been in the house of the Lord.

The pastor was a good looking middle aged black man with a well dyed and precisely cut flat top, manicured nails and a well cut gray suit. He gave a sermon about how God gives us great burdens in order to make our testimony that much greater. The message really struck a chord with Zaria. She had been through so much in her life that she would much rather forget, however, she believed in her heart that this was all indeed part of a bigger plan. She prayed for clarity and direction in her own life as well as her career. She prayed over her situation with

Garvey in deciding how to move forward. Most importantly, she prayed for DeMarr Lacey and all of the other victims of police brutality. She prayed for closure and justice for their families and finally she prayed that the judicial system would work properly for once.

Monday came around and Zaria sat glued in front of her television with a bowl of Honey

Nut Cheerios in hand. She watched the news intently as closing arguments were being presented in the wrongful murder of DeMarr Lacey. The prosecution argued that DeMarr was an unarmed child who the police wrongfully shot and deliberately waited to call for an ambulance. To counterpoint, the defense stated that they were responding to a report of an armed black male in that area, DeMarr was not immediately compliant to their demands and supposedly he had reached for his waistband (which couldn’t be seen in the dashcam video).

The judge entered his chamber for deliberation before the final verdict and the talking heads on all the media outlets were spinning the story a million miles per minute.

It was disgusting to see how these news outlets were really not much more than a machine that chews up stories like DeMarr’s and spits them out when the news cycle is over.

Moving on to pick over the next brown carcass in another town. Each news junket weaving their own variation of the truth to satisfy their viewers, get clicks, and generate ad dollars.

All while a community, a family, and a human life lay in shambles. Just then…

“We are LIVE here on FUX News. We interrupt our coverage with Breaking News out of

Cleveland, Ohio. Judge Alan Palmsick is set to reappear in the courtroom shortly. The trial has concluded against Police Officers Evan Runyan and Nathan Satori. The Officers are accused of killing DeMarr Lacey, and unarmed teen on the city’s East side. We will have live coverage from Cleveland at the courthouse where we should be hearing the verdict any moment now….

#2BC

Follow us Online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP10 - “The Verdict is Out!” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 4/2/2018 Time: 4:40 pm PST

Mood:

“In the matter of Case Number 2-2318426 The State of Ohio vs. Evan Runyan the court finds the defendant … NOT GUILTY. In the matter of Case Number 2-2318427 The State of Ohio vs. Nathan Santori the court finds the defendant… NOT GUILTY!”

Zaria’s heart sank into her Adidas sneakers. Far from surprised, this was in fact the outcome that Zaria had dreaded all along. Black people know how this goes: Poor unarmed black youth shot by white police officers. Police officers get top notch legal defense paid for by racists and apologists. Police officers walk free. But despite the formulaic outcome, it still pained her to see these killers exonerated in a court of law. They grinned smugly and shook hands as if justice had truly been served. Zaria buried her face in her hands and tried to breathe deeply. She went to the webpage for one of the local Cleveland news sites in order to get the “on location” reaction but before the page could even load, her phone was blowing up with text messages, Instagram DM’s and Facebook inboxes. Anyone who knew Zaria knew how close this case was to her, and as soon as word broke, everyone reached out to see how she was taking the news.

The chill of racism feels like suddenly submerging your body in frigid waters. Even when you see it coming, nothing can prepare you for the reality of that coldness and the sheer shock to your body in that instant. It was a stark reminder to Zaria that not only is prejudice still alive in our nation, but that corruption continues to dwell inside of our criminal system. People were already outside of the courthouse in Cleveland, and people seemed to be pouring out of the surrounding buildings downtown to join protestors who were just as hurt and outraged as

Zaria.

Briana: Hey Zee, I know you are watching the news. I’m so pissed! There’s a police brutality vigil going on tonight in Long Beach. Let me know if you feel like going up there with me this evening.

Zaria: k

She wanted to respond further to Briana, but her head was swimming and Zaria’s text messages were coming in hot and heavy. Truth be told, her phone hadn’t stopped ringing since

Zaria inadvertently became internet famous less than a week ago after her epic crash landing at the bowling alley. Zaria may have taken a nosedive, but her popularity was seemingly shooting through the roof! She had literally picked up a few thousand IG followers in a matter of days (and still climbing) simply by being clumsy. Always aware of the power of social media,

Zaria was wondering how she could capitalize career wise off of buzz she accidentally created.

All of Zaria’s Hollywood dreams were on hold for the moment however, as she tried to cope with the frustration of another Not Guilty verdict in a case where all of the proof was literally right before the Judge’s eyes. Zaria facetime’d Garvey to see if he planned on attending the vigil in Baldwin Hills. He said that he would likely be showing up late, as he was scheduled to speak at a school board meeting that same night.

As she scoured news sites looking for articles of the verdict, Zaria. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page and made a critical error. She clicked the “Comments” button.

EVERY black person under the age of 40 knows you never click on the comments section unless you are fully prepared to engage in a full on keyboard equivalent to a UFC fight. Most news sites comment sections are crawling with racist trolls hiding behind avatars of Bald eagles,

American flags, Ford F-150’s and U.S. Military Memes. It was hard for Zaria to even fathom that people could believe some of the things they were typing. In an era where many things are said for shock value, she had to wonder how many of these people were young people spewing hate-filled messages they received at home like raw sewage into our collective cyberspace. Then she thought about how many of these posters were full-fledged adults who work in HR offices, schools, courthouses, and management positions.

“That kid was not being compliant with the officers. The officers gave him direct orders. I don’t know what kind of rocket scientist doesn’t listen to an officer pointing a gun at you.”

Said one person. But it went downhill quickly.

“All of these gangstas want to stand on the corner all day. But when the police ask them to identify themselves, suddenly the ‘Dindu Nuffin’. Can somebody tell me why DeMarr

Lacey was standing outside alone in cold ass Cleveland to begin with? Hmmm.”

“Police officers risk their lives and they have to stand trial. Teenagers in the hood cause trouble and hold up ‘money phones’ and get labeled as martyrs. Smh.”

Incensed by the arrogance, the racism and the inaccurate information running down the post, Zaria decided to jump in sharing her own two cents on the matter. Her fingers slid across the screen as she tried to articulate all of the things she was thinking at the moment.

Her thoughts raced and her index finger could barely keep up. Before she had known it, she had worked herself up into a frenzy and was having a heated back and forth debate with somebody she didn’t even know about the DeMarr Lacey case, police brutality, and crime statistics. Despite making better points, it was clear that people on the news site felt justice had clearly been served.

The only thing that broke Zaria’s focus from shutting down bigots online was a timely email from “Gossip Pop” a website she had auditioned for almost 2 months ago.

4.2.18

Dear Zaria Amina,

After reviewing your audition tape again, along with your engagement on social media we would like to formally extend an offer to you to join the Gossip Pop! Team as a co-host for our daily digital gossip news program. We would like for you to come into our offices this week to discuss your contract as well as the overall direction for the show. If this opportunity is suitable for you, please respond ASAP as we have other candidates ready to fill this position.

We look forward to hearing from you and are excited to bring you aboard team Gossip Pop!

Sincerely,

Casey Sullinger

“Gossip Pop!”, Producer

Her eyes widened and her heart raced to the point that she was reading faster out of sheer excitement. Her moment was finally here! She had no idea what to expect. How much

could Zaria really make hosting Youtube videos anyway? It didn’t even matter to keep it . To have an opportunity to be in front of real cameras and doing what she loved was such a step in the right direction that any kind of monetary compensation was almost a bonus for Zaria.

Zaria laughed so hard she snorted. Luckily there was no one around in the apartment to hear her. They had just been talking the night before about how Rachel Dolezal has an upcoming documentary where she tries to explain the racial intolerance she has received as a white woman………..…. For pretending to be a black woman.

“I’m serious Zee! ” Briana texted.

“Girl, stop it. If Michael B. Jordan invited you over, you would GLADLY sit through a

Rachel Dolezal documentary, the first 7 season of Dragonball Z and whatever else that man wants to see. Like the rest of us.”

The girls made plans to meet at The Wave headquarters and to Uber over to the vigil together around 6:30pm. Arriving a few minutes before Briana, Zaria decided to smoke a cone of to help calm her nerves. Today had been quite eventful already as it was.

By the time Briana arrived, Zaria was as cool as a cucumber. She still had the day’s ruling and her job offer weighing heavily on her mind. That’s not even mentioning her certified

“It’s Complicated” relationship status with Garvey. But the sweet sativa seduction of Tangie OG helped to calm her nerves as much as anything could. “Sorry I’m late Zaria, I had to drop Maya off at her Grandma’s house before I could get here.”

“No worries.” Zaria replied nonchalantly. “As often as I am the one being late, it felt good to be the first on here for a change.” Briana called for a Lyft driver, and before they knew it, they were en-route to the Police brutality vigil.

The car pulled up to their destination, an abandoned parking lot of an old daycare.

There was a crowd of 35 maybe 40 people gathered outside. A few were holding signs, some held candles, and others held one another. The mood started out somber as people sang and held prayers for victims and communities torn apart by this type of violence. Local news trucks arrived, filming the proceeding for a safe distance.

Zaria looked around for Garvey, but there was no sign of him yet. She decided to stream some of the event on Facebook live. Shortly after the camera crews left, the peaceful gathering was pierced by the undeniable chime of broken glass hitting the pavement. “You want to play victim while endangering the lives of our police officers? F You!”

Instinctively, Zaria and Briana ducked their heads down, afraid of what was coming next.

The counter protestors converged on them. Zaria could see their flustered pink faces and their cold blue eyes as they yelled. Some of them were skinheads, adorned with chain wallets and tattoos scrawled over their bodies. Others were dressed more casually like any other person you might see in the mall. A few had on some of those bright red hats that President Chump wore on the campaign trail. Shoving began to ensue on both sides. The commotion began to intensify and Zaria could see it growing out of control rapidly like a California brush fire.

Trapped in the middle of the fracas, Zaria stepped on someone’s foot, lost balance and fell to the ground in the midst of the uproar.

It took everything in Zaria’s power to avoid getting trampled by this mass of humanity. As she struggled to get her footing, she left a strong yet familiar set of hands grab her at her sides and helped her to her feet. It was Garvey who walked up just in time to see the chaos ensuing and to see Zaria take a spill.

“You ok?” Garvey asked while helping Zaria get back up. “I’m cool.” She replied. Zaria did not need Garvey to help her, but her level of appreciation for seeing Garvey at that moment was written all over her face. Meanwhile, Briana was right on the front line screaming in a man’s face as he screamed back at her. Spit was hanging from his lip and his eyes bulged as went toe to toe with Briana. Garvey did his best to separate the groups and diffuse the situation, but things had already gone too far.

The adrenaline pumped through Zaria’s body like rocket fuel. She was scared, excited, angry, and proud all at the same time. Above all else, she knew she was standing up for her convictions and that meant the world to her. She reached down into her pocket and grabbed her iPhone. Nearly slipping out of her hand, she turned on her FB Live to film the melee. People swung back and forth, shouting racial epithets and threatening one another. Garvey held the women back using the massive wingspan of his arms. The ops were right there in front of us, and though they were seemingly came looking for a fight, they noticeably kept a distance from

Garvey’s 6’3” 230 lb. physique. Wise decision. The police officers finally intervened to separating the combatants. They had to physically separate two guys and actually wound up macing a skinhead in the process. Some people began to flee as this peaceful demonstration was spinning out of control.

As the dueling factions were being subdued, Zaria turned the camera phone on herself to describe what had just transpired. “This is Zaria. I’m here on the scene of this Police Brutality vigil! We are all here speaking out against the acquittals in the murder trial of DeMarr Lacey.

After about 30 minutes we were met by another group of counter protestors who came to physically assault and verbally harass us. I was knocked over and nearly trampled! People! We need to wake up! This is happening to us every day in the country and until we stand up together, for one another, these types of tragedies will only continue. The loss of human life is something we can no longer ignore!”

“Hey get that camera out of here!” An officer said as he tried to briefly block Zaria from filming. Zaria thought about it for a brief second and slid her phone back into her pocket.

The last thing she wanted to have to deal with was an agitated cop in a tense situation. Garvey stood their side by side with the women as they held hands amidst all of the chaos. He was fighting for them as much as he was fighting for himself.

As the pandemonium finally began to dissipate, Garvey walked the women back to his car in order to drive them home. They all sat in silence for the first few minutes of the car ride.

The each sat with their thoughts, trying to process everything that had just transpired. Finally,

Briana decided she would break the awkward silence with the one thing that was on everyone’s mind. “I’m hungry. Let’s stop and get something to eat.”

Garvey pulled up to Fat Burger. The friends got out the car and ate inside. They spent the next hour decompressing from the intense run in they had just experienced. Zaria took her phone back out and recorded Briana and Garvey’s insight into what went down. There were a few cuss words being thrown around a couple of laughs, but Briana and Garvey were dropping jewels all throughout the discussion. .

“You know you have to have a lot of hate in your heart, to let a child get murdered, you support the killers, then confront the people who are peacefully disagreeing with letting the killers off the hook. Like we are the bad guys here. No, I want the same thing any other

American does. The peace of mind to be able to walk safely down the streets of my own neighborhood.” Garvey said while smothering his fries in ketchup.

“That’s just it.” Briana interjected. “Most of these people out here don’t even know what exactly they are co-signing. I could almost see how people might want to support the

Police. Especially if they haven’t seen or experienced any kind of injustice first hand. But when you can see this type of violence on you own TV, yet you bury your head in the sand like it’s not what it is? This is government sanctioned genocide!”

Zaria agreed. “…And that’s where the disconnect is. Look at the bombing in San

Antonio. Look at the school shooter in Parkland, FL. Look at Dylan Roof in South Carolina. Look at all of the cases where time after time after time w police officers are shown using excessive force, shooting people who are unarmed, shooting people in the back. Yet you want me to be afraid of Isis? White hyper-aggressive masculinity is a far greater threat to the daily safety of me and my loved ones than ‘radical Muslims’.”

“I’m just glad I pulled up when I did. Garvey said. Zaria looked like she was about to get caught in the undertow. You might be a little too clumsy for this protest life.”

Briana cackled. Zaria even had to chuckle a little at her own expense on that one. It had been a long and tumultuous and exhausting day for Zaria and after getting dropped off back at The Wave HQ, she played some SZA to soothe her nerves. After getting home she slipped on her sweats, smoked half a j and faded off into slumber.

Zaria woke up with a headache that pounded like a DJ Mustard beat. She almost felt hungover from the stress of the previous day. She fumbled for her phone as it fell off her nightstand and slid under the bed.

Shit! Zaria leapt out of bed like her boy shorts were on fire. She had snoozed through the alarm on her big meeting with Gossip Pop! and had less than a half hour to get dressed and arrive. She looked in the mirror, her hair was a mess and her makeup wasn’t done. She took a quick glimpse into her closet and picked out the cutest outfit she could find with the least amount of wrinkles and snatched it off the hanger. Zaria flew through her morning routine and hurried out of the apartment. Only stopping to fix her makeup at a red light, she practically broke the land speed record in making it to her appointment.

Miraculously, Zaria pulled into a parking space outside of the studio at 9:04. Still late, but Zaria considered it a victory regardless. After checking in at the front desk, she made her way up to their Room 544, the Gossip Pop! studio / offices.

“Zaria! Hey girl!” An energetic and bubbly girl greeted her as soon as she walked in the door. “I’m Lyndsey. I’m going to be your cohost here on Gossip Pop!” She had dirty blonde hair, freckles, and a Taylor Swift ‘1989 World Tour’ t-shirt on. “We are so excited to have you on board with us!” Zaria smiled sheepishly as she wasn’t quite ready for Lyndsey’s energy.

“Thanks. I’m glad to be hear. It’s an amazing opportunity, plus I get to talk about two of my favorite things, celebrity gossip and fashion.” Zaria looked around the office and quickly noticed that she was the only chocolate chip on the cookie. Lyndsey stopped everyone from working to introduce Zaria to the team.

“Hey Team! If I could have your attention for one moment. I know that our metrics said we should have more… diversity in our personnel. That being said, I think we hit a home run with this hire. Guys, this is Zaria. Not only can she host segments and interview for us, but her online presence is blowing up! I shit you not guys, this is like having the “Casss me Ousside” girl or J.J Ice Fish on our team. She’s hilarious, and she still has that connection to the streets.

She’s the next big thing!

Zaria was stunned by what she was hearing! She deduced that these people knew

nothing about her and her platform. They probably only knew her from Mitchell’s video of her

crashing at the bowling alley. Naturally, Zaria’s fears went to the most logical place. “Hol’

up… What if they think I’m a coon?”

Zaria had been working hard all of this time to “build her brand”, and she wasn’t going to be stumbling and bumbling all over the camera every episode like she was comedic relief. But at that moment, a weird thing happened. She looked around and saw the studio, lighting and equipment, then she saw the faces of a staff that seemed genuinely excited to have her on

board. This is what she had always wanted, right? .

Zaria Facetime’d Gabby as soon as she got out of the production office. “They think

I’m some sort of joke!” The screen bounced erratically as Zaria with each step as Zaria bounded across the sidewalk as she hurried back to her car.

Gabby wasn’t so quick to buy Zaria’s story however. “I’m sure it wasn’t nearly that bad, girl. It sounds like perhaps you are overacting. I’m quite sure they did their homework and they knew who you were when they called your butt in for that interview. Nobody thinks you are the “Casss Me Ousside” girl.” Gabby was half right. Zaria’s entire profile was on the come up.

So even though the bowling alley debacle brought her a lot of traffic, her videos from the police brutality rally, her vlogs and even the clips of her speaking at “Bowl Your Rights” were doing big numbers.

“I’m not even gonna lie though, girl that video of you falling was funny as fuck!” But I know you have a lot more to offer the world than this. Make the most of each opportunity you are given. Most people aren’t lucky enough to move to LA and land their dream job off the bat.

Show them your full value as a reporter, build your resume and make the show your own!”

Gabrielle was right. For someone so young she had great perspective and a knack for seeing things from a “big picture perspective.” The internet was helping Zaria make a name for herself, but she was deeper than a character made to live in GIFs and memes. Now that she had managed to get the people’s attention, it was a matter of how to direct it to something more substantial. After calming her friend down, Gabby proceeded to tell Zaria about all of the latest news and gossip from their telemarketing job.

“We missed our monthly bonus for the second month in a row. Also, Terrell quit and Cecilia put in her two week notice yesterday. You left at the perfect time. Everyone is miserable. Debbie is running this department into the ground!”

It was hard for Zaria to hide her satisfaction on Face Time. Not that she was happy to hear that things were so negative at her old job, or that she wanted her girl Gabby to suffer, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction with seeing Debbie fall flat on her face after all of her negativity. Gabby finished spilling the tea; Zaria got off the phone and hurried home in order to change for her yoga class.

“20 Shots though? 20 shots!” Prentice was still reeling from the murder of Stephon

Clark by police up in Sacramento. “I grew up in Sacramento. My mother’s whole side of the family is still in there. I’ve got cousins and nephews up there still. They said the freeway was blocked off. People aren’t having it up there!” Zaria could see the anguish in Prentice’s face.

Not from the workout, but rather from the pain of seeing this type of savagery and heartlessness take place in a city you call home.

“That’s why I was so glad I could attend your ‘Bowl Your Rights’ event. It was good to see people come together for something bigger than themselves. People don’t want to get involved until things hit too close to home. Prentice was glad that he brought some friends with him as well.

“Issues like police brutality affect those of us in the gay community just as much as anybody else, maybe more so. It’s important that gay black men make their voices heard on

this matter too.” Zaria couldn’t have agreed more with Prentice!

After class, the friends decided to grab post work-out smoothies as they typically did.

“So let me tell you about what happened after my birthday party.” Prentice sounded relieved to have Zaria back in his fold. She could tell he had some juicy news because he was talking with his hands… a lot. “So you know why I threw myself that damn birthday party right?

Prentice asked while sipping his kale, carrot and apple juice smoothie.

“No.” Zaria answered perplexed. She had figured he was throwing himself a party the same reason anybody else does, as a reason to turn up.

“I invited several prominent executives and producers to that party. I also invited the cast members to my reality show “Real Queens of West Hollywood”. My plan was to show them how crazy these Queens are first hand and giving them a taste of the drama.

Well, my plan worked, and I have a big meeting next week! There’s a real buzz starting to grow about this show! I can’t believe it!”

“Girl, you are about to be the next Mona Scott!” Zaria exclaimed comparing Prentice to “Love and Hip Hop’s” creator.

“That part!” Prentice hollered back. “So, what’s the next step now that the ‘Bowl

Your Rights’ event is over?” Next step? Zaria hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was an excellent question. “I’m not sure.” She replied.

“You know, I saw a lot of positive energy in that room. It would be a real shame if you weren’t able to mobilize that energy into something greater.”

Zaria’s mind was blown. She was so focused on the event that she didn’t even know what to do with these email addresses they had received other than inviting people to the next

Wave informational meeting. Just as her mind began to race with ideas to brainstorm, Prentice abruptly shifted gears on the subject. “So what’s the story with you and Garvey? I finally got a good look at him at the bowling alley and you were right girl, he is sexy. He’s got that rough around the edges, ‘Jesse Williams’ kind of vibe. You know that whole sexy activist thing.”

“I don’t know, Prentice.” She responded with a sigh. “It’s complicated. He said some things the other day that make me think he wants to make it official. But, I dunno. I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

Prentice rolled his eyes at Zaria. His expressive face not allowing him to mask his dissatisfaction with her response. “See. This right here is exactly why I’m glad I don’t have to put up with a woman’s nonsense. You don’t know what you do want do you?”

Zaria was quick to defend herself. “It’s not quite that simple Prentice --”

“Oh wow!” Prentice said, cutting her off while checking his phone.

“Rioting, Violence, Arrests in Cleveland amidst Controversial Ruling” Prentice read the latest headline on Google verbatim. Zaria cringed and hung her head like Lebron had just lost in the playoffs. ‘Will the bullshit ever end?’ She wondered to herself.

“Do you need to call home to check on anybody? Make sure they are ok?”

Prentice asked concerned for his friend’s well-being.

“No. I’m not calling anybody.” She answered. Visibly distraught, Zaria wrapped up things with Prentice and decided to head back home to unwind.

The following morning as Zaria arrived in the office and stumbled right into a discussion about the DeMarr Lacey verdict and the backlash in Cleveland.

It was like stepping barefoot into a steaming pile of dog crap.

“I understand why people are upset, but, she just doesn’t understand why they tear up their own neighborhoods.” Lyndsay was telling Ian, one of the production assistants. They looked up just in time to see that Zaria had entered the room.

“Oh, hey Zaria. We were just talking about those riots and shit… crazy stuff right?”

Zaria tried to back out of the conversation, but it was too late. She had stepped foot in it, and

Lyndsay and Ian watched her reaction keenly.

“It was at that instant that Zaria realized that Lyndsay was one of those white people… The ones who can’t wait to find a “safe” black person to share their opinions on race with….

‘Yeah, thanks but no thanks.’ She thought to herself before sidestepping the entire discussion. “I

didn’t know there was etiquette to rioting. If people cared more about the loss of human life than they do the loss of material possessions we would not be having this discussion right now.”

Zaria was not going to be playing games with these people and she wanted to make her boundaries for them clear from jump.

Lyndsey was momentarily stunned and for a moment, Zaria wondered if she had put her foot in her mouth and managed to ruin her dream job before she even got started. Zaria’s brief career flashed before her very eyes. But Lyndsey didn’t take it nearly as negative as it may have sounded.

“Oh my God! Zaria, girl, you are sooo brazy! Can you say that again? Like with a little more ‘Attitude’?” Lyndsey attempted to roll her neck and snap her fingers.

“Excuse Me? Brazy?” Zaria declared.

“I wanna share it on IG. My girls from prep school would love that shit.

As Zaria recounted this story later on in the day over the phone with Garvey. He sat on his end with a smirk on his face.

“It’s not even that I think Lyndsey is intentionally racist. She’s… I don’t know… ignorant.

To how black people really are. You know I might expect something like this more in

Cleveland. But I figured everybody in LA would be a little more… diverse.”

“You know. There are lots of rich families out here with sheltered white children who only see black people on BET and ESPN. It’s not your job to have to educate every person you meet on the proper way to interact with black folk.” Garvey responded.

“And this is the plight of the young woke millennial. Whether it’s your co-worker, some keyboard tough guys online, or just people that we bump into in everyday life. You see the

as it comes every day. The racism happens all the time. But after you’ve corrected 100 people and the world hasn’t gotten any better, sometimes when you see Lyndsey number

101 you have to think to yourself… Why do I even bother? But you know, that if you say nothing at all, in their warped little minds somehow that silence will sound like approval.”

“It’s hard to educate people who are not ready to learn yet.” Garvey said. “Change of subject. Are we still going to the Hollywood Imrov tonight? I’ve been looking forward to checking out DeRay Davis for a minute now.

“It’s a date.” Zaria said confidently before hanging up the phone.

Per usual, Zaria was waiting until the absolute last minute to get ready for the comedy show. She was supposed to be checking on the numbers of views on her YouTube videos, but she was busy liking Briana’s posts about Rachel Dolezal. Her slacking was cut short by a phone call. It was Jordin.

“Hey girl, I know you have you have your date tonight. But I wanted to give you the update. Ruiz finally came back home. He apologized for what he did to me… hitting me. He promised he would never do it again. He looked so sorry. You should have seen him.”

Zaria was not on face time. But she held up phone up to her face in disbelief as if she almost hoped that Jordin could see her cut her eyes at her through the phone.

“If he would hit you one time. He will do it again girl. Don’t fall for the trap, Jordin!” She said adamantly. “Did he at least talk about you guys going to counseling or something? This is a toxic situation. I don’t want to hear that you took him back this week just so he can knock your teeth out next week like Fabolous did to Emily B.”

“No. He didn’t say anything about counseling… I brought it up before but he said absolutely not, last time.”

It all harkened Zaria back to her discussion with Garvey about people being ready to learn.

The situation was bad, and Jordin did not deserve it, but she was not ready to learn from her mistakes yet. Few things are more focused than a twenty something intent on fucking up.

The conversation was a little unpleasant. In order to lighten the mood, Jordin changed the subject to Zaria’s vlogs. “I see you videos all over the place now. You are like the internet version of hood famous.” Jordin joked. “Something like that.” Zaria laughed. Since her spill at the alley, virtually everything that Zaria put out was doing big numbers. Especially her clips from the melee at the policy brutality vigil.

What made things even crazier was all of the positive feedback she was receiving in the comments section from complete strangers. Sure there were a few cornball guys in the comments trying to shoot their shot. A few of them were rather “mannish” or down right rude. Nonetheless, Zaria was seeing far much more love than hate and she was reveling in it. It seemed like some people out there was beginning to understand what Zaria was about. Even if it wasn’t the people at Gossip Pop!

Zaria looked amazing in a dark green wrap dress with matching makeup and nails.

Her weathered looking leather jacket gave texture to her ensemble and would hopefully prevent her from drawing too much attention at the comedy show. She took a selfie in the bathroom mirror to send to Jordin, showing off her new jacket. After she sent the text however, she decided to upload the pic to her IG page with a harmless caption. “Headed out to the Improv tonite. #DeRayDavis” Garvey rode his bike over to Zaria’s as they would take a

Lyft to the Improv.

The show was hilarious and both Zaria and Garvey’s cheeks were hurting from laughing so much by the end of the night. As they made their way to the exit, the crowd was beginning to thin. As the people dispersed, Zaria could see a man walking towards them. It was Omar.

“Yo. Hey stranger.” Omar said as he walked up to Zaria. “What’s up? What are you doing here?” Zaria asked somewhat startled.

“Zaria, I know you ghosted me. You didn’t return my calls. But I wanted to talk to you.”

Garvey, who had been standing there the entire time was feeing rather disrespected and seeing Zaria’s mounting frustration was only making him big mad.

“Bro, do we have a problem here? You are interrupting our date right now. You are coming over here, pissing my girl off. Because we can run this fade if you want to.”

Omar was much shorter than Garvey but he was hardly the type to back down from a challenge. “You don’t want these problems, Musiq Soulchild!” Omar snapped at Garvey. As he started to rock back and forth like he was ready for action. Zaria could see this turning into a hyper aggressive pissing contest and she dragged Omar by the arm away from the situation.

“Omar! What do you want? This is hella disrespectful!” “Look. I know. It’s not cool. I was trying to get in touch with you, but you weren’t returning my calls! We need to talk! Zaria, I contracted an STD. I really think that you should go get yourself tested as soon as possible.”

#2BC

Follow us Online: amillionlittlelights.com Catch Our Weekly Show on FB Live: facebook.com obeliskmediagroup.com On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights

SE01EP11- “Life Comes at You Fast!”

Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 4/10/2018

Time: 7:22 pm PST

Mood:

“Gonorrhea?” Zaria sat in the silent room waiting on her OBGYN. Dr. Patel entered and cut the cold silence of the of the hospital room, she looked at Zaria as she asked her “What would the worst case scenario could be.” Zaria was sweating like a Sanaa Lathan at a Bey-hive fan club meeting. Zaria was shook and there was little she could do to mask that.

After stopping at the pharmacy on the way out Zaria emerged from the office no less rattled than she was walking in. Fortunately Jordin came with her and was waiting in the lobby for her friend.

“Thanks for coming to this appointment with me, girl. I’ve never had any kind of scare like this before. I just can’t believe that Omar would put me and himself at risk like this.”

“Oh, it happens.” Jordin said most assuredly. When I was 15, my second boyfriend, Alan gave me Chlamydia after he spent the weekend in Tijuana at his cousin’s bachelor party.”

“Bachelor party? How old was this guy? Zaria refused to let the conversation continue with Jordin casually glossing over this bit of information.

“Well. He told me he was 19. But his profile said he was 22. My point though, Zaria is that STDs can happen to anyone. It’s not like I was out here thottin’ around SoCal. I was in a relationship. But anyway…” Jordin said, making sure she steered the conversation back to

Zaria. “So what did Garvey have to say about all of this?” Zaria fumbled for her sunglasses and keys as they exited the offices and made their way to Zaria’s whip.

“Well, nothing... at first.” Jordin could tell be the tone in her voice that Zaria was legitimately shocked by this. “You know, Omar kinda walked up on me. There was a little static between Omar and Garvey for a brief second, but I pulled Omar to the side so we could talk in private. Garvey gave me the space to handle what I needed to handle. Everything was cool, or so I thought. We pulled up to my place, and he asks me if Omar was an ex of mine. I said no.

He was just a friend. So then Garvey says “Oh, you mean like we are “friends”. No, I said, he’s nothing like you are to me. “So what exactly am I to you then?” Garvey asked.

Jordin was hanging on her friend’s every word as they climbed into the car. “What did you say to him?” Jordin asked anxiously.

“I told him that right now we were friends too, but I could see something long term between us.”

“How did that go over?” Jordin asked while strapping in her seatbelt.

“It didn’t. He told me that he was really feeling me and he wanted to make his intentions clear. He said that he saw something special in me that he hadn’t been able to find in other women. But Garvey also said that his life is not an easy one. If I didn’t want to deal with the burden that comes with it, he understood.”

“Wow Zee. It’s rare that you can find a man who is willing to lay all of his cards on the table like that for you. Especially so early on. It sounds to me like he is serious. You’ve gotta respect that.”

Jordin’s point was valid. “True dat.” Zaria replied. “Garvey is about his grown man shit.

He knows what he wants and he’s driven.”

“Plus he was looking like a whole damn tray of snacks at the ‘Bowl Your Rights!’ event.”

Jordin chimed in with a chuckle.

Zaria laughed at Jordin’s witty remark. “For real, for real. I’m just not ready for anything serious right now. It’s just… not the right time. Everything is just happening so fast, why do we need to rush a good thing? Why not just enjoy where we are at? Plus my career is starting to finally come together…. It’s just not the time… right guy/ wrong time. So I tried to explain this to Garvey. He said “cool”, but I could tell that he was visibly dismayed with my response.

“Damn Iceberg Zee! That Cleveland pimp-hand is strong I see.” Jordin joked at her friend’s perceived cold-hearted nature. She kept clowning at her friend’s expense. “So wait a minute. Time out. So you dumped Garvey to avoid telling him you had gonorrhea?”

“No, no, no!” Zaria said adamantly defending her position. “I’m just not in the right mental space for a relationship right now. Timing is everything. I don’t want to let a good one get away, but forcing the situation when you are not ready for it typically does more harm than good.” Potentially having a STD also has me questioning my own decision making. Zaria knew should have been stopped messing with Omar, there was no potential there. Zaria felt betrayed, disrespected, not like her and Omar were together but, be put her at risk. Did he know before they last had sex. Everything was running through Zaria's mind. Zaria took a long shower, some bomb leftovers and Raw Cone of Tangie Zaria’s worries subsided as she surfed the net. Zaria felt in the mood to do a vlog on last weekend’s

“KushStock” Festival in San Bernardino. Zaria enjoyed herself at the festival and concert and had some vids and shoutouts to post. Zaria felt blessed at that moment looking at how her IG followers had grown so much since the Bowling video and now working with Lyndsey. Zaria was looking through some of her recent vlogs and uploads from work. Zaria stops scrolling…

“Andrea Galloway commented: “Tiffany Ellis?” Zaria’s hear skipped a beat, as if a panic attack was coming. Zaria deleted the comment. Scrolling frantically, three more mentions of “Tiffany

Ellis” WTF, Zaria deleted more and more but realized it was too late. Zaria throws her phone down in frustration and despair. Zaria felt like that pink toy car Black Chyna was swinging at the amusement park. Suddenly the phone rings breaking Zaria’s miniature trance. Zaria found her phone on the floor and fixes her case which was out of place from being thrown. It was Matt,

“Hey”, Zaria said sorta cautiously. “What’s up Stranger, heard you were out there knockin folks out at the protest, something about Garvey having to get you out of there?” He could barely say it without laughing and could tell by Zaria’s slow reaction that his joke may have missed the mark. “Just messin’ with you, Garvey told me what happened just checking in to make sure you’re good.” Zaria smiled on the other end of the phone, they barely talked or hung out lately so she appreciated the drama free call. “Yes I am fine, bumps and bruises nothing at all serious.

How has that show “Rapture” been?” Zaria remembered they had watched a trailer for the hip hop documentary show on Netflix together and had made plans to see it. “I wouldn’t know, been waiting for you come back over so I could apologize in person, but too much time had passed and hearing you got hurt. Life is too short for things to be left unsaid so know, I was wrong and I am sorry.” Zaria couldn’t help but think back to when Prentice accepted her apology for lightweight shady activities. Zaria accepted and they decided to catch up on

“Rapture” the coming week.

As Zaria sat at home, looking up the latest news on Cardi B. and Offset’s baby, she got an unexpected message on FB Messenger from Lindsey. “We’re not even Facebook friends.”

Zaria thought as she glanced at her phone screen in disbelief.

Lindsey: Hey girl! I was thinking about it. We should grab something to eat. Get to know each other better. U hungry?

Zaria: Sounds good Lyndsey! I’m starving. Let’s do it!

Lyndsey: Awesome. Let me google some locations and I’ll send you a link in a min. k?

https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&source=hp&ei=cajGWrz6F8eG0wKJm52wCQ&q=621+

W+Manchester+Blvd%2C+Inglewood%2C+CA+9030&oq=621+W+Manchester+Blvd%2C+Inglew ood%2C+CA+9030&gs_l=psy- ab.3..0j38.1558.1558.0.1956.1.1.0.0.0.0.90.90.1.1.0....0...1.1.64.psy- ab..0.1.90....0.5vpuOphAhKQ

Zaria only needed half of a second to think about it. Of course she was hungry. Plus she thought it would be beneficial to build some sort of off camera rapport with her cohost. After taking a brief moment to change her blouse and to do something with her hair, Zaria clicked the link Lyndsey had provided.

Zaria thought this was some sort of joke at first. Did this white chick really invite her to

Roscoe’s Chicken & Waffles? She screen-shotted the convo and sent the picture and link to

Briana just to make sure she wasn’t buggin’. This is would be one of those perfect times to text

Garvey about the cosmos’s latest video game glitch. She even uploaded the picture for him, but it sat in her drafts as she couldn’t bring herself to hit the send button.

Briana: Hey, Roscoe’s is a Southern California institution. You

mean Becky can’t put you up on soul food?

Zaria: Hell no she can’t! Briana: Hey, she’s a California native. You’re a transplant. She might be able to put you

up on something…. “I’m sure their Yelp Reviews are riveting.”

Zaria: It’s like… did she pick here because she likes chicken n’ waffles ? Or did she pick it because she thought I’D want chicken n’ waffles?

Briana: Maybe she never felt comfortable going there before without the proper…. company.

So we’re really gonna sit her and act like Roscoe’s isn’t now?

Zaria: It is!! And I’m getting Hangry right now! Why are white people determined to

make stuff not cool??? Briana: Take your ass to lunch. Lol

Reluctantly, Zaria agreed and she hopped in her car in order to go meet Lyndsey for chicken n’ waffles. It was still just the early spring, but it was already beginning to feel like mid- summer outside. Zaria found parking and made her way over to the restaurant. She spotted

Lyndsey standing outside with her face buried in her phone as if God herself was hosting a

YouTube channel.

“Hey Lyndsey, Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries. I already reserved our table. It should just be a couple of moments.” Lyndsay said. “Did you find it ok?”

“Yeah. I’ve been here before.” Zaria replied as they made their way inside.

At the table, Lyndsey tried to generate a conversation for them to build off of. “So

Zaria, you’re from Detroit right?” She asked. Up to this point in the discussion, Lyndsey hadn’t even bothered to take her eyes off of her Insta-story for one second.”

“Cleveland.” Zaria said gruffly.

“Yeah…. That’s right… I knew it was one of those…. So you like it better here, right?”

That was something that always got under her skin. People would just widely assume that Zaria liked LA better than home. But as she was learning to do with Lyndsay, she Zaria bit her tongue.

“LA is cool. Cleveland is cool.” Zaria pushed the words out of her mouth through clenched teeth.

Lyndsey blindly ignored Zaria’s irritation started talking about her fiancée Carter who was wrapping up Law School. She then proceeded to share what life was like growing up in the

OC, being the youngest of three sisters, and even landing a cheerleading scholarship at UCLA.

Then after college, her dad’s golf buddy had a trust fund son who decided to Executive Produce the show for Gossip Pop! because, “Doing a show would be lit as fuck”.

“Yep. It’s just that simple.” Zaria chuckled in her head while she listened to Lindsey’s tale of ‘pulling herself up by her own bootstraps.’ As white people love to say.

“What about you? Family? School? Are you dating anybody?”

“I’m an only child, but my parents have both passed away. I went to college for a couple of years back in Ohio, but I didn’t graduate. As for dating, I’m single at the moment. I think.”

Her responses were dry and slow like she was reading Ikea directions.

Things were going bad. Dinner so far had all of the semblances of a job interview spliced with a bad first date. Thankfully, their food arrived and Zaria hoped the food would serve as a buffer so they wouldn’t have to talk as much. She was wrong.

“Zaria do you know what they key is to having a great show? Chemistry! We need to be like Regis & Kelly not Kelly & Michael Strahan. That’s why we needed to get out of that office so we could keep it one hunnid? You know?”

The slang didn’t exactly come off as patronizing, but Zaria cringed with every trendy word or catchphrase that came out of Lyndsey’s mouth.

“So what about music, Zaria? Who’s on your iTunes?”

“You know, Drake, I’ve been playing that new Cardi B, SZA, Kendrick, The Weeknd, and Rihanna”

“You don’t like Flo-Rida?” Lyndsey asked sounding befuddled.

Contrary to popular myth in the white community no black person has ever enjoyed Flo-

Rida’s music, and most black people want to groan anytime his name is brought up in a music conversation.

“Nah. Not exactly my thing.” Zaria answered. Just then, as things seemed like they couldn’t get any worse, Zaria looked up to see a woman come around the corner with her hair tied in Bantu knots a t-shirt with a painting of Winnie Mandela on it.

It was Briana coming to fuck shit up! She made a B-line for the booth where Zaria and

Lyndsey were sitting and helped herself to a seat at their table unannounced!

“Hey girl,” Briana said making herself comfortable at the table and helping herself to some French fries that were sitting in the middle of the table. ‘Neutral zone.’ “What’s going on? Who dis?”

Almost instantly, Zaria could sense a change in Lyndsey’s energy. It suddenly felt like she seemed threatened by being outnumbered at the table.

“Lyndsey, this is my girl, Briana. Briana, this is Lyndsey. She’s my co-host from the

YouTube channel Gossip Pop! I was telling you about.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Briana said. “That’s dope. I mean if you’re gonna cover Beyoncé and Drake and Kanye all day you should at least find a host that looks like them right?”

Zaria took a sip of water as she was taken aback by her friend’s question. Lyndsey was taken aback as well, but Briana had directed the question towards her. Briana stared at

Lyndsey expecting an answer.

“Well. I mean… I suppose if you wanna look at it that way… I mean a black- wh-white thing. We wanna represent everybody.” Lyndsey stumbled over her words. I don’t really see color. But you know… It’s cool.”

“You don’t see color? What does that even mean?”

Uh oh. Lyndsey had really stepped in it now. She turned to Zaria looking for help, but Zaria had no interest in saving her.

“I meant that I just worry about what’s inside people’s hearts first.”

“That’s sweet.” Briana quipped. “But let’s not kid ourselves. Anybody with 2 working eyes can see race. Seeing it is not a bad thing. As a matter of fact, when bad things happen to black folk, it’s the people who ‘don’t see color’ who are the ones who let us down the most. Because racism was in your face and you elected to do nothing about it. Right?”

Lyndsey folded up like she was being scolded by her mom. “Right.” She said reluctantly.

“It’s cool when y’all wanna wear your little box braids, and sing rap songs with the

N-word in it. But don’t patronize me by telling me you don’t see color, boo-boo. That doesn’t absolve you of responsibility when you see your people doing wrong.”

It was like Briana was scolding her daughter. It totally deflated Lyndsey’s energy, and she seemed too intimidated to do much about it.

Briana then began to ask Zaria her thoughts about Gossip Pop!, What she looked to bring to the channel and some ideas she had to make creative content that they could use in the videos. By then end of lunch, Zaria was more than satisfied; not only with her meal, but with a chance to express herself creatively to Lyndsey without feeling like she was being judged as “the black girl in the room”.

To Lyndsey’s surprise, some of the ideas seemed out of the box, but they were creative enough to be worth looking into. She liked Zaria’s approach to interviews as well as her suggestions about social media marketing. What had started off as a contentious meeting for the two hosts, Reached a far more amicable place once Briana knocked Lyndsey off her high horse enough to establish a level of mutual respect.

By the time Lyndsey was heading back to her car, she liked Zaria a little less, but she respected her a lot more. As far as the work place went, that was something Zaria could live with. Giving Zaria a wink as if she was the racism ferry, Briana jumped up and excused herself from the table just as smoothly as she had invited herself.

“Alright. Well. It was nice to meet you Lyndsey. Zaria, I’ll give you a call, girl you should invite her to the bowling party.”

“Bowling is cool. I like to bowl.” Lyndsey said. Unaware of what Briana was truly suggesting.

“Hanging out was… interesting. We’ll have to do it again sometime soon.” Lyndsey said.

She gave Zaria one of those stock issue white girl smiles where they show every single tooth in their mouth. It was hard to tell if she was being sincere or polite. Either way. She was grateful that Briana had come through in the clutch to help Zaria maintain her composure and to help keep her cohost on her toes.

Zaria: Thanks girl! You were a BIG help!

Briana: Hey, she wants to see black people… let’s meet some black people! Lol. This ain’t

a safari.

Zaria headed home to work on her videos.

She listened to the new Cardi B album “Invasion of Privacy” while she looked over her youtube page. The clips from “Bowl Your Rights” and the Police Brutality Rally were still doing numbers. Meanwhile, her videos for Gossip Pop! were already starting to take off. She could even see a difference in the amount of traffic that she was receving for her reaction vlogs and personal celebrity news vlogs.

That’s when it happened. Zaria saw on her timeline that there was had been yet another police shooting. This one right in Southern California. “Unarmed black man shot in Los Angeles” the headline reported.

There were already news cameras and a crowd of concerned citzens congregating on the street. They were not releasing the name of the man. However, the reported location was not more than 7 minutes away according to her GPS. Without giving it a second thought, Zaria grabbed her phone off the charger and headed to the scene of the crime.

The entire street was blocked off when she arrived. Zaria had to park at the 7-

Eleven down the street before walking up to the growing cluster of people.

“What the fuck is goin’ on here!” A man in the crowd yelled. “These muthafuckas shot him! Now they are gonna act like it was self-defense BULLSHIT! We’re not gonna let you get away with this! Not here! Not now!”

“Did anybody see what happened?” Zaria asked while looking around. They people were all standing their with their motuhs agape. There were children, babies, kids with camera phones all starting at the young man laying sprawled out across the cement. His shirt was soaked with blood. People were sobbing and shouting. The police shrugged off the cries as if it was all in a days work. It was an intense scene.

“Back up!” An officer barked as he reinforced the crimese scene tape in front of the mob.

Amongst the madness, there stood a woman. She almost seemed to be in a state of catatonic shock. He stood in the middle of the frey wearing a long wrinkled t-shirt. It looked like she had been sleeping in it. Zaria watched her for a moment. She looked familiar. Zaria tried to place her face, but she couldn’t. She felt gravitated to the woman and walked over to her.

“Excuse me, Ma’am.” Do you know anything about what happened here?” The woman was stoic. She smoked on a Virginia Slim as her hand trembled removing the cigarette from her mouth.

“They shot my boy. That’s what happened here!” She said in a weary voice. Zaria didn’t recognize the woman. She recongnized the expression. It was the same look that DeMarr

Lacey’s mother had on her face on that fateful day in Cleveland when her son was also murdered by police officers.

Zaria’s heart sank as she looked at the woman. “I am sorry for your loss. This is insane.”

Still in diesbelief, the woman continued to puff on her cigarette... her only release from the absurdity of the situation. The woman was fighting back tears and her body began shaking like a car with a bad motor. She slid her phone into her back pocket, freeing up her hands to embrace the woman. Zaria turned her head as the cigarette smoke wafted under her nose.

The woman finally let go and Zaria could feel her body breaking down, as if she was exhausted from holding all of these feelings inside alone. Zaria didn’t know this woman from an can of paint, but she held her. They both held eachother and cried. More and more people began to recognize the woman amongst the on-lookers.

“There go his Mama over there!” said a voice in the crowd. “How you gone explain this shit to that man’s mama?” another voice jeered. Before Zaria knew it, two officers were standing on either side of her as the the two women refused to let go of eachother.

“Ma’am. Ma’am. Is your name Chardonnay Jackson? We need to speak with you for a moment, Ma’am. Could you step over here with us please?

Ms. Jackson looked up at the two black officers who had been sent over to address her.

She shook her head affirimatively while speaking as few words as possible. “That’s me.” Ms.

Jackson uttered.

“Mrs. Jackson, We’ve had a very serious incident out here today. We need you to step over here for a second.”

She was petrified. The officer extended his hand to Ms. Jackson, offering to escort her beyond the police tape and into the actual crime scene. As Officer Williams took her hand to guide her under the barriar, Ms. Jackson clenched Zaria’s hand even tighter.

“I’m sorry Ma’am. I can only permit you this close to the investigation. No one else.”

“We’re family.” Ms. Jackson snarled. “You’ve already killed my son. I better keep tabs on my neice. She might be next.”

Officer Willams held the caution tape up allowing both women to crouch underneath.

Officer Williams escorted them over to two white officers who were clearly more credentialed than he was.

“Sargent Oliver, Detective Moore, this is Ms. Jackson and her neice. She is the mother of the man in question.”

“Victim? Victim of what?” She asked. It was as if she refused to ackowledge the truth until someone spelled it out for her.

“Ms. Jackson. First we will need to to know, are you the mother of Ronald Dennison?

“Where is RJ? I’m his mother! I want to see him!”

The officers parted like the Red Sea as Chardonnay bullied her way past them like Lebron pushing through a crowded lane of defenders. She walked up to the abandoned lot and laid gaze upon her youngest child. Laying in the tall grass next to some Backwoods wrappers and other debris, Ronald Dennison’s body. Zaria saw him, blood pour from his mouth as he laid there pupils dialated as if he made a mental screenshot of the horrors of his final moments. Two flies hovered around the corpse like police officers, standing around, doing nothing other than making life more unpleasant for others.

Ms. Jackson howled at the top of her lungs. He worst nightmares had come to fruition.

It had finally happened to one of her boys. Ms. Jackson fell to the ground amongst the weeds.

Tears rolled down her face corrugated sun kissed skin. Avein began to protrude and throb on the side of her head. One of the black officers placed a hand on her shoulder to console her.

“Don’t you touch me! Don’t you dare lay a finger on me! There’s enough blood on your hands as it is.”

She violently jerked her sholder away from the reach of the officer. It was clear that his perspective was not welcome. “Ma’am, we are going to need you to calm down.”

“Young man, my son is sitting here shot down like a dog and you are sitting here looking me in my face and telling me to calm down like everything is normal!”

“Ma’am. It appears there was some sort of altercation. One of our officers discharged his weapon, using, deadly force. We are doing our best to get to the bottom of this. We wll need your cooperation on this – “

“Cooperation? You haven’t even told me what happened yet! I’m not cooperating with shit! Fuck you!”

Zaria looked at the the officers and they seemed noticeably uneasy with this woman grieving. Zaria reached into her pocket and pulled up her phone. If anything else were to go awry, Zaria wanted to make sure she had it recorded.

“Ms. Jackson. You are gonna have to calm down. This is an active crime scene. We are going to do everything in our power–“

“Don’t you tell me to calm down When you’ve killed my son!” Zaria held the phone as steady as she could, focusing on Ms. Jackson as the police officers tried to subdue her, much to the anger of the crowd.

“BOOOOOO!!!!” The crowd begand to yell in chorus.

“Ms. Jackson, if you are not able to calm down, we will have to remove you from the area. Again. This is an active crime scene!”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, you guys did!” Zaria yelled from behind her iPhone.

“Hey! Get that phone outta here!” Detective Moore ordered Zaria.

“Keep filming! Ms. Jackson emplored. “Make sure you get a good look at my son, shot down like a jack rabbit by the LAPD!”

Quickly, Zaria panned over to the bloodied black carcass laying motionless at her feet.

She was only able to hold the camera steady for about 8 seconds on Facebook Live before an officer physically got between her and the corpse and attempted to wrestle her phone away. “No photographs ma’am. You’ll have to step back over behind the police tape.”

Hurt, furious and confused, Zaria walked away from the scene arm in arm with Ms.

Jackson. At that moment, it seemed like Zaria was the only person in the world who was really there to console her.

“FUCK THE POLICE!! FUCK THE POLICE!! FUCK THE POLICE!! FUCK THE POLICE!!”

The chant grew louder and louder as the ire of the community was raised. People were realizing that it had happened again in their hood. These two women had no idea in the world that this was how their day would unfold nor that fate would bring them together in the most frightening of ways. Yet here they were. Zaria never let go of Chardonnay’s hand, and

Chardonnay never let go of Zaria’s. Mama Jackson was with the shits! And feeling the strength flow through her was only making Zaria stronger in the process.

Now back “safely” on the other side of the crime tape, Zaria cut FB Live on again.

“What’s up everybody it’s me, Zaria. I just needed to show this to you all because this is real life. Unarmed black people are being murdered in own backyards, LITERALLY. We are dying every day on our own street corners! Don’t believe me? Take a look around me! This is Los

Angeles, April 10, 2018!”

Zaria panned her phone around giving a panoramic view of the scene, the defensive and combative officers and outraged citizens who all had to ask themselves the very question that each of us does every single day of our lives.

“Are any of us ever safe?”

#2BC

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On Sale Now!!

Title: A Million Little Lights SE01EP12- “Juneteenth ” Created By: Obelisk Media Group, LLC

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

In Memory of

A Million Little Lights

An Obelisk Media Group Presentation.

© Obelisk Media Group, LLC 2017-2018

Date: 6/1/2018 Time: 4:27 pm PST

Mood:

“Well, you came to Los Angeles to get discovered right?” Garvey said. He was half joking/ half serious. Sure Zaria packed her little Prius and drove it across the country in the hopes of finding success and stardom in the “City of Angels”, but she never anticipated anything like this. She watched intently in the back of the Lyft to the snap she received from

Garvey. He was referring to Zaria’s clip of Ms. Chardonnay Jackson discovering the bullet riddled body of her son, lying in a vacant lot between a Laundromat and a Carl’s Jr. burger joint.

At the woman’s behest, Zaria recorded the moment for FB Live. Giving the American public its first glimpse into the pain that black mothers have been facing as their children have been murdered in cold blood across the nation. American society has become numb to pretty much everything. We were raised murdering each other on video games and watching enemies get blown away in movies, to having the internet provide us with a source for countless images of sex and violence. By the time a young person hits adulthood in this age how could they have genuine emotions? We’ve been fed a steady diet of sex and violence for 20 years. All that aside, the video of Ronald Dennison’s body slumped in a heap under the California sun still resonated within the hearts of people across the world.

The image went viral quickly and carried across various media outlets and became a part of conversations in homes, churches and chat rooms all of the country. Zaria’s phone was jumping off the hook as she received calls from news stations, websites, and radio stations all inquiring about the disturbing images she captured. It was all overwhelming for Zaria and she sent them all to voicemail as she tried her best to make sense of everything that was happening. Things had not gotten any better between Zaria and Garvey, however in the midst of the madness, he reached out to her which was comforting. His calmness soothed her nerves and his steadfast resiliency matched her own. Garvey was headed down to a rally across the street from the police station. He implored everyone to come in a group text, but Zaria was the only one available to make it. Weary, with her head still spinning, Zaria made her way to the gathering of people across the street from police headquarters speaking out against the tragedy that had seemingly gripped the whole nation. The Uber pulled up to the gathering.

Zaria could see Garvey speaking to the crowd as she arrived. He stood several inches over the crowd as was easy to spot from a long ways away. Zaria turned her phone camera on herself as she walked up to the crowd.

“Hey Everybody, It’s your girl, Zaria Amina again. I’m here outside of the Los Angeles police station. Where citizens are gathering in protest of the shooting of Ronald Dennison an unarmed black man. Murdered in broad daylight her in southern California. Right now, we have

Garvey Blythewood President of The Wave, a local group of police activists, looking to put an end to police brutality.” Zaria turned the phone towards Garvey, holding it steady in order to capture what he had to say.”

“….The LAPD has some questions to answer!” Garvey yelled into a megaphone, projecting his voice across the street, practically hurling his words at the police station. “We’re not going to take this lying down! Not our children! Not our city! Not this time!” The crowd roared with applause as Garvey jabbed his finger in the air towards the building as if he was pushing someone in their chest. A few people came with signs. Many others just came with a voice for change.

Just then, a black officer comes out of the building, making a B-line for the protestors.

Garvey saw him coming from a mile away. “Just the man we wanted to see.” Garvey sarcastically chuckled. The officer refused to take his sunglasses of or even look Garvey in the face. “Look everybody. In light of recent events, we understand that many of you are frustrated with. We want to be respectful of that and sensitive to your position. But you can’t yell into a megaphone, unless you wish to be cited with a noise violation.”

Garvey eyed him up like a bouncer at a nightclub would do. “So they sent out the black officer because we talk the same language, right? How does it feel bruh? How does it feel to get that love from your people and so much contempt from society only to see the exact opposite when you put on your work clothes? These people don’t love you, bro! The only difference between you and Ronald Dennison is what you were doing on April 9, 2018!”

The officer stood with his arms folded. It was evident that Garvey was getting under his skin. Garvey set the megaphone on the ground and continued to testify in front of the people. “A badge can’t save you! Money can’t save you! Having w friends won’t save you! Mr. Officer, bro. You can’t sit here and watch the same news stories I do. See the same violence I do and proudly put that badge on every morning and think that everything is ok!”

“You think I don’t see what’s going on? My father was a cop and my grandfather was too. My family has been putting it on the line to make Los Angeles safe day in and day out for over 50 years. People think it’s easy to put yourself in dangerous and uncertain situations every day. Look, I’m not no sellout. I’m a man doing my job, fulfilling my duty to protect and serve the greater LA County area. We are out here every day risking our necks so that my son and yours can live in a safer world. Don’t play me like I don’t know what time it is!”

Zaria was riveted to the exchange between Garvey and the black officer. They didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but they were able to end the conversation with a handshake and an element of mutual respect. Per usual, the video blew up as soon as Zaria posted it. Few people had seen real dialog like this take place between the community and one of the thousands of

African-American police officers, sworn to protect the people, yet being vilified for it at the same time.

After talking with some citizens and taking down their contact information, Garvey was noticeably drained. He would often get splitting migraines from overworking himself and Zaria knew him well enough to tell by the expression on his face. Feeling his pain, Zaria ran her fingers through his locks in the back of the Uber as he awkwardly tried to positon his large frame in order to lay his head in her lap. His mind still traveled a million miles a minute, but

Garvey furrowed his brow as Zaria massaged his temples.

“Garvey.” Zaria said while looking at her phone. “Hmmm?” He inquired with an inquisitive grunt. “You should see the comments under this video I did with you talking to the cop. Everybody is talking about it. It’s even doing better than my Beyoncé Coachella response video did.” He gave

Zaria a thumbs up.

“All that pop culture shit is cool, but at the end of the day, people want that real connection.

There’s a million YouTube bloggers giving us stories on Blac Chyna and Tekashi 69. Where can you go to find some real s- though? Your voicemail is probably full of reporters wanting to talk to you about this real stuff but you are over here worried about Instagram beefs. Sometimes we need to open our eyes and look at the opportunities God is laying out in front of us.”

“Well, the celeb news was the only stuff working for a long time.” Zaria explained, defending her platform. “Besides, my celeb news views have been steadily growing ever since I started working with Gossip Pop!”

“Briana told me all about The Gossip Pop! girl.” He said with a smirk. His eyes were still closed, but Zaria could tell by his talkative mood, Garvey was beginning to feel better. “You need to leave that lane for them over there. Let’s build a platform for the movement. You already have the vision, the talent, and the content. Would you rather be one of a million little lights in this city, or one bright light for the entire world?”

Zaria had never thought of it in that context before. Garvey did raise some valid points.

Zaria’s posts about the Wave and related to the movement were getting hella views, but the entertainment reporter career was something she had fantasized about even back to her teen years in Cleveland. Finally she was starting to see the fruits of her labor in that field as well. She knew that she had come too far to stop now. She deliberated to herself about her future, until the latest headline stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Hey. Isn’t Barstow like halfway between here and Vegas?” She asked Garvey without looking up from her phone. To Zaria’s chagrin, he had faded off back into slumber and Garvey was snoring like a middle aged truck driver. She decided not to wake him up to break the news to him about this latest senseless murder nearby. Besides, she was certain he would know all about it when he woke up.

Zaria went into the bedroom, taking off her clothes and underwear, she slipped on a large t-shirt and sat back down to edit an interview she had conducted the other day with Ms.

Jackson. It was the only interview she had granted. Mainly because she felt that she could trust

Zaria, and once she discovered Zaria was a reporter, she felt that she could deliver the message she wanted to without it being edited or filtered like the evening news. After putting the finishing touches on the video, Zaria pulled out an old Cleveland Browns blanket and covered

Garvey before retiring to the bedroom to get some sleep herself.

That night, as Zaria slept, Garvey awoke and made his way into the bedroom. He climbed in bed behind Zaria. She was aroused out of her slumber with the feeling of Garvey’s massive hands cupping her breasts. He massaged them slowly, causing her nipples to tingle from the very sensation of his touch. Zaria let out a breathy moan as Garvey took control….

The next day Zaria recapped the night with her girl, Gabby. There had been so much going on in her life as of late, it felt like Zaria could hardly find time for her friends anymore.

She needed an opportunity to clear her mind and unwind with a friend. The two friends decided to get away from the anxiety of city life and to spend the afternoon on a hike.

“Girl, it sounds like you got #metoo’d last night!” Gabby said jokingly. Zaria corrected her immediately. “Chill. It wasn’t nothing like that.” She said rolling her eyes facetiously. I wasn’t expecting it… but it was hot. Besides, it’s sexy when a man knows what he wants.”

“Hey. Well, he knew he wanted to eat them groceries!” Gabby said.

“Yeah….” Zaria said while trailing off, still in bliss from reminiscing on last night.

“So….” Gabby asked snapping her out of her daydream “What’s up with you guys now.

Are you dating? No dating? Hooking up?”

“I’m not exactly sure anymore.” Zaria said sounding rather puzzled. It felt like the world was moving so fast all around her these days. Amidst the whirlwind, having someone by her side with that could match her strength and passion felt magical. But Zaria had overcome a lot in her life to get to this point. She was insistent on not letting any man derail her from her journey.

As for the journey they were walking on, Zaria and Gabrielle shuffled their feet leaving a cloud of dust in their wake as they dug their feet in to make the steep incline. It was a typical warm, sunny, SoCal afternoon and Zaria could feel the sweat dripping from her forehead as the two made it up Brush Canyon Trail. There friends caught up as they made their way up the winding path.

“You know, I gave a lot of thought to some of the things Briana said a couple of weeks back about the wage gap. Especially for Latinas. I was thinking about it, and I can’t be doing customer service for the rest of my life, getting cussed out over the phones every day, forget that! So now, every night instead of watching reality TV, I watch instructional I.T. videos on

YouTube. The goal is once I get my certifications, I can open an I.T. company and work for myself. It’s a field where you can potentially make six figures without a degree.” Gabby said as pulled her ponytail through the hole in the back of her cap.

A broad smile spread across Zaria’s face. She was so excited to hear her friend was making such great moves. Aside from moving away from the verbal abuse of call center life,

Zaria loved that Gabby was not only looking to improve herself, but to strive for self- employment

“You know, nobody is going to pay you the way truly deserve out here. Might as well build your own company and pay yourself.” She said, wiping the sweat from her forehead before taking a sip of her water. The friends finally reached their destination, high above the

“City of Angels” and behind the Hollywood sign. After taking a quick break to relax, take in the view and snap a few selfies, they decided it was time to head back down to where they parked.

Zaria got back to the car and saw that she already had a bunch of notifications. This was not particularly abnormal seeing as everything she had been posting lately seemed to go viral.

However, when she sat down at started scrolling through her timeline she saw the most troubling two words in the English language for her… the name “Tiffany Ellis”. This wasn’t the first time people had started mentioning Tiffany Ellis in her comments. Last time she deleted it once. This time, it was all up and down the page. The secret was out, and there was no way that

Zaria would be able to ignore it much further, F!

Gabby watched as her friend’s whole disposition changed. She saw the name, then came actual am. That in mind, Zaria knowingly kept Tabitha at a safe distance. Pictures, side by sides of Zaria and Tiffany. Enraged, Zaria scrolls through the comments to see where all of this originated from. Zaria traced it all back to Tabitha Gainey a messy chick who Zaria went to high school with. Zaria had never had a real issue with Tabitha before. In fact, they hardly ever even spoke. Zaria always found her to be a little loud and ratchet for her taste. She was the type of girl to post an inspirational bible quote, a fight video and a thirst trap all before 6:30 AM.

Frustrated, beyond belief, Zaria added a meme on IG for all of the haters gossiping about her. Zaria focused on knocking out her latest vlogs about Kanye’s “Slavery was a Choice” rant and the new “Childish Gambino Video, “This is America”. She made the clips to the best of her ability, but truthfully, her mind was far, far away at that moment.

Jordin: U ok, sis?

“Jordin must’ve seen my crabs in a barrel post.” Zaria concluded after noticing how quickly her friend had responded. Zaria’s assumption was correct. It was all very raw and confusing, like losing a family member. Her greatest fears were seemingly coming to reality and there was no way for Zaria to process all of this alone.

Zaria: * sighs* no girl. I’m ready to throw away the whole

2018!!

Jordin felt in debt to her friend Zaria ever since she came to her aid during her fiasco with her boyfriend Ruiz a few months ago and wasted no time hurrying to Zaria’s side to return the favor. She wanted to get her friend out of the house and away from social media, so they decided to go for a walk around her neighborhood in order to get some fresh air.

Per usual, Jordin showed up dressed like she was ready to hit the club rather than to hit the streets, she was such a well-dressed person, that she was almost always over dressed for the situation at hand, and this was no different. Zaria could barely get the door locked before

Jordin began hitting her with more questions than a Tinder date.

“What’s wrong, girl? Why is everybody blowing up your timeline? Who is Tiffany Ellis?”

Zaria took a deep breath before she began her story.

“You ever wish you could just get away?” Tear welled up in Zaria’s eyes and her whole body began to tremble.

“No. Zee. What are you talking about?” Seeing that her friend was in no condition to leave the apartment, Jordin shut the front door and took her sunglasses off. She could almost sense that she might need to sit down for this one.

“You know, just start a new life. Start over, like a fresh start?”

Confused and slightly scared, she sat close to her distraught friend on the couch. “Start over? What are you talking about?”

“My name is Zaria Amina now. But before that, I lived in Cleveland under my married name, Tiffany Ellis. I had a husband, his name was Johnathon. I loved him with all of my heart.

Brenton treated me like shit. He was cheating on me. A lot. And I knew it. I would find the corners from ripped open condom packets in his pockets when I’d wash his pants. I’d see text messages and he would began working later and later. I was at my lowest point. I felt ugly, fat and unattractive. I felt unloved and unlovable.”

Zaria reached for a tissue off the table as she composed herself. “I woke up bright and early one morning and looked over at my husband. He was all tuckered out for another hard night of cheating and

Zaria’s heart had turned colder than a Pusha T diss song. She now hated the man she had vowed before God to “love, honor and obey.” So much so, that after months of heartache, and suffering, she just wished that the whole thing would be over. A tear fell from her eye onto the bedsheets as she stared at Brenton with the level of contempt that usually only reserved for clowns like Aaron Schlossberg, that racist New York lawyer.

“I just wish he was out of my life, Lord.” Zaria thought to herself as she closed her eyes. “I wish I could just start all over. I deserve a better life than this, I deserve to be happy. If you give me another chance at life I swear to you I will make the most of it.”

Ouch! Zaria said to herself. She could feel their child moving within her stomach. It was their first child and Zaria was overcome with joy, she remembered. “After losing my own mother a few years prior, words could not describe how excited I was to start my new life with our new family. But suddenly, the future seemed so much bleaker. Was I really sentenced to a lifetime of this? Was I supposed to leave and breakup my family before we even had a chance to succeed? Do I stay knowing full on well this n was fucking around on me, in some sort of complicit silence because that’s what a good wife is supposed to do?”

Jordin hung onto every word of her friend’s journey. Zaria had never been this candid with anyone about her backstory and how she came to Los Angeles. She scooted over close to her Zaria and held her friend’s hand. She was literally trembling as she recounted her life… That was until her mind jumped to a startling line of questioning. “You didn’t kill him, girl, did you?”

“No! I DIDN’T KILL HIM!” Zaria defended herself. “I mean I don’t feel like I did…. So, like I said, I did, kinda pray to God to give me a new start and to take him out of my life. Next thing you know, very same day, Brenton is “working late” as usual when I get a call that he’s been in an accident. A bad one. Come to find out, this fool was texting some girl while driving, hit a patch of black ice slid into oncoming traffic and collided with a semi.”

Jordin face recoiled at the sound of Zaria’s husband’s demise.

“I was devastated. We had been together for years. But there was a part of me in the back of my mind that felt like this was Juneteenth, ya know? Like…. This could be another chance at “freedom”, so-to-speak, but where do I go? What do I do? Only catch was, I was still pregnant. Brenton was an only child, so his family name would be survived by the baby growing inside of me. So in the midst of the grief and the shock, I was toiling night and day over the decision of whether or not to keep the pregnancy. It was the hardest decision of my life, Jordin, but I had finally made up my mind to go through with the abortion.”

Zaria’s phone was blowing up with back to back calls from Garvey, but she continued to ignore them all. She needed to finish telling her truth.

“So I finally make my decision to call Planned Parenthood, I go to sleep expecting to call first thing in the morning. I wake up and the middle of the night, my stomach is hurting, I cut on the light and there is blood all in my bed. I get rushed to the hospital only to have a miscarriage.

Here I am, Tiffany Ellis, widowed, miserable with a big life insurance check and no family. So I took a long look in the mirror and asked myself “what would make you happy?” I don’t know if we as black women ask ourselves that enough. We are busy running around carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders, raising families, holding down jobs, getting degrees….. When do we get to live life on our terms?” “Damn girl, I had no clue you had been through so much.” Jordin was virtually speechless. Her heart broke for Zaria…. err Tiffany. “So where did all this “Zaria” stuff come from?”

“After everything I had been through, I just wanted a fresh start. I wanted a new life. So

I took the life insurance money, got some lipo, bought a new wardrobe and car and moved out here to follow my dream. Tiffany was just so…. regular and weak. So Zaria Amina sort of became my “Sasha Fierce.” Zaria is strong and confident and sexy. None of the things I was allowed to be before. So I’ve reinvented myself, new name, new body, I started lying about my age… I’m a fucking phony!”

“Please, this is Hollywood. The only people not lying about their age are the Muppets.”

Jordin snapped with a sarcastic jab at her friend. Jordin had heard enough. “Zaria you are an amazing and resilient woman. You are like any of us, just trying to find yourself in this world.

Sometimes that discovery take us on a journey. I don’t care if your name is Zaria or Tiffany. I don’t care about the surgery or your age or any of that. I know that my friend Zaria is a good person, and I am thankful for having such a compassionate, wonderful friend in my life. You look at it as you came to Los Angeles to get discovered. I feel like you came to Los Angeles to discover yourself.”

Zaria was flattered by her friend’s gracious remarks, but she was still in the middle of a deep panic over being exposed like this online. It almost felt like an invasion of her privacy, but

Zaria understood that there is no such thing as privacy when you are posting your life on the internet. Jordin had to go to work as did Zaria, but it meant a lot to Zaria for her friend to come check on her like that. Zaria washed her face and fixed her makeup before hot footing it over to the Gossip

Pop! Studio for another day or reporting. She had jotted down a few stories that she wanted to possibly discuss on the show today. Like…. The NFL forcing all of their players to stand during the national anthem next season, and Morgan Freeman’s sexual assault allegations. But before she could even mention any of her bullet points in the meeting, Lyndsay stopped her.

“Hey Zar…. Before we get things going today there was something brought to our attention last night that we wanted to go over with you. We recently made some changes to our social media content policy here, and we’d like for you to have a look at it and sign off at the bottom please.

They plopped the thick contract down in front of her and Zaria stared at it in bewilderment. It might as well have been written in Wakandan. All of that “legal-ese” went right over Zaria’s head.”

“Let me help you out with that.” Lyndsey insisted while leaning over Zaria’s shoulder.

“This page is just saying that you will not post any content on social media that would besmirch

Gossip Pop! Or any of our advertisers…. The next page just says you will not post things on your page that could be deemed as detrimental to the Gossip Pop! Brand.”

“What does that even mean?” Zaria asked, thoroughly confused about what was happening and more importantly why it was happening.

“Well, the producers love the show so far. They love you and they love our chemistry.

However, when they saw some of the things that you are… attached to on social media and they had some real hesitations moving forward.”

“‘Attached to?’ ‘Hesitations?’ What does that even mean? Zaria was becoming increasingly frustrated with the vague line of questioning. “The executive producers saw some of your content online and they said it comes off rather…. Angry. Someone on the group chat even said it was a little racist.” Lyndsey leaned in to say the word racist as if she was talking about the human anatomy in front of small children.

“But I’m confused. I’ve never said anything racist on my vlog. I talk about entertainment news and current events, but that’s it.” Lyndsey sat there with a fool-hardy smirk on her face as if Zaria’s responses were going in one ear and out the other.

“Riiigght.” Lyndsey answered unempathetically. “Well. We are trying to attract some major sponsors at the moment. However, when you are posting these anti police, anti-military types of vlogs, it makes it harder for us to market this product to advertisers.”

“I’ve never made an anti-police or anti-military video in my life. I simply made videos imploring the police to use better judgement and to keep our citizens safe. As for the military,

I’ve never said anything disrespectful about the military. White people love to conflate issues with the police, and issues with the troops. Don’t put words into my mouth.”

Lyndsey was blown away that Zaria would dare be so assertive and defiant to the mandates that had been laid down before them. “Yeah, I’m not signing this now Lyndsey, if that’s what you were expecting me to do. I’ll will need to take this contract home with me. I may also need to have it combed over by my legal counsel.” Flabbergasted, Lyndsey stomped away from Zaria, still in disbelief that she would have the gall to not be complicit in the requests of the hire-ups.

Zaria sat through the entire production meeting in a fog. She couldn’t believe what

Gossip Pop was trying to do… silence her! Nonetheless, she refused to get bullied into signing anything against her best interest just because of some “pressure”. Like a Kanye West rant, her day seemed to have went from bad to worse. Between the social media drama she was in the middle of, the complicated relationship between her and

Garvey and the social media censorship over at Gossip Pop!, Zaria’s head was spinning. She just then remember that Garvey had called her earlier. Rather than responding to him though she decided to head down to Wave Headquarters. She needed to speak to him face to face.

She spent the car ride over there thinking about all of the things she felt she needed to get off of her chest. Matt needed to understand that Zaria wasn’t here to socialize or to find romance. She joined the Wave because she felt it was a great opportunity to help address one of the greatest problems in black America today. So whether it made things awkward or uncomfortable for him… too bad! Zaria’s goals were more pressing.

As for Garvey, he needed to understand that Zaria was still working through so much personally that she couldn’t provide him the relationship that he wants. Certainly not now. She was still discovering who she was, literally. If these men couldn’t comprehend or respect that, then it would speak volumes on them and the organization. As Zaria formalized her bullet points in her head, her nerves began to tremble at the thought of confronting the guys.

Zaria parked her hybrid at one of the parking meters and slid her hastily slid her debit card to pay for the spot. Her face was buried deep in her phone as she rounded the corner to the office. Zaria was fed up! She was tired of the games with Matt and Oddly enough, she could hear everyone loud and clear before she even reach the front door. There was a reason for that.

Zaria stood at the front door with her mouth agape. To her shock the glass front door to the

Wave offices was shattered. Likewise, the front window was busted out.

“What? Wha? What happened?” Zaria could barely push her words past her lips. Inside she could see Briana, sweeping up large piles of debris and dumping it into a trash bag. Matt sat with his head in his hand in the center of the room. He was on the phone trying to see if any of his equipment that had been damaged would be covered under his renter’s insurance.

Meanwhile, Garvey stood looming over the table as he feverishly jotted down bullet points into his notebook.

Garvey looked up from the chaos around him to see Zaria standing in the doorway with her jaw dropped to her Adidas sneakers. “We got hit up!” Garvey said with a stern expression on his face. “The whole office is ruined. They broke or stole all of Matt’s electronics, they even snatched the money we earned from your “Bowl Your Rights Event”.

“Shit!” Zaria exclaimed realizing that all of her hard work had just seemingly gone up in smoke. “Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah, everyone is straight.” Garvey said. Still looking bewildered at the cleanup task in front of them. “I got a text from my Aunt. She said the alarm had went off at the Laundromat next door. I thought I just needed to reset it for her. I pulled up, and this is what I found. Zaria felt violated as they all did. As she looked around at the destruction, there was no way for her to keep the same energy she had in the car. There was a knot in Zaria’s stomach as she continued to look on in disbelief. “Why didn’t you call me to let me know?” She asked.

“We all saw that Crab’s in a barrel post and we figured you were upset. You had your own shit going on.” Garvey replied.

“Hey!” She snapped. Drawing the attention of everybody in the room. “I love each of you individually. You guys have opened your doors and your hearts to me. You have given me a sense of friendship and family I was missing. But make zero fucking mistakes about it. I am not here looking for love. I am not here to prove my blackness to anybody. I am here because I am sick and tired of seeing our people get murdered in the streets while police officers act like everything is normal! I can’t let that happen! That’s why I am here. The only reason. I am sick of white folks and their tongue-in-cheek racism and appropriation. I’m fuckin’ sick of seeing mother’s bury babies for no reason! That’s why I am here! And if you can’t respect that and support that, then you need to take a long look in the mirror and figure out what is your motivating factor… what gets you out of the bed every day? I’m not a fucking damsel in distress and this isn’t some romance novel. I’m here to help. What are we going to do here?” The whole room fell silent. That is, aside from the constant barrage of notifications blowing up Zaria’s phone.

“Ok Zaria… bet.” For a brief second Garvey looked heartbroken that Zaria was so assertive in her intentions. More importantly that those intentions seem to not include him. But he recovered quickly to save face. “Well… family, the next step is that we rebuild. This has happened to the NAACP, it’s happened to the Black Panthers and now it’s happening to us. This is merely a sign that we are doing something right. We all got love for you here with the Wave.

So if you are scared, you are welcome to leave right now, we understand. But if not, step over that pile of glass, come n and grab a seat. We got some real s to talk about now.”

#2BC

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