#marquise moodboard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cloveroctobers · 2 years

Text

outside / EZ REYES x Black! Reader || Summer Prompts !

A/N: I always said gaby and Ez look like siblings…freud would love my ass for saying that. Here’s me having a poke at that here in my final summer prompts. It’s nothing too serious just something to wrap up the remaining summer writing season BUT I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t take this piece someplace else right? 😉

WARNINGS: turned out much lengthy than intended for no reason! Sorry about that! + conflicting relationships? And before y’all ask there will most likely not be a part two lol. Just call me part i. Ess from now on 🤭

Plot/prompt: summer weddings + summer vacation

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ

some people go crazy over weddings.

you happened to fall into the trope of wanting a fairytale wedding. You wanted a marquise cut wedding ring—preferably in the shade of London blue Topaz with a pear engagement ring to match it. You didn’t think too hard on the whole proposal, you just hoped the person you wanted to ask you would execute it well. Thinking about the proposal made you nervous but thinking about the ceremony? Provided you with all the serotonin that you needed.

It was insane to your family that you didn’t fall into the wedding planning field since weddings were on your mind back when you had knockers in your pigtails. It was a hobby to watch all the shows and attend every wedding you were invited to. You had moodboards stored away in your closet and attic about the major event that was tweaked at every age. Commitment was never the issue on your end out of the handful you dated..they just never ended up being the right one or you scared them off with the intent of forever.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Warm muscular arms wrapped around your body, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Humming you briefly caressed EZ’s, your boyfriend of one year, forearm. “Yes. I found the bracelet at the bottom of the suitcase, it must have slipped out of the pouch I had it in.”

“Here let me help you with that.” Ez unlocked his arms from around you, taking the accessory from your grasp to place around your wrist.

You watched the man before you, how he touched you so delicately and with care. His skin stayed on dewy, he trimmed down his balbo beard at your request (the friction was causing a serious rash—on your part) and it glistened with sandalwood oil that would surely shine like diamonds once you stepped out into the Mexican heat.

“You see something that you like?” Ez teased you, his honey eyes flicking up to meet yours once he was done.

You smiled as you responded turning to close your suitcase, “I see plenty, Mr. Reyes.”

“Oh me too, love.” Ez was behind you again, his hands reaching out to caress your backside before giving it a nice slap, “this dress…I don’t think I want you outside in it.”

Smirking to yourself you finished zipping the suitcase and spun to face the olive-skinned man who went back to rubbing on your stinging booty, “that’s just too damn bad, man. We got here yesterday afternoon and been in all this time up in each other’s faces, everybody out that door? about to see these legs and hips and body.”

Ez chuckled at you, playfully rolling his eyes as you had your arms around his neck, one hand now running your fingernails against his scalp.

“Fine. I guess we do have some place to be.”

You scoffed with a quirk of your brow, “now you want to change your tone when we’re actually here? It’s your cousin’s pre-wedding dinner party.”

“I know.” Ez grumbled, “I agreed to come to the wedding not the pre-events. Pop was in my ear about it being disrespectful if we didn’t go but it’s not like I give a shit what he’s got to say—

“Ezekiel!” You gripped his face, before pointing your finger at him, “we said best behavior on this trip.”

You got along quite well with Felipe. He was respectful, quiet, yet observant which made it hard for you to tell if he liked you enough to date his son in the beginning. You understood that Ez and Felipe’s relationship took a huge turn revolving around his mother’s death and his father’s past. Of course you could never tell EZ how he should feel since you were not in his position but you knew Felipe did the best that he could taking care of his boys. He tried but ultimately you knew Ez wasn’t trying to hear that anymore. It ran much deeper than you knew and you didn’t pry because once Ez went dark? He buried himself in it for awhile; you noticed how the club was changing him and you weren’t sure it was for the better.

Nonetheless this summer vacation was to leave all the stress of the club bullshit behind you…for now.

“I am, I’m just saying I don’t see him giving Angel shit for not being here.”

“Angel has a baby to cater to—

“So you’re saying I should get you—

“No!” Your eyes went wide as Ez’s began to crinkle, laughing at you, joking.

You were far from thinking about children, IUD in place, you wanted to be more financially stable before that could ever happen and if your job finally promoted you and you were married for at least two years? Then that would be the goal. Everything was plotted for you, you liked to stick to a routine and schedule. If you could help it? That’s the way it would go. Sorry.

“We’re not here for any drama just the vibrant city of Mérida, okay?” You pecked his lips.

“…okay.” Ez grumbled.

You fixed the collar of his linen beige top, getting a whiff of Egyptian musk that radiated off his skin before you reached for the space on both corners of his lips. Lifting them you said, “fix your face.”

Then you moved your hands to slap his ass in return making him grin, “yes ma’am.”

He gripped your hand, intertwining your fingers as you led him out of the room.

•

The restaurant was just as vibrant yet homey as the buildings even with the sun beginning to set. When you and EZ arrived most of the guests were there currently waiting on Gaby and her groom to be. You already knew a few faces which consisted of Felipe, Coco, his girlfriend Hope, and Letty.

“Finally! I thought you two wouldn’t get here until after Gaby and her dude showed up.” Letty announced, kissing the side of your cheek as you embraced.

Coco was all grins as he cradled a cigarette, “shut it leticia, this is part of their baecation so you know nothing is off limits.” He winked at you as Ez laughed, bringing him into his chest by his palm.

Letty scrunched up her nose but didn’t say anything else as she sipped at her Perrier can.

You rolled your eyes, fanning your hand at Coco before you turned to Hope, smiling at her in greeting, “how are you?”

“Pretty good!” She called over the music as you hugged briefly, “it’s nice to get away from everything.”

“Oh absolutely! Santo Padre who?” You waved to the bar tender ordering a drink before you turned back to the two, “how long are you guys staying?”

“We leave the day after tomorrow.” Letty answered in annoyance, “Coco’s gotta get back to the club! I might just get lost here instead and find me a better guy.”

“Uh oh.” You trailed letty’s eyes to see a slim boy with freshly tanned skin, dark gelled back hair, chiseled jaw, sporting heavy jewelry on his neck and fingers along with his eyes set on Letty too, “who’s that?”

“Ryan.” Hope answered, “Felipe told us he’s on the groom’s side. He’s a fighter, a boxer I think he said. Felipe’s got the scoop on everyone here, including Gaby’s fiancé’s side.”

You weren’t surprised.

“Did you talk to this Ryan guy yet?”

“What?” Letty blinked at you, “why would I do that?”

“You caught each other’s eye and you have the perfect opening as one of gaby’s friends…” you stated the obvious as you thanked the bartender for the red cup.

Letty scoffed, “if he wants to talk to me, he knows what I have on. I’m tired of chasing these assholes.”

Just as she said that the three heard his laughter from across the courtyard where he sat, talking to another girl that could possibly be Felipe’s family or not. She had her hand on his shoulder as she spoke and you didn’t miss how he occasionally kept glancing over in Letty’s area.

You shook your head as you took a sip of your drink. This all felt too familiar. Not bothering to dwell on it much longer, Ez’s hand touched your backless dress stealing you away to introduce you to a few cousins, aunts, and uncles who you communicated with most of them in their native tongue; which they seemed to appreciate. You met Gaby’s mother and little brother, her two best friends from hometown in Mexico, and a few of her best co-workers in her residency back in Santo padre.

“What’s going on, everybody!?” A voice boomed over the music, making all heads turn to the couple.

Your eyes zeroed in on Gaby who always kept a bright smile on her face. Her lips were painted plum which contrasted against her gleaming teeth, her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she wore a flowy cream dotted ruffle midi dress with a slit going down her chest. She looked gorgeous and extremely happier than usual.

You met Gaby back home through coco and Letty and she told you all about her life. She always suggested going out to grab a bite to eat but time always got the best of the both of you. She only had her mother and brother here until she learned that Felipe was her family too. It was also mind-blowing to know that her and Ez were also a thing way back when…until they learned they were related. So it was a little odd to try and be friends with her, it wasn’t necessarily intentional it was just the way it played out.

How could you have something against a woman you barely knew? Ez didn’t talk much about their few months together but he did tell you that when he fell, he fell hard. It wasn’t like him to not get attached to someone and he admitted he only had one (shockingly) emotionless fling after Gaby before you came along.

“Hi everyone, thank you for coming!” Gaby waved at all the cheering faces.

It wasn’t until your eyes moved to her fiancé did you find yourself choking a bit. Realizing that you had a cup in your hand, you bought the alcohol to your lips hoping to soothe your almost full-on choking fit.

“You okay?” Ez said into your ear.

Your eyes burned into the man that had a protective arm across Gaby’s shoulder’s. He was too busy laughing with one of his friend’s who repeatedly announced that he was his best man.

Swallowing you whispered, “that’s my ex.”

Ez felt his brows furrow as he followed your stare settling on the curly long haired man that stood next to Gaby. He had stubble going on his angular face—which was different than what you were used to, his nose pointed from the side and crinkled as he laughed at something his best friend said. He was taller than Gaby even in her wedges but you were sure her head easily tucked underneath his chin when they embraced. He was dressed in a navy blue suit jacket with a open white undershirt underneath and sported some blue jeans with one rip in the knee.

Ez crossed his arms, “which one?”

“The one I dated for four years back in Ohio.”

“…shit.” Ez huffed knowing of this story just like you knew his story with Emily.

If you were able to have a positive outlook of your first love and heartbreak then you are one of the lucky ones.

“Well—

You started just as Ez said, “I can break his fucking nose if you want?”

Laughing you gripped Ez’s bicep, “neither of us are about to act up tonight, we don’t want to ruin this for Gaby. And i don’t think getting arrested down here is the smartest move.”

“yeah I agree…” Ez watched as Gaby and her fiancé, your ex, moved together in sync as they began chatting with the guests, “but i would certainly enjoy knocking him out of those thousand dollar shoes and that tight ass jacket.”

You snorted out a laugh as you leaned into EZ who easily unfolded his arms to wrap around your body, caressing the skin of your back once more and putting his back to the couple.

“We outside.” You sung making EZ nod his head mockingly before placing a kiss on your cheek.

You breathed in Ez’s scent with the closing of your eyes before you opened them again to see Paul’s eyes set on you in shock. It was brief but you caught it as he lifted his chin and turned his gaze elsewhere.

It was incredible, the act of avoidance. It wasn’t you doing the avoiding but you weren’t skipping to get to Gaby and Paul either. It seemed as soon as Gaby attempted to call out to at least, Ez to get his attention, Paul was off pulling her somewhere else.

Anyone oblivious would find that it was just natural to get caught up in multiple conversations. This gathering was a party of at least forty so that was surely possible but you and Ez both picked up on what Paul was doing.

Did it bother you?

No. It shouldn’t. Despite you having a lengthy history with Paul, it did catch you off guard to see him here after all these years but you were not the one acting scared of this man. If you wanted to have a word with Paul, you would.

Vacations were for the temporary erase of reality. So you sat pretty kiki-ing with everyone around you, falling into conversations with Ez’s hand comfortably resting on your thigh, to switching from the best tequila to a nice white wine, and waiting on your meal of the night while smiling at Paul every time you caught his stare. It wasn’t until he saw Ez brushing your hair back behind your shoulders and countlessly pecking your lips, making you laugh and feel silly since you were slightly tipsy.

The clinking of glass broke your attention from Ez’s but that didn’t stop him from scooting his chair even closer to you. Whenever the two of you got some liquor in your system, the touching definitely amplified. And tequila down here? Was much different than the kind you had in California, that much you knew. You hoped you made it to Gaby’s 1pm wedding and you only had one shot.

“Excuse me, groom to be is speaking.” Paul rasped, hand on his chest as he gazed at all the faces, “I just want to say before we’re all no longer able to speak by the end of the night that Gabs and I thank you for being here with us tonight.”

Some loud laughs followed by some already drunk members.

“I also wanted to propose a small toast since you may or may not be aware it’s my thing and there will be many more at the reception.” He winked, earning a cheer from Gaby while you leaned back in your chair in confusion.

He smiled down at Gabby before raising his whisky glass, “as I look at all of your faces tonight, I’m so glad I get to share this moment with you. It’s about the celebration of a emotion that is so…invigorating. It’s about fucking love! and I love this woman beside me so much that I hope you can all feel that right now and tomorrow afternoon. If we can’t lead by example for all my single friends and family out there, you all are the example.”

“To love!”

“To Brandon and Gabriela!”

“What a fucken sap.” Coco muttered from beside Ez, earning a laugh from the man while Hope pushed his shoulder with a shush.

Letty agreed from next to you still raising her glass as everyone else, “yeah a real fucking simp that one is but hey, at least Gaby’s happy!”

You watched as Paul leaned down to give Gaby a quick kiss, her hands resting on his chest for a moment before he quickly pulled away raising his glass once more then taking a seat back next to her. This time? Gaby’s eyes were in both you and Ez’s direction yet the both of you had your eyes set on the food headed your way.

The night turned out decent with coco complaining about the “fucked up prices,” before taking his exit with Hope and yelling at Letty to come on before she had to find her own way back to hotel. She was all middle fingers and giving a tight embrace to Ryan, which made you smirk as you made your way to the bathroom. When you turned around you bumped into Gaby and apologized.

“Sorry, girl.”

“It’s okay, y/n! Don’t even worry about it.”

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You slightly bounced, “I meant to ask Letty but she got snatched up by some other kid back there?”

Gaby smiled as she glanced over your shoulder, “yes, Ryan. Brandon’s step-nephew? Nephew. I knew it would only be a matter of time, letty has a type.”

“Ah, another asshole.”

“He’s young and likes to have fun. Stupid but fun.” Gaby shared a laugh with you, “bathroom is through those doors to the right, once you get to the fountain at the end, it’s straight back.”

“Thank you!” You lightly gripped her wrist, “have a great night and I’ll see you on your big day.”

Gaby nodded as you let go of her wrist but she called out to you, “It will be a dream won’t it?”

“That’s what life is,” you shrugged, “at least that’s what the nursery rhyme says.”

Gaby began to twist her hands together looking down. You sighed bouncing a bit more but didn’t want to be rude, tonight was all about the positive yet Gaby seemed to be a bit lost in this moment.

“What’s wrong, Gaby?”

“I just—it’s nothing. Just nerves? Yes nerves. I’m about to marry a man, a brilliant man and I still have questions. Usually I’m not scared to ask those questions but when I look at you…I have them.”

Blinking you asked, “what do you mean, Gaby?”

“I know you and Brandon used to be together for a long time,” Gaby met your eyes, “I knew it from the moment I showed him a picture of you and Ez. Tonight confirmed what his mouth did not say.”

You blew out a long breath. What were you supposed to say in this moment? Gaby had suspicions but never felt the need to at least say that to Ez? They didn’t talk much besides holidays and birthdays but it was enough for her to want him to be in her wedding. When you glanced over to Ez hugging Hope goodnight, you saw Felipe looking away from your direction.

He knew.

He always knew something no one else did. That man could keep so much to himself that it made you wonder what else did he know? What did he possibly know about Paul you wondered?

“I just want to make sure I’m marrying a good man.”

“I can’t tell you that,” you strongly told, “that’s something you should have already figured out. You’re with present P-Brandon, I was with past Brandon. What versions we know of him could be different. You’re smart Gaby, what does your head say?”

Gaby dipped her head, a small smile on her lips, “you’re right. I do know Brandon and what we have, I’m just being silly and scared to make mistakes but that’s life. I trust him. It’s my last night as a engaged woman and I should enjoy it…I’m sorry I brought the mood down but thank you for listening! Now go.”

“Are you sure?” You wondered if this was a facade Gaby was putting up in that moment.

What about Paul made her have these questions? It couldn’t just be your past relationship with him could it?

“Yes! All is well. I’ll see you soon.” She waved, smiling before she spun on her feet to leave.

You shook your head, unsure about Gaby but realized your bladder was oh so close to failing you as you rushed off to the restrooms. You held the door with your foot, drying your hands with a incredibly gentle paper towel before tossing it into the garbage.

Smoothing down your dress you sniffed at your hands, the complimentary lotion smelled like cotton candy which made you want to head to a carnival soon. Just as you were going around the corner, a hand slapped over your mouth and pushed you up against the wall.

You couldn’t get to your taser in your mini bag so you went to use your elbow as a defense but your attacker slapped your arm down making you hiss. A glare was on your face now as your eyes flicked up to meet familiar dark eyes with a beauty mark by the left one.

“Hello sweetheart.”

You shoved him back making him laugh as he let his hand fall from your lips, his eyes lingering there waiting for you to speak.

“What’s your problem? You had to slither around to say something to me but can’t speak in front of everyone else?”

“Why be fake?” Paul crossed his arms, making you inwardly chuckle as the sleeves seemed to tighten.

It was your turn to scoff, “fake?!” You pointed your finger in his face which he bit at earning a slap from you, “you’re the motherfucker who left me, disappeared without a trace, leaving me with a voicemail and a gotdamn ring—

“It was to protect you! I had to! You have no idea what I had to do for your safety.” He yelled into your face, “Jesus, I thought you’d be over this by now.”

You nodded, “I see you didn’t change. It’s still all about you and fuck everybody else, huh? Everyone thought you were dead. Do your parents know where your at, Paul? I mean Brandon.”

Paul rubbed at the back of his neck, “that’s none of your concern is it? Don’t act like you care now when I reached out for you to meet me so we could discuss everything.”

“What’re you talking about?” You laughed incredulously.

“I was never too far from you, I know you know that. Know you felt that,” Paul stared into your eyes, “I sent you letters…even had Manny sneak them to you but you clearly moved on so I had to too.”

You frowned, “‘I never…Manny? You’re working together…don’t tell me you’re part of a charter out here?”

“No…something even better. I have to make bank to survive and I don’t want to scrap to do that like your loser of a boyfriend.”

You went to slap him again but Paul had your wrist with a quickness, “uh oh…look at you defending him and you don’t even know what shit he’s about to get himself into.”

“It’s not my business.” You gritted, “I don’t have time for your bullshit, I’m on vacation.”

“yeah…you keep saying that.”

That made you tilt your head to the side. Paul analyzed you as you silently pieced something together…did he have cameras in your hotel room? Your chest suddenly began to rise and fall with immense pace.

“Ah, the wheels are starting to turn now, huh?” He caressed your face, “I meant it when I said we were destined to be together. That I’d never let you go—not completely anyway.”

Swallowing you reminded the curly headed man, “You’re about to get married to Gaby.”

“And she’s great but she’s not you.”

“Not my problem.” You hissed, “life goes on so keep your shit on your side and we’ll be fine. Don’t fuck with me or Ezekiel and do right by that girl, you hear me?”

Paul clicked his tongue as you pushed by him, giving him the chance to check you out,“I hear you and see you babe but I always get what I want.”

You couldn’t get away from that man fast enough. The ego was still there but much bigger than what you knew. Paul was raised mainly by his gambling dad, originally from a reservation in Washington before his dad took him to Ohio after the divorce from Paul’s mom. Paul ended up with a half sister from his mom which contributed to the divorce and the bad drinking habit from his father. One thing you knew about Paul was that he was always hot tempered and a go-getter. You weren’t sure what he was into now but if he knew Manny from back home? And seemed to be threatened by Ezekiel…? then you definitely had bigger issues than a simple case of an ex.

You tried to brush that feeling off as you hurried back to Ez and Felipe who waited outside of the restaurant for you.

“Everything okay?” Felipe asked you, sitting in the backseat of the rental.

That gained Ez’s attention as he waited outside of the vehicle for you, texting away on his phone. He pushed off the car, reaching for your waist with one hand and pinching at your chin with the other. “I’m seeing a hint of stress and that shouldn’t be, y/n.” He wiggled you by the hip, hoping to see you smile.

“I probably shouldn’t have taken that sangria to the head…everything is much stronger here. Or it’s the bleach in the bathroom’s that’s getting to me.” You reassured Ez who tightened his eyes a little bit, studying you.

He peered over your head to see Paul exiting through the back with Gaby right behind him. Ez hummed as he led you to the passenger side, opening the door for you as you slid in.

All of this led to a horrifying day. It happened in spurts, arriving to the church arms wrapped around each other with warm smiles as you greeted the guests on your way down the aisle. The venue was basically like a arena, seats flowing in a curved shape that led down to a walkway over water where huge trees surrounded by floral bushes sat beyond two main benches where the bride and groom would be seated.

It was very tranquil and private, very Gaby.

You remembered the soft music playing as everyone waited around falling into small chatter. You remembered hearing Ez’s phone buzz in his pocket, him pulling it out before shoving it back into its spot. He sat beside you for at least another two minutes before he said he would be back. You remembered the look Felipe had in his eye as he watched his son leave before sliding over to you. You remembered turning to Hope, Coco, and Letty across the aisle.

“Anybody check on the groom?” Someone asked as the priest stood before them all at his own designated spot.

More worries than concerns began to fill the venue as guests occasionally looked over their shoulders in search of Paul. The music seemed to change after some time, to a bridal tune? With everyone getting to their feet to watch Gaby? Gaby be led down the aisle with her younger brother, which was so precious.

She looked beautiful in a dainty ivory cowl-neck satin dress that clung to her hips and flowed at the bottom. The veil was covered with pearls as she took her time, a smile on her lips as everyone cooed at her. Her brother stopped at the end of the walkway, Gaby kissing his cheek before she spoke softly to the priest and took her seat on the bench with her lily bouquet.

It was minutes after Gaby sat on the bench that something fell from the sky. It wasn’t just something, it was Paul’s body that splattered onto the now broken table that sat in front of the two benches. The priest jumped back from his pulpit eyes shooting you towards the sky as Gaby got to her feet, screams falling from lips.

“Brandon!” You wouldn’t forget those screams and the way the bride slipped on the blood the pooled from Paul’s body, staining her dress.

The gaps followed along with some screams before the guests snapped out of it and rushed to their aide. You found yourself moving from the aisle to stand in the main one, watching from the distance as Paul lay on torso, cheek resting against the ground with a badly broken nose and eyes wide open.

“Fucking Boy Scout.” You heard coco mutter, his eyes also upwards in which you whipped around to face the braided man.

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t hear that but all of the women: you, Hope, and Letty had their eyes on him.

“What did you say—

You started charging over to him but Felipe gripped your wrist, resting your palm against his as Coco slipped by you with Hope yelling after him. Letty shook her head in disbelief, staring hard at Felipe then she headed down the aisle to her friend.

“Listen,” Felipe started but you shook your head, “listen to me! You’re gonna leave and take Hope with you. My son is experiencing La noche oscura del alma. Look it up when you get far from him then you’ll understand. This was no accident.”

“Mr. Felipe, what else aren’t you telling me?” You breathed.

“There is no time to explain.” He looked around at the horrified faces, “coco will hold Ezekiel off long enough but you need to go. La noche oscura del alma by St. John of the cross. Remember it?”

Dipping your head, Felipe placed a kiss against your forehead and gently pushed you off waving a very confused and very frightened Hope after you.

“Shouldn’t we be calling for help instead of running off? What the hell just happened and why is Felipe encouraging you to get away from ez?” Hope panted as she kept up with you.

You ignored her, “Do you have the keys to your rental?”

Hope nodded searching her bag, “I’m sure I do and what about Letty? We can’t just leave her here.”

“The best place for Letty is with Gaby’s family right now but I know Felipe will watch over them, believe me.” You sped-walk through the parking lot as the adrenaline began to kick in.

The both of you were jogging through cars, dodging mirrors with Hope leading the way with the jingle of the rental keys. She hit the remote frowning as it did nothing until she got closer to the Subaru, having to use the key in the door.

“C’mon.” You whispered, waiting for the girl to unlock the rest of the car.

Hope did so and before she climbed into the car she gasped as she watched you get picked up in the air by a gloved Ez. Before Hope could let out a scream, a hand covered her own mouth and she just knew it belonged to Johnny’s. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as tears blurred her vision, Johnny spinning her around so she didn’t have to see this.

You jammed your heel down onto Ez’s foot, making him slightly loosen his hold on you. Your head went back next, hoping to knock Ez back some. He grunted before deciding to toss you against the car, your body bruising as you attempted to catch yourself. Briefly you saw Coco trying to console Hope for whatever reason and you turned back to ez who looked like he previously got into a fight himself.

Case closed.

“Why? What’s this all about?”

Ez sniffed, squinting a bit as he used the back of his hand to wipe at the blood from his split eyebrow. “It’s not really you, y/n. It’s all Paul-Brandon, he’s in the way of my club and unfortunately you’re connected. Like I said when we first got together I promised to keep you out of it. It’s a hard job.”

This still doesn’t make any sense.

“So you don’t love me anymore because of him?”

Ez deeply frowned at you, “I don’t think I ever said that. I got the call I needed to confirm what he was plotting…that didn’t work out in his favor either. So…”

“You’re gonna murder me too now in broad daylight because of Paul’s shit?”

You attempted to run to the left, Ez following you with a menacing smile, a gun with a silencer on it was now tucked underneath your chin. The man hated doing this but you couldn’t tell as he caressed your face with a bloody glove which evoked a shudder from you.

“No,” Ez slowly said as he glanced around, pulling the gun away, not revealing a thing about his motives, “This is hurting me a lot more than it’s gonna hurt you, believe me, my love.”

A snarl was written on your lips leaving Ez to take the opportunity and lift the butt of the gun and jam it against your eye. The action knocked you forward, Ez swiftly catching you as he eased you into the backseat of the car with Coco coaching Hope to drive.

One things for sure—as your head rested in the lap of a man you thought could be the love of your life—if you got a preview to what this day would bring?

You would have stayed your ass inside.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

129 notes · View notes

olympe75018 · 7 years

Text

Wax give me a break

TEXTE écrit le 9 juillet 2016 (la date a son importance ici) et que je n’ai pas publié car je l’ai fait lire à un journaliste. Désormais, je ne rougirai plus d’être légitime de partager mon vécu et mon expérience de terrain, parce que ce récit est tout simplement vrai.

- La copine « Tiens ! j’ai pensé à toi l’autre jour, j’ai vu dans un magazine une jupe en wax, c’est un peu ce que tu fais, non? ». C’est fou, la dégoulinante indulgence dont on peut faire preuve, pour épargner un profane, dans ce genre de situation.

- Moi « Ah oui ! t’as vu ? il y a une grosse tendance sur l’Aaaaafrique ! C’est top!»

En vrai, au fond de moi, je brûlais de la contredire et de lui raconter toute l’histoire de ma collection Château-Rouge. Mais, plutôt que de plomber ce moment de "socializing” parisien, et surtout, je l’avoue, de passer pour la meuf relou, j’ai préféré ne pas relever cette énième approximation, qui venait agresser une fois encore mes oreilles.

Car, au plus profond de moi, il m’en importait beaucoup. JE DE-TES-TE la mode du Wax ! Primo: parce qu’il ne va pas à tout le monde au teint (faut pas déconner), et Secondo: parce qu’il me rappelle à un stéréotype du folklore africain que j’exècre. Parce que le Wax, je n’y peux rien, m’évoque cette approximation encore : cette image fourre-tout, facile, qui ne dissocie pas culture ivoirienne, sénégalaise, togolaise, éthiopienne dans leur entité et diversité mais, fond, dans un pot commun, une esthétique standardisée, quelque peu révélatrice d’un intérêt de surface. Je me rappelle encore, un article de 2013, titrant “l’Afrique est à la Mode” (le marronnier est de retour) ! avec un peu de Keziah Jones par ci, une expo sur Johannesburg par là, le tout illustré par les sneakers Kenzo, ben oui, tout de même.. faudrait pas gâcher l’opportunité de placement de produits des annonceurs.

L’engouement pour le Wax m’inspire une colère aussi triste que ce saupoudrage en est irrévérencieux.

Ado déjà, j’évitais les vendeurs du marché de Cocody qui voulaient me fourguer les sacs en pagne pour toutous, avec des faux imprimés Bogolan. C’est là, à Abidjan en Côte d’Ivoire, où j’ai vécu de 1989 à 1996, que je suis tombée en amour avec le Bazin.

Ce tissu noble, en coton enduit, aux motifs damassés, porté à l’occasion des grandes cérémonies en Afrique de l’Ouest, qui est tissé en Europe et teinté de façon traditionnelle, en Afrique. (oui là, volontairement j’assume d’être boring, parce qu’il vaut le détour mon sacré Bazin !) Depuis ces images de décolletés d’épaule et coiffes architecturales de Bazin riche brodés de fil d’or, jusqu’aux silhouettes des touaregs mauritaniens drapés de leur Bazin indigo, fatigués de sel et d’Harmattan à Bassam, tous ces instantanés captés à l’âge ado, ont façonné le moodboard de ma vie de créatrice. Puis, au collège j’ai lu l’épopée de Soundjata, et l’histoire médiévale de l’empire Mandingue, j’ai bu les mots et l’éloquence des discours d’Houphouët, j’ai vibré Eléphants le jour où ils ont été les rois de la CAN et plus tard j’ai lu Glissant.

Tout ça pour dire que petite, ce bout d’Afrique m’a inspiré le respect qu’impose la majesté des grands. J’ai appris que tu n’offrais tes secrets qu’aux initiés. Alors, tu m’as rendue curieuse, observatrice et patiente. Je n’ai jamais compris, que beaucoup ne te voie pas avec les mêmes yeux et je n’ai jamais supporté qu’on te réduise. En quittant ma chambre, ma maison et le tarmac de l’aéroport d’Abidjan pour un aller sans retour, je me suis promise d’être ton fidèle cheval de Troie et que je te redonnerais à ma modeste échelle, le trésor que tu m’as donné en me rappelant au refrain de ton hymne national, l’Abidjanaise, que je connais aussi bien que ma Marseillaise, c’est à dire par coeur: « Tes fils, chère Côte d’Ivoire, fiers artisans de ta grandeur ! ».

C’est ce qui a motivé la création de ma 1ère collection Château Rouge, en 2010: sublimer ce Bazin, que mon enfance m’avait laissée en héritage, ce chaîne et trame fraternel. Peut être parce qu’on n’en guérit jamais comme dit l’autre et de surcroît quand on la sent malmenée, dépréciée.... Je me décide à créer un hymne à la noblesse afro-parisienne, en travaillant le Bazin avec des coupes de la couture parisienne. J’imagine une collection autour de ce royaume enfoui au nord de Paris, mis en scène dans un Street défilé et célébrant les noces de la Princesse de Barbès, par le défilé des Comtesses de Rochechouart et Marquises de Magenta, qui trinquaient au Champagne et au Bissap (que beaucoup ont découvert à l’époque).

Cette étoffe voyageuse me parle d’un dialogue d’excellence entre deux continents, de ponts de savoir-faire. Et c’est là, toute la subtilité. Le Bazin s’est toujours fait pour moi l’étendard de cette Afrique de l’Ouest trop méconnue, l’Afrique de l’Ouest des élites, du raffinement, des lettrés, des intellos, celle des geeks, des astrophysiciens, des scientifiques de laboratoire, loin des stéréotypes populaires over datés nourris à l’esthétique d’enseignes de coiffeur afro.

J’ai contourné les tentatives d’instrumentalisation politique qui voyaient en ma démarche un outil de médiation culturelle pour un quartier en zone prioritaire.

Persuadée que les décideurs, influençeurs éclairés saisiraient les nuances, les clins d’œil multiples et références pointues, je me suis pourtant pris le mur des étiquettes de pleine face d’un côté comme de l’autre. Force est de constater que j’aurais probablement dû investir dans des sous-titres…

En 2015, j’ai fini d’être achevée par l’ignorance assumée d’un éminent patron de presse Mode/Haute couture, pour qui je devais écrire, qui après avoir parcouru mon lookbook, me lança « je vois, c’est un peu une mode sociale, que tu fais ». Je compris que le jeu des étiquettes et le drame intellectuel de la pensée par hashtag avaient joué contre moi. Ben oui ! Qui dit mannequin noire (alias ma muse : Penda que je n’ai jamais vu noire mais juste prodigieusement splendide et danseuse surtout) + textile africain, dit forcément mode sociale… CQFD, alors que vous noterez, à l’évidence, on ne se demande pas si ma jupe crayon, mon short à plis creux, et ma manche gigot sont sociaux eux? (et pourtant ces symboles avaient historiquement pour moi un sens plus axé)

Calmement, je lui ai dit que ma démarche était absolument inverse. J’ai pour ne pas le mettre davantage mal à l’aise, poliment couvert sa méconnaissance coupable et ses amalgames paresseux en m’excusant, d’avoir multiplié les messages.

C’est simple après 3 collections avec le Bazin comme matière signature, je n’ai jamais trouvé de distributeur. Certes un succès commercial est le fruit d’une équation complexe faite d’imprévisibilité pour paraphraser le concept de créolisation d’E.Glissant (parallélisme avec les rhizomes) et je prends ma part de responsabilité là dedans.

Mais, quel ne fût pas mon étonnement quand j’ai découvert en 2014 une jeune marque du nom de Maison ChâteauRouge (drôle non ?), directement distribuée dans un concept-store que j’ai démarché à maintes reprises… mais qui ne faisait que du Wax ! (J’en parle en connaissance de cause, car j’ai pu juger sur pièce). J’ai eu l’occasion lors d’une soirée, de rencontrer l’un de ses fondateurs et j’ai même été étonnée par la ressemblance avec les éléments de langage utilisés. Une pure coïncidence, certainement! Bref, pour revenir aux considérations marketing il est inutile de préciser que j’ai dû faire une dizaine d’envois de mes catalogues aux acheteurs de ce concept-store, sans jamais recevoir une seule réponse.

Alors je me suis demandée, pourquoi ? Etais-je un peu trop en amont de la tendance ? Ou encore est-ce le storytelling qui ne fittait pas bien… peut être trop blanche pour une mode pas assez noire ? Une chose est sûre, ne me dites plus désormais comme en 2012 que cela ne correspond pas à l’esthétique de votre boutique (Cinquantaine de refus de boutiques). Mais, reconnaissez plutôt que vos raccourcis esthétiques vous conduisent à un formatage ethnocentré, vous empêchant d’envisager des propositions disruptives, qui viendraient ébranler vos standards.

La patience inculquée dans ma tendre enfance me pousse à continuer à croire en l’utopie et aux chances de voir émerger un distributeur fin et audacieux, avec qui nous parlerons le même langage sans sous-titres et qui abhorra comme moi cette déferlante Waxophile.

Bon, trêve d’histoires de chiffons, avant que le Bazin colonise les trottoirs de Paris, ça te dit que je t’apprenne à faire la différence entre un Java, un Woodin, un Bogolan et un Kita ? Viens, suis-moi! “La goe blanche, là même, elle a les sciences !” Didascalie : gros tchip puissant sur la longueur avec le regard qui va avec et éclat de rire*

(*ta mère con” - Abidjan 1996)

0 notes