Who Dat Boy
Story & Photography: Malik Fequiere Styling by Allegra
You swear you were good, you aren’t, you weren’t anyone special you were just “that nigga” apparently you were better looking, and people told you that, and you knew that! Me no one sees me, no one is there to see me. Sometimes I think about the many ways I can remove you from my life, from the life of other people, from your parents, from your boyfriend who loves you so much, who treats you so nice, who flaunts you like a diamond because you are cool and creative. Sometimes I really think about how I would carry it out, sometimes it’s a series of flashes, a series of events that play in my head over and over on a reel, like a movie with the ticking of the projector and the music playing like I am the shark from Jaws. A small part of my brain tells me that I can get away with one murder, another says it would just be a sloppy mess. I just need to know where you are going tonight and the next night so that I can do a test run and then carry it out the next night. What’s this, you liked a post, I tend to check what you are doing on Instagram, but that’s why I have a finsta so I can see what you are doing a lot easier, no clutter. So, a party you are going to tonight out by the High-Line its guys half priced before 11 pm… I can get in. You always have a smile on your face, what the fuck is that… who is that happy, who is perpetually happy, fucking just look sad for once. I must get ready, what am I going to wear, I never know what to wear to these things.
The night was cold, but I decided not to wear to much clothing because I knew I was getting in. FUCK…I don’t need it really, it’s just a dry run. The line isn’t that long, at least there isn’t much of a breeze. Then I see you. You’re stepping out of a car your boyfriend is holding your wrist, I don’t know why he was holding you like that, but you guys walked right into the party, you looked at me, cause we made eye contact you were grimacing after you looked away from me and turned back to your boyfriend, a couple of your other friends get out the car not really saying much but just walk in like sheep behind you. I get in fifteen minutes after you, and I look up and see you, you’re sitting alone, a few drinks were sprawled out in front of you, only a few of them were yours because most of them had lipstick stains on them, you only wear lip-balm.
The music was blaring, and the lights began strobing, I was dancing, and some boy came up to me and began dancing on me, but I was still looking at you, you looked sad. Your boyfriend walked up to you and he grabbed you by the face and dragged you to the back, I moved away from the guy, but he asked me for my Instagram before I walked away, and I gave it to him. I walked through the crowd to the back of the party, I saw a glimmer of your shoes walk out the back door, so I followed, I was kind of scared and I crouched behind the garbage bin that was there and just heard you guys arguing. He was screaming at you, he was telling you that all you are was just some kind of arm candy, and he was calling you a piece of shit, he also was screaming and said he wasn’t with that gay shit and you were the one who pushed him to be this way. He pushed you to the wall, I peeked out because I couldn’t see anymore, and his tall muscular body was standing over your equally statuesque physique, but you were there scared, your eyes were wet with tears. This was only supposed to be a trial run, I was only supposed to try to see if I could get close to you, but this isn’t what I was expecting, you weren’t smiling you weren’t happy, you weren’t taking a picture of yourself.
But somehow all of this gave me joy, it made me happy to see you humbled…but were you always humble and just putting up a façade, were you always sad with just a smile on your face! But he began punching you, you tried fighting him off, but he pinned you back down by the throat, you were gagging for air and I just stayed there waiting to see if you would go lifeless, your boyfriend was making this grunting noise as he strangled you. He finally let go, and I decided to stand up open and close the door and make it slam and light a cigarette, he looked over and got up and chuckled and walked away from you coughing and walked back into the party, I walked over to you and sat down, and you laid between my legs sprawled out, I was holding up your head and my cigarette in the next hand. I just looked up and thought about what could have transpired tonight, your body began to feel frail. Then you looked up to me and I glanced at your bruised neck and began to weep. I thought about telling you that I was sorry, but you would have not known why I was sorry, there was also no reason for you to know either, so I just asked if you wanted a drag of the cigarette, your hand reached up “Thank you Xander.”
