Moyosoreoluwa Adebiyi의 작품

JADEMy documentary professor assigns us a project in October follow a subject for six weeks, find the story underneath the surface of them, the thing they don’t say out loud. Everyone in class picks parents, siblings, roommates. I don’t decide to pick Derek. It just happens, the way most things with him happen, by accident and then suddenly not by accident at all.It starts small. I film him making coffee one morning, just to test a new lens, and something about the specific, focused way he does even mundane things — measuring grounds like the ratio matters more than it possibly could, watching the water like it owes him an explanation — makes me keep the camera running longer than I mean to.He notices, eventually, three weeks in, when I catch him on the balcony at sunset without asking first.“Are you filming me again?”“You’re an interesting subject.” I don’t lower the camera. “Cold billionaire, warm underneath. Very cinematic.”“I’m not warm.”“You made me tea last night because

DEREKThe minute the car stops in front of her house, she gets out without a word and slams the door so hard my brain shakes inside my skull.She’s mad. Of course she’s mad.And I’m unapologetic. Because I know I did the right thing. I still can’t put my finger on it, but something was off about that guy. The way he looked at her. The way he held her hand. Too eager. Too smooth.What I did was right.I don’t watch her storm inside. I just put the car in drive and head to my own building. Park in the garage. Sit there for a moment with the engine off.Aside from that off feeling, there’s another feeling crawling up my chest. Trying to surface. I don’t want it to.I’ve never—in my entire life—been this pissed. And I know this has nothing to do with Marcus’s request. This is something else. Something foreign. But yet…I have no words for it.Jealous.That’s the word.Why?I don’t like her. If anything, I hate her. But the thought of her about to kiss him—the sight of her leaning in, her

JADEIt’s Monday. Marcus left yesterday. The house feels bigger now. Emptier.I walk home from class, phone pressed to my ear. Nina’s voice crackles through.“So he just asked you? Out of nowhere?”“Yeah.” I kick a pebble off the sidewalk. “Cole. From mycinematography class. The one with the good lighting notes.”“The tall one?”“No, the other one. Blond. Quiet.”“Oh, him.” Nina pauses. “What did you say?”“I said yes.” I stop at the crosswalk. Wait for the light. “Now I don’t know what to wear.”I glance across the street. At Derek’s building. The penthouse windows are dark. Curtains drawn.Too quiet.The light changes. I cross and head up the steps to my house. Unlock the door. Step inside.“Okay,” Nina says, “what about that green dress? The one with the low back?”I drop my bag by the door. “I forgot I had something like that.”“You’re welcome.”“Wish me luck.”“You don’t need luck.” Nina’s voice is firm. “You’ll do great. Just be yourself. And don’t mention Derek.”I laugh. “Wasn

DEREKIt’s Saturday morning. I just finished my run and a workout. Sweat still drying on my skin. I grab two coffees from the shop around the corner and walk to Marcus’s house.Nothing about being nice. Just feels like it.I knock once. Then I open the door because of course it’s not locked. These people act like crime doesn’t exist.“Coming!” Jade’s voice echoes from upstairs. Footsteps pound down the stairs.She rounds the corner in shorts and an oversized hoodie. Hair messy. Face bare. When she sees me, her whole expression drops into a frown.“Don’t you know how knocking works?” She crosses her arms. “You’re supposed to wait for someone to answer. Not just walk in.”I walk past her. Head straight for the kitchen. “Do you know how locks work? Because if the door was locked, no one would just walk in. Bean sprout.”“Bean stalk.” She follows me. “What do you want?”She hasn’t forgotten the damn nickname. Of course not.I make myself comfortable at the dining table. Set the two cups d

JADEI run the hand dryer over my hair, but it’s useless. The thing barely blows warm air. My reflection in the bathroom mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, wet strands sticking to my neck, and eyes still burning from the sight of Derek Yamanaka sitting in his fancy car like he owns the world.I stomp downstairs. Dry clothes. Damp hair. Bad mood.Marcus is on the couch, scrolling through his phone like nothing happened.“What did you want to tell me that couldn’t wait until I showered?” I ask, yanking the hand dryer cord toward an outlet.He looks up. “I’m going to med school.”I freeze for half a second, then smile. “That’s good news. When?”“Sunday, actually.”I stop trying to plug in the dryer. Turn to face him fully.“Sunday as in… the day after tomorrow?”He nods. “Yeah.”“Congratulations.” I mean it. I do. But something in his voice makes my stomach tighten.He sets his phone down. “I’ve been thinking about how you’ll be alone. And since our family is still in Europe, and I’m your o

DEREKI don't have all day, and her standing there like a drowned cat is not exactly time management.She's just staring at me. Mouth slightly open. Rain running down her face. Her white shirt is completely see-through now and I can see the outline of her bra and I definitely do not look. I look at her eyes. Her stupid, familiar eyes."Bean sprout. Car. Now."She blinks. Then she moves. Grabs her bag, hunches her shoulders, and walks around to the passenger side. She opens the door and climbs in.Water pours off her. Onto my leather seats. Onto my floor mats. Everything she touches becomes instantly wet.Wonderful.She slams the door and sits there shivering, clutching her bag to her chest like a shield. Water drips from her hair onto my armrest. I pretend not to notice."When did you get back?" she asks. Her voice is shaky. From cold or shock, I don't know. Don't care."Yesterday.""So Marcus knew." She processes this. Her jaw tightens. "No wonder he said 'someone.' That asshole."I