So, I'm an ASAP Rocky fan. I'll let that linger for a moment...I fully understand that lyrically I shouldn't be, but I like his style. His swagger. (That word just won't retire)
I adore this video for its uniqueness in the hip hop world. No half-naked girls, no 80 chains around the neck, etc. We are slowly but surely moving away from some of the sterotypes.
The best part of this video that inspired me to write a short story, was the two women. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to finish this but I didn't want to hold on to it so long that I never put it up. If you can't take this song (lyrically), at least watch up to 2:00. That's where my story kind of ends...
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why don’t you want to know?”
“Because if there is someone out there who looks just like me and people are stupid enough to be confused by that, then let them.”
“But she’s white.”
“And?”
“And nothing I guess.” She sighed. “You are so weird.”
“Thank you.” I slipped the right side of my black, satin, de la Renta dress over my shoulder and turned around so that Sarafin, my roommate, could zip it up. Tonight was a special gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I was so nervous. I felt like a teenager at prom. They said anybody who’s anybody was going to be there, but they say that about everything. I looked at the clock.
“Yes. Your car is already downstairs and you are going to be late if you don’t leave in 60 seconds.” Sarafin said.
“I know, I know.” I grabbed the rest of my things and slipped into my heels.
“If you want to know her name, Kevin told me. He was the only one not shocked enough to talk to her.”
“I don’t want to know anything. I’m not indulging this silly rumor.”
“It’s not a rumor.”
“Goodnight. Wish me luck.” I walked out the door and the down the steps of our building, to the rented, black town car.
“Good evening ma’am.” The driver said as I approached.
“Hey!” Sarafin yelled from our apartment window.
“I have to go!”
“Her name is Vivian. Did you hear me? I mean, doesn’t that make you want to know more?” I turned my head and thought for a moment. A moment too long, in my opinion. I got inside the car and we took off.
“Oh darling, don’t you look lovely.” “Is that Oscar? Turn around and let me see the back.” “Oh, how have you been?” “Glad you could make it.” The party was packed and the atmosphere exquisite. I had been careful about eating too much, but was enjoying my third glass of champagne. My fingers ran along the smooth, white couch against the wall, as I sat on it admiring my view. Suddenly, far across the room, I saw them. Kevin was wearing a dashing tuxedo with a red rose in his lapel. She had on a white, sleeveless, v-cut dress that flowed down to her feet. I knew it was the Oscar de la Renta dress. At that exact moment, she looked over and saw me too. I stood up. She started walking first. My heartbeat was rapid and I felt the beads of sweat. We reached each other. My lips parted, just a bit, but I could form no words. We both stared into each other’s eyes. I put my hand to my cheek and she did the same. She put her hands up in front of me and I raised mine to meet hers, but we didn’t touch. It was too jarring. She was my spitting image.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Vivian. What’s yours?”
“Vivian.” I answered.
