July, 2019 Lower East Side, Manhattan
“Niles?” Niles turned around to look at the owner of the questioning, slightly familiar voice. It really was her. Quisha. How long had it been? Five years. “Quisha, hey,” he said with a smile. She came over and they hugged. “I thought that was you. You still have the most naturally broad shoulders I have ever seen.” They chuckled. “You look great, it’s good to see you,” Niles said. She really did look great. Her hair was in a ponytail, which accentuated her prominent cheekbones and full lips which were coated with red lipstick that contrasted nicely with her smooth dark skin, which was devoid of make-up. She was wearing skinny ripped jeans, shiny black loafers and an oversized T-shirt with DRAMA FREE emblazoned on the front. Quisha looked and walked like a model but had the personality of a sweet kindergarten teacher. Niles had loved her then, and he knew that he loved her now. That would never change, a middle finger to the notion that the only constant in life was change. “So do you. Your eyebrows have gotten bushier I see.” They laughed. She always used to tease him about his bushy unruly eyebrows and he used to tease her about her big kneecaps. They had been together for only six months, but they had known that they were meant for each other. Twin flames. The only type of fire that could not be extinguished. “How have you been?” Niles asked. “I’ve been good, I’m a stylist and image consultant now. I’ve worked on a couple of film sets and I have a few high- profile clients. I also have an online female clothing store.” “I’m happy for you, Quisha.” “Thanks.” She knew that he wasn’t just being polite. She knew it was genuine. Niles was the most decent human being she had ever met. Ironically, it was the reason they went their separate ways.
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