Joan Miró i Ferrà

The clock tower was busy that week. With the drop of their mixtape, Yungblood Forever Vol. 4, The crew was mainly checking their stats to see how well they’d been doing. It was doing moderately well for local talent, reaching almost 1K listeners that week. During that time, Dante also texted Imani almost constantly, always treating his newfound addiction with chatting with her. The positive feelings he felt from texting Imani were intoxicating.

One day, the team was going to pack up, planning on taking the bus to Washington Park to see what was up over there. Miro was sitting, wearing a plain gray shirt and black basketball shorts, and texting Imani. He already planned on staying behind and letting Imani use the studio to sing a few songs from her. Yin spoke up first as he gathered his things. “I made a few beats for her already, Miro. You know how to cut a few, so go crazy if you wanna.”

Miro hummed in agreement. “Got it.”

Flu dapped up Miro as he stepped out, holding the door for the crew. “Meet us at JJs when you done, money. I need me some chicken.”

He chuckled. “Cool, sounds good.”

Hindrixx lastly tapped Miro on the shoulder. “Damn, homie really got a girl.”

“Nah, ain’t nothing official.”

“Pfft. Whatever you say, Miro.”

With Yungblood gone, Dante finally texted Imani to come over.

She walked over, looking up at the same spot Dante showed her the first time they went to the clock tower. Dante ran to look down at her. She was wearing simple baggy jeans and a smaller white crop top. “Welcome back to the castle. It’ll just be us today.”

With a smile, Imani nodded and got on top of the trash can like last time. With a huff, she was on the roof. Dante got close to her as she went up. She smiled playfully and bumped him out of the way as they walked up to HQ.

Imani traced her fingers along the walls, looking at the notes they posted, plotting their rise to power in the Milwaukee rap scene. She stopped once they go to an older photo they tapped to the wall. She smirked as she saw Yungblood, posing with coats in what looked to be a parking garage. Yin, Flu, Hindrixx, and Miro with his hair wild and untwisted.

Dante walked over and saw what she was looking at. A wave of nostalgia hit him, smiling to himself. “That was last year, I wanna say December. After every Bucks game, there’s some rap battle thing and that was our first time participating.” He sighed. “I can never shake how nervous things get…”

Imani turned her head to see him stuck in that moment, she found it cute. “I’m still curious about your name, by the way.”

“Miro?”

Imani nodded.

“You sure? It’s gonna bum you out.”

“Trust me, Tae. I’m sure.”

With a small sigh, he began his story. “So, my mom was into art, right? She would tell me all the times she took me and my brother over to the art museum all the time in the summer since she had friends there who’d let us in for free. She would talk for hours about art.”

“Does she have like, an art degree or something?” She asked.

Dante shook his head. “Took up hairstyling. Never told me why, but I can think of two major reasons.” He went back to his story. “She loved one artist especially. I can never forget his name, Joan Miró I Ferrà. My brother was named that, actually.”

Imani hummed. “Wow. So, that’s where you got it from?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna forget him, ya know? I want him to rise up with me.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Imani said, scooting closer to him. “What was your brother like?”

“Like any other brother,” Dante answered with a laugh. “He was a dick. He was mean sometimes. He would get mad at me sometimes and joke around with me. But he was my brother. We’d share everything. His hobbies were my hobbies. He’s the reason I watched anime and basketball. He’s the reason I play games and listen to the music I listen to. I would do anything to have those moments back. Those moments of banter and joking. I wish I talked to him more. I wished I wasn’t so upset all the time. I wished I was out there more. I…” Dante stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts before rambling. “I loved him. And I wish I told him that.”

Imani paused, not knowing what to fully say to him as he stared at the ground. “Dante, I’m sure he always knew. You know how things are with men. You never say you love each other, but you know you do. Miro loved you. And if he was here he’d be proud of you. He’d be right at home, cheering you on.”

Dante’s head slowly rose as he thought of that sentence. “He’d be proud of me. I know he would be.” He smiled as he got back to his senses. “I hope so.”

With that out of the way, Dante walked back to the laptop as Imani got on the mic and began recording a few lines for practice. Nothing official, but something for her to get used to recording things. Dante cracked a few jokes as she playfully sang over a beat Y2 made, a simple slower beat. It was a freestyle, but Dante noticed she was smiling more, and the lyrics thankfully got happier. She hummed soulfully with a large grin on her face.

They listened to the practice track, with Dante’s novice mixing on display. “It’s pretty good,” Dante commented as the track ended.

Imani leaned against his shoulder and giggled. “Thanks, Tae.”

He smirked looking at her. She was quite close. “Anytime.”

It was an awkward silence. Both knew what was coming, and both were terrified of what it meant. They both couldn’t deal with the potential consequences. Of what was inevitable. But they both wanted it. They could feel it in their stomachs. Inch by inch, they moved closer…

And closer…

And finally kissed. Breathing out a sigh of relief as they locked in the kiss.

Does this mean…

Something more?