Love At Last

Fashion And Friendship

As I stepped off the plane in California, I couldn't help but feel a little more excited than Vile had been. My mom was with me, and I could tell she was a bit anxious about leaving me in a new place. She had always been a bit of a worrier, but I knew her heart was in the right place—she just wanted the best for me.

We arrived at my new apartment, and I was immediately struck by how spacious it was. I was going to be living alone, which was exactly what I needed. As someone deeply passionate about fashion, I needed all the space I could get to spread out my designs and dive into my creative projects.

Mom was incredibly supportive. She helped set up everything I needed to get started—mannequins, a sewing machine, packets of threads and needles, and a few fabrics to begin with. Her enthusiasm and encouragement meant the world to me, and I was beyond grateful.

The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of orientation activities at USC, campus tours, and familiarizing myself with my classes. It was a lot to take in, but I was determined to soak it all up and make the most of this new chapter.

During one of the campus tours, I met Sarah Williams. She had warm brown skin and striking hazel eyes—and I have to say, she was stunning. We struck up a conversation, and I found out she was from Western Africa and had earned a scholarship to attend USC.

To my surprise and delight, Sarah was also deeply interested in fashion. We quickly discovered we lived just a few blocks away from each other. It felt like fate had brought us together. We became fast friends and project partners—attending classes together, sketching designs, choosing fabrics, going shopping, and sharing ideas.

Our friendship grew quickly. We’d often have sleepovers at each other's places, staying up late to discuss new concepts and refine our fashion skills. Though I stayed busy with my schoolwork and creative pursuits, I still missed Vile. We kept in touch through long phone calls, reminiscing and catching up. I cherished those moments with him.

I had promised Vile I would always wear the necklace he gave me—and I kept that promise. The necklace never left my neck. It was a symbol of our bond and a reminder of all the beautiful memories we had created.

As the semester progressed, Sarah and I became inseparable. We shared everything—our thoughts, our hopes, our struggles. She felt like a sister to me, someone who truly understood my passion and supported me wholeheartedly.

But as the semester came to a close, I felt a mixture of emotions. I was excited to go back home and see my family, but I knew I’d miss Sarah deeply. We have become such an important part of each other's lives. Still, I found comfort in knowing it was only a short break—we’d be back at school soon.

And then, of course, there was Vile. I had missed him more than I could express. Five months had passed, and every day apart had felt like an eternity. I couldn’t wait to see him, to share everything I’d experienced, and to hear all about his own journey.

As I packed my bags and prepared to leave California, nostalgia washed over me. I had come to love this place—my apartment, the campus, the friendships I’d built—but I was ready for the joy of reuniting with the people I loved.

The plane ride back to New York City seemed to drag on forever, but my excitement kept building. I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing Vile again. It was the one thing on my mind.

When I finally landed, I called Mom to let her know I had arrived safely and was waiting at the airport for her to pick me up. Sitting in the lounge, I decided to pass the time by watching t****k reels on my phone with my earphones in.

But then, something felt... off. I had an uneasy sensation like someone was watching me. I glanced up, scanning the area. At first, I saw nothing and shook it off, blaming the fatigue. But a few minutes later, I felt it again. This time, when I looked up, I saw a tall figure in a hoodie standing at a distance, watching me. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but something about him felt unfamiliar—and unsettling.

Trying not to panic, I gathered my luggage and started to make my way toward the exit. Just then, I bumped into someone. My heart pounded with fear, and I slowly lifted my head, ready for the worst.

"Dad!" I gasped in relief, flinging my arms around him.

"Hey there, princess," he said, smiling down at me.

I clung to him tightly, not ready to let go. Sensing my tension, he gently pulled back and looked into my eyes.

"What’s wrong, my love?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.

"A strange man was staring at me before you showed up," I said quietly. "For a second, I thought it was him when we bumped into each other."

Dad's arms wrapped around me again, tighter this time. "You're safe now. I’m here, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.

Not long after, we left the airport and headed home. It was only then, in the quiet comfort of the car, that something dawned on me.

"Hey, Dad," I said, turning to him, "Mom was supposed to pick me up from the airport today. Where is she?"