☆★☆★→ Iͦtͦ wͦaͦsͦ 4pͦmͦ, Rͦuͦnͦnͦiͦnͦgͦ tͦhͦrͦoͦuͦgͦhͦ tͦhͦeͦ sͦtͦrͦeͦeͦtͦsͦ oͦfͦ Nͦeͦwͦ Yͦoͦrͦkͦ Cͦiͦtͦyͦ, Wͦeͦ wͦeͦrͦeͦ hͦoͦlͦdͦiͦnͦgͦ hͦaͦnͦdͦsͦ, Tͦoͦlͦdͦ mͦeͦ Iͦ sͦmͦeͦlͦlͦeͦdͦ gͦoͦoͦdͦ aͦnͦdͦ Iͦ lͦoͦoͦkͦeͦdͦ pͦrͦeͦtͦtͦyͦ, Jͦuͦsͦtͦ mͦoͦmͦeͦnͦtͦsͦ bͦeͦfͦoͦrͦeͦ wͦeͦ wͦeͦrͦeͦ sͦiͦtͦtͦiͦnͦgͦ iͦnͦ tͦhͦeͦ cͦoͦfͦfͦeͦeͦ sͦhͦoͦpͦ, Sͦiͦpͦpͦiͦnͦgͦ iͦnͦ tͦhͦeͦ cͦoͦfͦfͦeͦeͦ sͦhͦoͦpͦ, Sͦmͦiͦtͦtͦeͦnͦ iͦnͦ tͦhͦeͦ cͦoͦfͦfͦeͦeͦ sͦhͦoͦpͦ, Wͦoͦnͦdͦeͦrͦiͦnͦgͦ wͦhͦyͦ tͦhͦiͦsͦ lͦiͦfͦeͦ kͦeͦeͦpͦsͦ pͦaͦsͦsͦiͦnͦgͦ uͦsͦ bͦyͦ, Oͦhͦ, iͦtͦ wͦaͦsͦ 4pͦmͦ, Aͦnͦdͦ tͦhͦoͦuͦgͦhͦ iͦtͦ wͦaͦsͦ 4pͦmͦ, Tͦhͦeͦ cͦiͦtͦyͦ lͦiͦtͦ uͦpͦ eͦvͦeͦrͦyͦ tͦiͦmͦeͦ yͦoͦuͦ sͦmͦiͦlͦeͦdͦ ←☆★☆★

Your boyfriends had finally been given a break from filming and both immediately got on a flight to your city. New York, where you were a journalist and photographer for Vivant.

You'd taken them to your favorite cafe where you made them both try your favorite drink. Malachi made fun of your basic order and Mekonnen straight up hated it, but they both downed a few sips anyway because they knew it'd make you smile.

You spent a lot of time wondering aimlessly and asking them questions about how it's been for them to be in movie after movie and show after show. They asked you more questions, though as they had no clue what your entire job entailed. They knew you knew their job because you always called and checked in when you were free. Now was their turn to reciprocate.

Right now, you're all walking through the city as you take notes and pictures.

"Guys, pose together," you commanded, holding up your camera.

"You pose," Malachi states, grabbing the camera from you.

You freeze, not used to being in front of the camera, so Mekonnen stands behind you and poses you for the camera.

"So pretty," Malachi laughs as you stand awkwardly. "Smile, ma."

You give a forced smile and Mekonnen tickles you to make you laugh. Malachi takes as many pictures as possible, cheering at MK for helping you loosen up.

"Look at that!" Mekonnen says. "She does smile!"