Page 4 of Invisible Bars

If you’re listening to this, it means life is doing what it does best—being loud, heavy, and unpredictable. And that’s okay, baby. That’s why I made this for you.

First, let me say this: there is nothing wrong with you for feeling overwhelmed. The world moves fast, people come with their own mess, and sometimes it feels like everything is asking something from you while giving you nothing in return. But listen to me… you can handle this. I promise.

Don’t you ever stop being a good person because of bad people. What they hate in you is just what’s missing in them. They see your light, and it blinds them. Let it. Keep shining anyway.

There will be days when your heart will feel like it’s breaking in places you didn’t even know existed. Some moments will shatter your world in a matter of minutes. And it’ll hurt, baby… it will hurt. But let it. Let the pain shape you, not harden you. Let it teach you, not silence you.

Cry. Scream. Break something cheap if you need to. But when you’re done, pick up those pieces, straighten out that crown I know you’re still wearing, and keep moving forward. Because this world still needs what only you can give.You almost had it before, but you stopped. Don’t let that be a permanent part of your story. Pick it back up, even if your hands are shaking.

There are some other things I want you to always remember. You had a purpose long before anyone ever formed an opinion about you.

If a room makes you uncomfortable, it’s probably because you were never meant to stay there. Learn how to survive alone—people change. One day, you might be their whole world, and the next, you’re a stranger to their memory. So stay solid, even if you’re standing by yourself.

Last, but not least, we’re not here forever; we’re here for a good and purposeful time, not a long one. So trust your journey—the messy, confusing, 'what-the-hell-is-happening' parts, even the ones that don’t make sense right now. One day, they will. And you’ll see they matter just as much as the wins… sometimes more.

And Naji, if you decide to go the modeling route, which I hope, child, please do me a favor and eat first. Don’t be out here fainting in somebody’s photoshoot trying to serve face with low blood sugar. You hear me? Don’t let them fashion people trick you into starving for a picture. Take your beautiful, sweet self and let them work around you."

She paused, then added softly,“Stay, my sweet Naji. Gentle, but not weak. Strong, but not hard. And above all, don’t let this cruel world convince you that being soft is a flaw. It’s your power. It’s how you love. It’s how you lead. I love you more than you could ever imagine, and I am so proud of you. Even on your worst day, you’re doing better than you think. I’ll always be with you—watching, praying, cheering. Now go do what God put you here to do. I’ll be watching.

The recording ended, but her voice lingered. My throat tightened, and I didn’t even try to stop the tears that time.

I wrapped both arms around the teddy bear and squeezed it tight, pressing it into the space just under my chin like I was hugging her. I believed if I held it close enough, I could pull her out of it, breathe her in, and possibly feel her heartbeat against mine again.

My shoulders trembled as the tears came harder. I looked up at the wide, open sky.

“N-Nana Li…” My voice cracked, thick with emotion.

My lips tightened as I fought the rising tension crawling up my throat. I blinked with slow precision, trying to steady the pressure that always came before the storm.

“I—I p-promise to make you proud… you and Grandpa. And—and and—” My head jerked slightly to the side as the words caught, and my hand flexed once involuntarily. “shh—shine like you said,” I finished.

A breeze brushed against my cheek, gentle and warm, like a kiss from the heavens. And in that quiet, sacred second, I swore I felt them smiling.

With her words heavy in my heart but somehow giving me strength, I gently placed the teddy bear in the passenger seat—like I was buckling in Nana Li herself. For a second, it really did feel like she was about to take one last ride with me.

My grandmother had left me her car—a simple sedan. It wasn’t flashy, but it was reliable and steady… just like her. It had carried us through every out-of-town appointment, every grocery run, every errand… just the two of us.

Now… it was just me.

I started the engine, the familiar hum sparking a hundred memories at once.

I took one last look at the house that shaped me and held every version of who I’d been. It stood silent in the rearview mirror—worn by time, but still standing tall, and holding strong… just like I planned to.

“It’s time,” I murmured. “I’m ready for my new story to begin.”

Manhattan, here I come.

Chapter One

IMANIO “GATEZ” KORS

Erin’s gagging echoed in the back of my head, but it wasn’t the kind of sound that moved me; if anything, it annoyed me.

I leaned back against the leather couch, shirt halfway up my chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling like there was something up there worth studying. Erin thought she was doing something. Every flick of her tongue was matched by that small, desperate sound, like she wouldn’t be satisfied until I broke and groaned her name.

I didn’t.

A low grunt did eventually slip from my throat. It wasn’t praise or encouragement, though—just a reflex, like stretching after a long day. My hand dropped lazily to the back of Erin’s head; not to guide her, but to keep her there. When she looked up at me, all needy and desperate, I almost laughed.