Page 13 of Beyond The Stars

“I wish my people wanted to see me graduate. That’s a beautiful thing.”

“It ain’t though. It’s like I can’t have my own identity.”

Her shoulders dropped with a sigh. “I’ll take that over having to save everyone.”

“I would rather have to save a muthafucka than to have all the pressure to be perfect.” His sigh matched hers.

They were different but the same in the way of feeling like the world was resting on their shoulders.

Qamar hated how people thought the money made his life perfect—sadness proof. That was the furthest from the truth. Beneath the glimmering surface of wealth and fame, he felt like a prisoner in a gilded cage, each bar forged from expectations and scrutiny. He loved the opportunities his famous family afforded him, yet the weight of their legacy pressed down on him like a heavy shroud, suffocating his spirit. Every misstep was magnified and scrutinized under the harsh glare of public opinion, turning minor mistakes into catastrophic events that left him gasping for air amidst the thick fog of shame and judgment.

At just twenty, all he craved was the simple freedom to live like a regular young adult, to make mistakes without the world watching and waiting to pounce. Yes, he was a father now, which came with its own set of responsibilities that anchored him to reality, but that didn’t extinguish the flickering flame of desire for a taste of that carefree life he once knew. Qamar longed for moments where he could let go, where laughter didn’t come with an asterisk of obligation, and where he could simply be himself—unfiltered and unashamed. The world outside beckoned with promises of adventure, and he yearned to break free, if only for a fleeting moment, to reclaim the essence of who he was before the world decided who he should be.

The mood had thickened. Siasia wanted to loosen it so she lightened the mood by asking, “If you could pick one song that reflected where you are or where you want to be what would it be?”

Without hesitating, Qamar grabbed his phone. After a few seconds, SiR’s West Coast, melodic voice crooned out of the speaker. “Baby, I’m just trying to let my hair down,” he sung as best he could. Music was in his DNA from his sister which meant older acts like SiR were in heavy rotation for him. His music pallet was diverse.

Siasia pulled her braids to the top of her head, creating a messy makeshift bun. She was floating and needed to lay back to stop her head from spinning. “What you know about that?” Her voice came out sluggish.

“You feeling good, huh,” Qamar stated without question. He could tell by the look in her eyes and the silly smile on her lips that didn’t want to leave.

Instead of responding, she only smiled with a slight nod of her head.

Adjusting his legs, he placed her head on his legs. He’d been wanting her to get closer since they stepped in his room. Her skin looked soft and he wanted to see if it was.

“Your turn. One song to describe who you are and how you feel.” He passed her his phone to find a song.

Siasia didn’t flinch when his rough hand glided down her exposed belly, causing it to drop like she was on a roller coaster. Sucking in the air from her stomach gave Qamar the perfect spot to slide his hand down her sweatpants.

The heat radiated from the warmth between her thighs. “Play the song, Siasia.”

Her hands shook and the thumping of her heart grew louder. Searching for the perfect song, she almost skipped over it when she felt his hand on her bare mound. Subtly, she spread her legs, granting him permission.

“Oo,” she whined when his middle finger made small slow circles over her growing clit.

Jhene Aiko’s Nobody played right as his finger dipped into her pussy, hitting the right spot on contact.

“This pussy warm and wet, just like I like it.” Qamar gave her direct eye contact.

“Been dealing with this venomous rage. Since I was under the age. I’ve been under the influence of pain. And I never needed nobody,” Siasia sung with her eyes closed.

Qamar heard her loud and clear but if he had it his way, she’d need him. He wanted to be needed and needed to be wanted. He was a complex soul. So much so, he felt no one really knew him. He had different faces that he put on around different people, hoping they’d never see the cracks in the masks he wore. He was only free with his daughter. Esmeray understood her daddy. She carried his secrets, protecting them at a young age.

“Come here.” He removed his hand.

Panting, she looked at him like he was crazy. She was right there on the edge of bliss and he had the nerve to stop. Her perfectly arched brows crinkled.

“Come here, girl.” Qamar laughed while guiding her to where he wanted her to be. Her hands reached to pull out his aching dick. “Nah. Just come here… you ain’t getting no dick tonight.”

“Why?” she whined. If he was going to rile her up but not put out the fire, what was the point? “I’m so horny.”

“I know,” he said in a hushed tone, turning her around so that her back was facing him while her leg hooked around his thigh like a backwards J.

Siasia chewed on her lip when his hand was back inside her soaking wet panties. “Yes,” she moaned when his long finger was back inside of her, stroking her insides like a skilled pianist.

With his free arm, he pulled her further into him. “I want to make you feel so good. Am I doing my job?”

She nodded.

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