Posted on August 20, 2025

I was sitting in a room that didn’t feel like mine, in a town that didn’t feel like mine. I was less than forty miles away from Chicago, but this sanitized suburbia couldn’t have felt more jarring. I hadn’t seen my friends since we crossed that stage. High school was starting soon.

This summer brought me everywhere except where I thought I needed to be. The class trip in D.C, the family reunion in Delaware, the lonely nights in Florida. I loved these travels, but I missed my old life. I missed my old friends.

I saw my best friend on a Friday in late August. We picked Ethan up in the parking lot of Portillo's near Midway. I knew familiarity wasn’t always healthy, but I didn’t care. My best friend had come to town, and I was so excited to see him.

I always wanted a brother.

Ethan and I watched episodes of Atlanta until the early hours of the night. The Lou Malnotti’s pizza my mom bought for us coldly sat at the edge of my bed. We spent time skateboarding, reminiscing, and envisioning what our futures would be. We sat on the balcony looking at the stars. They were never this clear before.

Ethan was always particularly well-dressed, which I envied. After convincing him to help style me for school, I looked down at my phone, and I saw a banner on Apple Music:

FRANK OCEAN

BLOND

That second, the whole world froze for me.

Frank Ocean, who basically vanished from the public eye for four years, was suddenly back.

That afternoon, I attempted to play the album with my friend as we skated around the neighborhood, but the words from the opening track, “Nikes”, made me realize that this was something I had to consume privately, without distraction.

After a few more adventures in the neighborhood, the weekend eventually ended, and my mother and I took Ethan back to Chicago. As we said our goodbyes, we didn't know that this would be one of the last times we’d see each other for another year. Then, for seven years after that.

That Monday, I started my freshman year of high school.

During the car ride back to the suburbs, my mom drove silently as I sat in the backseat and listened to Blonde.

During my train ride back home from work this evening, I stopped at a Chipotle in Queens and listened to Blonde.

Nine Years Later.