they were hungry

 i walked in and they felt it.

not just saw me — felt me.

every head turned like instinct.

the kind of silence that happens

when energy walks before you do.


they were older. confident.

the type that don’t look twice unless you give them a reason.

but tonight i was the reason.

one told me she loved my beard.

another said my earrings looked good.

the other loved my shirt.

another loved my fit.

back and forth compliments bouncing off each other.

one grabbed my arm, laughed,

said, “you smell so yummy.”

and the way she said it —

it wasn’t playful. it was hungry.


their eyes said what their mouths wouldn’t.

they wanted to touch, to feel,

to taste what presence feels like up close.

not the kid version of me —

the man who grew out of the fire.

the man who built calm into his confidence.


i didn’t have to do a thing.

no lines. no act.

just stood there,

owning the space without asking for it.

and i watched it happen —

the way laughter turned into stares,

how curiosity turned into tension.


they called themselves my “mommies,”

joking, teasing, testing.

but underneath it all was truth —

they wanted what they couldn’t name.

they wanted me.

and it wasn’t about looks.

it was about frequency.


tonight proved what i already knew:

i’m not chasing.

i’m choosing.

and when i show up,

the world adjusts.


they were hungry —

but i was fed long before i walked in. 

tonight confirmed one thing.

this is just a taste for what’s yet to come,

starboy.


— Mr. Mak


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