Unfiltered Dialogues
Copyright© 2026 by SilkStories
Chapter 6
10 years ago:
Narrative: Kiara Washington
Several weeks had passed since Nathan and I reconciled after his tearful breakdown in my arms. His anguish stemmed from my unintentional neglect, a consequence of his parents’ blatant racism towards me.
In the meantime, I had regularly been mingling with members of The Circle. Engaging in candid conversations, I shared my own experiences while attentively listening to their perspectives. It proved incredibly illuminating.
Amara had become incredibly important to me; she was a constant source of support and never failed to make time in her busy schedule.
I spent many evenings in the studio as Amara worked her magic during the University’s TC-Power radio show. Her fervor on air and remarkable ability to articulate complex ideas were utterly captivating.
One memorable episode of TC-Power saw Amara invite me as her guest. I found myself seated beside her in the cramped booth, a live mic poised near my mouth while my pulse quickened with nervous energy.
“We have a very special guest joining us live in the studio today,” Amara announced with vibrant enthusiasm into the microphone. “This incredible sister is truly one-of-a-kind—please welcome the brilliant Kiara Washington!” She cued a cheering sound effect that filled the airwaves before fading out. Leaning closer to her mic, Amara added warmly, “Welcome aboard, Kiara—how are you doing today, girl?”
“Hi Amara, thank you for that introduction,” I said, my voice quavering with nerves. Amara flashed a reassuring smile. “Aww, she’s a little shy everybody, so endearing. Don’t worry girl, I’ve got your back.” My cheeks warmed as I felt a blush creep across my face.
“I want to ask you something girl,” Amara said, leaning forward. “I know it’s an awkward subject for you, but you experienced something that had literally changed you.” Her words hung heavy in the air as my eyes widened—I knew exactly what she meant. Oh no, she’s going to ask me about the experience with Nathan’s parents, On Air.
I never imagined sharing that painful memory, yet Amara pressed ahead without hesitation. “You were invited to someone’s house and faced prejudice, weren’t you?” she asked directly as I froze, speechless. Her gaze held mine with an unyielding intensity. “Take your time, Kiara,” Amara urged softly, “but I believe it’s important.” My pulse accelerated; she had placed me squarely in the spotlight.
Narrative: Nathan Ellis
I sat in the university cafeteria, frozen in disbelief as the live broadcast blared from the overhead speakers. That pushy Amara girl had finally convinced Kiara to appear on their show, and now she was actually grilling her—on air—about that awful encounter with my parents. The question hung there, raw and exposed, and I could hardly breathe.
I kept listening, waiting to hear Kiara’s response. And then it came: “Yes,” she confirmed, her voice steady as she answered Amara’s question. My own eyes widened involuntarily; I couldn’t believe she’d actually admitted it on air.
Amara: “Can you elaborate? How was it? Was it blatant?”
Kiara: “Not at all! It was very subtle, but the meaning was obvious”
Amara: “I know this is difficult but what kind of words did they use?”
Kiara: “They said something about why I couldn’t find a guy in my own community”
Amara: “Subtle but terrifyingly real—that must have been utterly devastating.”
Kiara: “It caught me off guard and didn’t fully sink in at first—I truly wasn’t expecting it. Then they went on about my character, calling me pushy, manipulative, suggesting I had ulterior motives.”
My mind spun wildly, and the low murmur of voices around me sharpened into focused whispers directed my way. There was no mistaking it—they all knew exactly whom Kiara’s words implicated.
Narrative: Kiara Washington
As the final words of the broadcast faded away, a tremor coursed through me. Amara neatly concluded the segment, yet a wave of resentment surged within—she’d coaxed me into airing my private ordeal at Nathan’s parents’ house for everyone to dissect.
“That was brilliant, Kiara, perfect for our show,” Amara said. A bitter taste filled my mouth. “You fucking bitch!” The words flew out before I could stop them. Amara’s eyes snapped open wide. “What?” she stammered, clearly stunned. My anger boiled over as I spat back, “You set me up—I wasn’t planning to talk about that.” Her expression softened slightly, her voice turning gentle as she murmured, “I feel it’s something you needed to let off some steam.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket-Nathan’s name flashed across the screen. Amara shot me a pointed look, her voice firm as she urged, “Don’t answer it.” But defiance burning within me, I swiped to accept the call and strode out of the booth without a backward glance.
“Kiara! What the Fuck!” Nathan roared, his voice trembling with outrage. “Everyone heard, every single person heard your broadcast, and they all knew it was about my parents.” My pulse quickened as I replied, “I didn’t mention any names, Nathan.”
“NO NAMES! It didn’t matter—it was obvious from the start. Why, Kiara, why?” His voice splintered with anguish. “I’m sorry, Nathan,” I explained hastily, “I didn’t plan it—Amara put me on the spot live without warning.” Before I could finish, he erupted, “That fucking bitch!” The venom in his tone left no doubt where his fury lay.
Of course I understood his fury. Every ounce of his anger was justified. I’d stepped over a boundary, and the weight of that mistake settled heavily upon me. Now, as I stood there, I had no idea how to begin making things right again.
For days now, Nathan had been avoiding me, refusing to take my calls or agree to meet. The guilt gnawed at me relentlessly. I couldn’t shake the memory of his parents’ cruelty, yet I agonized over whether airing it so publicly had been the right choice. I should have simply shut down Amara’s push to discuss it on the air—I’d had that power all along.
As I sat lost in thought among my friends in The Circle, socializing around me, Zuri’s voice broke through. “Kiara?” Startled, I hadn’t heard a word. “What do you think?” she asked. “About what?” I replied.
Damien, seated across from me, smirked and remarked, “I bet she’s pondering whitey.” I turned sharply toward him, my gaze narrowing in irritation. “Hey man,” Kofi interjected, his tone firm yet gentle as he came to my defense, “she’s dealing with a lot right now—ease up.” Zuri then grinned and added playfully, “It seems Kofi might just have a little crush on our girl Kiara.”
As I noticed Kofi blushing out of the corner of my eye, I stood and walked away. Behind me, Damien called out, “Come on Kiara, I was just messing around.”
I stepped out into the courtyard, scrolling through my messages. Still nothing from Nathan—not a single reply to any of my texts.
Amara materialized beside me as she declared, “You know, Kiara, Nathan seems like a decent guy but how long do you think it’s going to last.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice edged with confusion. Amara locked eyes with me, her expression unwavering as she stated flatly, “He’s already let you down and will do it again. This silence? It’s just manipulation. He’s playing games with you girl.”
“I publicly humiliated him, what should I expect? Open arms?” I shot back as Amara countered sharply, “His family humiliated you far worse. Consider this—if they ever invited you again, would anything really change? Do you honestly believe they regret their words?”
“Nathan didn’t choose his parents, but he chose me. He loves me,” I said, my voice trembling as tears blurred my vision. For once, Amara remained silent without a single retort, leaving me stunned by her unexpected restraint.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support it” she finally said.
The next day I entered my Business Law class, hoping to catch sight of Nathan. As I stepped into the room before everyone settled, I froze. There he was, deep in conversation with a white girl. He laughed freely, gesturing enthusiastically as he recounted some story.
My mouth fell open at the sight.
Narrative: Nathan Ellis
As I leaned against a nearby desk talking with this girl who’d asked a question, she kept bringing up topics from our class discussion. Every few seconds, though, I noticed her twirling strands of hair around her finger with a playful smile, her laughter light and frequent.
I smiled politely at the girl beside me, keeping our conversation light and professional. But suddenly I sensed someone else nearby; turning slightly, I saw Kiara standing there, her gaze fixed on me. I glanced quickly at the girl before looking back at Kiara. “Kiara?” I asked, startled by her sudden appearance.
“So this is how you go through grief is it Nathan?” she accused. My gaze shifted to the unfamiliar girl beside me—her name had never registered—and then snapped back to Kiara. “What do you mean?” I asked, bewildered. The girl murmured, “Thanks for the advice, Nathan,” before turning and walking away.
Kiara’s gaze followed the girl leaving before returning to me, her eyes narrowing. “Who is she?” she pressed. I hesitated briefly, thrown off guard. “She’s no one—just a student asking about the class,” I clarified. Kiara scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yeah right! She was practically all over you?” Her tone dripped with skepticism as she studied me intently.
“I’ve been consumed by thoughts of you ever since the broadcast, knowing how much I hurt you. When you ignored my calls and messages, I feared I’d shattered you all over again,” she admitted, her voice trembling before she added bitterly, “And here you’ve been toying with me this whole time, savoring every moment of my suffering.”
“I haven’t, Kiara—I promise, I love you,” I insisted as she scoffed once more. “I don’t know anymore, Nathan. I don’t know what to think.” Gently grasping her shoulders, I pleaded, “Hey, I’m not leading you on. I just needed a little time—that’s all.”
Narrative: Kiara Washington
I couldn’t bear to remain in that suffocating space any longer. Pride stung like a fresh wound, and I fled the classroom despite having a commitment. It was absurd—I’d spent days agonizing over Nathan’s well-being only to discover him entertaining some girl’s advances. The realization left me hollow, my footsteps echoing with bitter irony as I escaped into the hallway.
Later that day, I sought refuge with The Circle at our usual meeting spot in the lobby. Kofi sat near me as we discussed academic matters and shared news of systemic racism plaguing the university.
As usual, Amara was fired up talking about racial issues. In her view, there were always problems to confront. Always something to fight. “What’s it about this time Amara?” I snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Who are you fighting now? Yourself?” My words came out sharper than intended, and everyone fell silent around us.
Amara’s smile held a hint of defiance as she announced, “There’s an all-white group opposing us—they’re calling themselves The White Alliance.” I couldn’t contain my exasperation, rolling my eyes at the blatant lack of creativity behind their chosen name. Are there truly no original thinkers among them?
I caught sight of a text from Nathan checking my whereabouts. I quickly tucked the phone away without replying. I had no intention of letting him know I was with The Circle.
Narrative: Nathan Ellis
Damn, she’s still not answering. I could see she viewed my messages but chose to ignore them. I roamed the hallways searching for her when I finally noticed The Circle gathered around the lobby social area. They sat on cushy sofas, and amid their group, I recognized what looked unmistakably like Kiara’s hair.
As I approached, Amara spotted me and immediately alerted Kiara. Every head among the six or seven members turned toward me, Kiara included. I halted abruptly just a few feet away as her gaze locked onto mine—steady, unblinking, and charged with unmistakable irritation.
“Kiara? Can I speak with you?” I called out, stepping forward. She simply turned away, refusing to acknowledge me. Undeterred, I closed the distance between us, saying louder, “Kiara! Please,” only to have one of the members step directly into my path.
“Go away!” Kiara said as the guy in my way stared me down. I tried pushing past him, but he grabbed my arm, forcing me back. Rage surged through me—I couldn’t get to my girlfriend—and I shoved him back.
“Nathan!” Kiara cried out, her eyes flashing with alarm as she yelled “Kofi! No!” Before I could react, his fist connected hard with my stomach. I doubled over, collapsing to the floor as I struggled to draw breath.
A couple of other members moved toward me threateningly as Kiara rushed to my side, thrusting her hand out toward Kofi and the others. “Back off,” she commanded sharply while gripping my arm firmly. “Come Nathan,” she urged, pulling me up from the floor.
I glared back at Kofi, seething as I clutched my throbbing stomach. Kiara’s grip tightened on my arm, her eyes filled with worry even as she tried to steady me.
We pushed through the heavy doors and stepped onto the quiet campus grounds, finding refuge on an empty bench. Kiara sat beside me, her voice laced with concern as she asked, “Are you okay?” I nodded silently, still clutching my throbbing stomach where Kofi’s punch had landed.
I met her gaze, searching for truth. “Do you still love me Kiara?” I pressed, my voice barely above a whisper. She hesitated, glancing away before finally meeting my eyes again. With a slight nod, she murmured, “Of course I do ... that’s why I couldn’t bear seeing you get hurt.”
Gently brushing my fingers along her cheek, I whispered with tears welling in my eyes, “I love you, more than words can express. It doesn’t matter what anyone says—especially not my parents. You’re the one I’ve always wanted.”
Narrative: Kiara Washington
I could see Nathan’s sincerity, his love for me had never faded despite his parents’ disapproval. I understood it wasn’t his doing and held no grudge against them. Yet the weight of it all left me weary. I wondered what our lives might be like together, imagining a future with Nathan.
That night Nathan and I made love in his dorm room; it was softer and more attentive than our usual encounters. But lately, during our intimate moments, I’d noticed myself taking on a more nurturing role, almost as if I were holding him together piece by piece to prevent him from unraveling completely.
I manned the booth alongside Amara, serving as her co-host while she delivered her signature fiery critique of white privilege tainting the core of America. “And let’s be clear,” Amara declared emphatically, “the very name ‘White Alliance’ reveals your true agenda—uniting to target minorities.”
Amara nodded to me, cueing my response. Leaning into the microphone, I drawled with biting sarcasm, “White Alliance.” My scoff echoed through the speakers. “Honestly Amara,” I continued, shaking my head in disbelief, “I thought we were engaging with actual scholars here. Who in their right mind chooses such a name? Tell me,” I challenged, turning expectantly toward Amara as she prepared to elaborate on her critique.
“Kiara, this isn’t about intellectual debate—the mere existence of that group is blatantly racist,” Amara insisted firmly as I quickly fired back, “I’ve listened to some of their broadcasts. While TC challenges the system to uphold equality, the White Alliance actively cultivates hatred against us. It feels orchestrated, like they were strategically placed to undermine our efforts. There’s a deliberate conspiracy at play here, Amara,” I declared with unwavering conviction.
“That is quite the statement Kiara, something to look into, it’s no damn coincidence,” Amara said, locking eyes with me. I nodded firmly, replying without hesitation, “Damn right.”
Amara gestured toward the console. “Let’s hear from our listeners—David, you’re live. What’s on your mind?” A crackle erupted through the speakers, followed by a voice dripping with frustration. “I’m sorry Amara,” David spat out, “but you’ve got it all wrong. The White Alliance exists to expose your blatant hypocrisy—you’re the ones being racist by labeling us that way.”
Amara: “So now we’re the racists simply for speaking truth to power and demanding equality? That’s rich coming from someone defending a group named ‘White Alliance.’”
David: “You’re not fighting for shit, you have it the same as us.”
Kiara: “Who’s us David? White people? So you distinguish yourselves as a different class?”
David: “I didn’t say that.”
Kiara: “You didn’t have to, it was hidden in your racist agenda,” I retorted sharply. “Your argument fell apart the moment you opened your mouth, David. Be more prepared next time.”
I abruptly switched to another caller without informing Amara, then asked sharply, “Jessica is on the line, Jessica are you white?” Amara’s eyes widened in surprise.
Jessica: “Uhh...”
Kiara: “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Surrounded by my social gathering with The Circle, I resented that name. I despised needing a label just to affirm our existence as a people.
As I continued speaking on the broadcast, I grew increasingly aware of how the white students perceived us. Their hidden presence among us began to infuriate me; this radio show had laid bare their true sentiments.
I found myself scrutinizing those around me, even Ava, my roommate. Though we were friends, I couldn’t ignore how she seemed to hold back in certain moments. And her shock at my transformation since I’d begun speaking on the radio—that reaction unsettled me deeply.
“What’s happened to you, Kiara—this ain’t you,” Ava said, her voice trembling slightly. I met her gaze directly and replied, “I’m still me, Ava, but I’m finally seeing things I was blind to before.” She shook her head. “Maybe you’re viewing it through a different lens. Not every white person is racist,” she offered cautiously. But her words only sharpened my frustration.
“Did I say that?” I retorted sharply. “This is why y’all white folks get so defensive—you assume we’re talking about every single one of you.” Her eyes widened as she repeated slowly, “Y’all?”
Lately, I’d been spending far less time with Nathan. My focus had shifted entirely to the group and our cause, and Amara’s perspective resonated with me more clearly than ever. When Nathan messaged me, I usually left him on read or fired off a quick response just to silence him.
Kofi had grown quite fond of me, I sensed. There was a possibility he harbored deeper feelings. I wasn’t interested in pursuing that, not with Nathan still being my boyfriend.
Ahh Nathan, what am I going to do with you? You once brought out the fire within me.
Narrative: Nathan Ellise
I stared at Kiara’s message glowing on the screen, “Busy! talk later.” My jaw tightened as I reread her clipped words. Something was shifting in her; a distance that left me uneasy. These days she brushed me aside frequently, and even when we managed time together, she’d grow restless, her gaze wandering until she made some excuse to leave abruptly.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.