“It’s not fair! He promised!”
“Life isn’t fair, baby girl.” Maple picked up her cup. “Take people’s word with a grain of salt. Learn from their actions, not their words. Your father is a liar and he’s shown you that time and time again. Remember that the next time you get your hopes up high.”
Blinking the memory away, Tyler closed her eyes as tears rolled down the sides of her face. She didn’t know why she got her hopes up high when she learned at an early age not to count her chickens before they hatched. Somehow, life tricked her into thinking she was finally going to be free when she had never been free a day in her life. The thought of venturing off and starting a new life sounded good, but deep down, Tyler knew that was never going to happen. Luck had never been on her side.
While she didn’t know what to expect her life to look like after Oakwood, this wasn’t it. Weeks had gone by since Tyler's life had been turned upside down, and it was safe to say she was still in shock. Bobbi was pregnant by Dexter, they wereliving in her high-rise, the label put out false information about her, Darryl robbed her blind, and Carla was the puppet master behind it all. Tyler couldn’t eat, she barely talked, and when no one was around, she cried until her tear ducts dried up and her throat burned. If it weren’t for all the sleep aid medicine and alcohol she consumed, Tyler would have lost her mind. Whenever she was awake, all she did was overthink and it was driving her crazy. Tyler didn’t know if she was crying about Dexter and Bobbi, her aunt, or her reputation. Either way, she was drained.
Media outlets of all sorts were reaching out left and right, trying to get her side of the story, but their requests went ignored. Tyler didn’t have anything to say because no matter what she said, people were going to twist her words and believe what they wanted. Trying to defend herself only made the situation worse. Day in and day out, Tyler scrolled the internet reading articles from people who didn’t know shit about her or her life. They made up stories about what led to her downfall. Some blamed it on her toxic childhood, others blamed Dexter, and then there were the few who claimed Tyler needed to take accountability for her actions.
Thanks to Darryl and Carla, Tyler was homeless, carless, broke, and no one wanted to work with her. All of her shows, studio sessions, and photoshoots had been canceled. Companies that she had worked with for years dropped her without explanation, ending brand deals on technicalities. In the blink of an eye, the world had turned on her, and Tyler was no longer the Detroit Princess of R&B. She was a druggie, a crash out, a bum bitch, and every other term ever made to deter a person’s confidence. All of her hard work and accolades didn’t mean a thing.
Then there was Dex. After Tyler beat him up at the studio, the police were called, and he told them he wanted to press charges. Dexter didn’t care how weak he looked. Tyler had literally beat his ass up and down the studio and the shit was caught on camera. Things took a turn for the worse when Dexter tried to console Bobbi. Tyler snapped. She slipped from the officer’s hold and stabbed Dexter in the shoulder with a pair of scissors. Even after she was tackled to the ground, Tyler was still screaming and fighting to get loose. Shane and Aria pleaded with her to calm down, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. Tyler wasn’t herself. Spit was flying from her mouth, her eyes were bloodshot red, and it was almost as if she had developed the strength of ten men. The only way the officers could subdue her was by taser. The electric volts shocked Tyler’s nervous system and left her lying on the ground with a blank gaze in her eyes. Tyler spent two weeks in jail before she was granted bail and put on tether. As a condition of her release, Tyler wasn’t allowed to be within 500 feet of Dexter.
“Ty,” Shane whispered, lying next to her. He had been talking to her for twenty minutes and Tyler hadn’t uttered a word. Although she was next to him, her mind was a million miles away. “Ty.” Shane waved his hand in her face. “Bitch, you better say something before I throw some water on your ass. I know you in there.”
“Hm,” Tyler answered, blinking a few times to clear the tears that blurred her vision.
“I think you need to get up and move around. It’s been a month, and we’re worried. You’re not eating, and if DoorDash drops off another bottle of Hennessy, I'm going to spray they ass with the water hose. They shouldn’t even be delivering liquor. I’mma report they ass.”
“I’m not hungry.” Tyler rolled over on her side.
“Friend, you gotta eat something. It’s been days, and I have a flight tonight. I can’t leave you knowing that you are not eating,” Shane pleaded, scooting closer to her, draping his arm around her waist.
“I’m fine, go catch your flight. I’ll be ok.”
“I don’t believe you, hoe. All you do is sleep and I’m getting worried.”
“I’m fine, Shane. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Girl, hush. It’s my job to worry about your crazy ass. This situation is crazy, but you can’t just lay here and get blacked out drunk.”
“But that’s all I want to do,” Tyler sniffled as tears filled her eyes. “My life is so fucked up right now and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know where to start.”
“Don’t cry.” Shane hugged her.
“I’m-I’m losing my mind. I keep trying to pinpoint when shit started spiraling. Like, when did I become so blind to the point where Bobbi slid her snake ass into my relationship and started fucking my nigga? When did I become so naïve that I started letting Carla handle shit without asking to see paperwork? Like seriously, my apartment? My truck?” She questioned more to herself than him. “This is why I’ve been sleeping. If I'm sleeping, I can’t cry.”
“You can’t bathe either, huh?” Shane tooted up his nose.
“Don’t make me laugh.” Tyler elbowed him. She knew she was a little ripe, but after a couple of shots, she couldn’t smell a thing.
“I’m just saying, friend, it’s getting a lil spicy in here, and as much as I love you, I love these 800-thread-count sheets more. Go wash your ass so we can go get some food.”
“Can I just eat a couple of crackers? I’ll order some with my next DoorDash.”
“No, bitch. Wash your ass, put on some clothes. We’re going to Brunch Avenue.”
“I don’t wanna go out.”
“Come on, friend, you need to get out of the house. I’m talking to my lawyer friend-
“Frienddddd?” Tyler arched her eyebrow.
“Ok, bitch, he blowing my back out, sucking my toes, and eating a bitch up like a five-star meal,” Shane overshared. “But in the midst of our back-breaking sessions, I pick his brain about your situation.”
“He suck those toes?” Tyler glanced down at his white toenails. “Attached to those big ass feet? I mean that’s like sucking a Blow Pop and not the little one either. Your big toe is huge, friend... I mean like huge, huge!”
“First of all, fuck you,” Shane snickered. “And yea, he suck my toes and everything else. He said we have a good case, but you know Darryl’s old ass playing dirty.”
