And if Kay’Lo walked in right now and saw me that nigga would remember exactly why he shouldn’t have gone ghost on me.
He’d remember what it felt like to have me riding him, shaking on his dick and calling his name while I came on his dick.
I didn’t let my mind sit on that too long though because I didn’t want my energy dropping. I poured myself another drink, pressed my lips around the straw, and let the alcohol settle in my chest while Dream pulled me closer so we could take a video together. We posed, laughed, and threw our tongues out, and then she snapped another one of us dancing for her story.
The night moved fast like that. It was laughter, liquor, music, compliments, shots, and more niggas trying to squeeze themselves into our space. I played along because it was fun and because it fed the part of me that needed to feel wanted, but deep down something was still tugging at me, reminding me that nobody in this room was who I wanted.
When the club lights flickered bright signaling last call, a few niggas tried their luck again by asking for my number. I smiled and told them I didn’t give my number out when I was drunk, even though that was a damn lie. I just wasn’t giving my number to niggas I’d forget about as soon as I walked out the door.
The valet pulled my car around once we stepped outside. The line of cars honked and rolled out slowly, and the night air cooled the sweat on my chest while I dug in my purse for my keys. Mia hugged me, Dream told me she’d text when she made it home, and we all split off in different directions.
By the time I got home, the silence felt like it was waiting for me.
I tossed my purse on the couch and headed straight for my bedroom because the club glow was wearing off, leaving only the truth settling under my skin.
I crawled across my bed and sank into the pillows, letting my legs stretch while I reached for my phone. My heart beat a little faster and it irritated me because no nigga had ever had me like this.
I opened Instagram, and his page came up instantly because I had searched it too many times this week.
He wasn’t active. He hadn’t posted anything.
He hadn’t done a damn thing except let me wonder if he even remembered my ass.
I let out a slow breath, pulled up his messages, and stared at the empty thread.
He wasn’t gonna ignore me forever.
My thumbs hovered over the screen for a second, then I typed the message slow, letting my confidence guide me because Echo Lennox didn’t chase niggas, she just reminded them what they were missing.
You forgot about me already?
I read it twice, then hit send before I could think too hard about it.
A piece of my pride felt like it tightened, but I ignored it.
Now that I had stepped back into his presence, there was no way he was gonna pretend he didn’t feel that shit.
He was gon’ answer me. Maybe not tonight or not in the next hour, but he was gon’ answer.
Kay’Lo wasn’t done with me, and now that I made the first move, he wasn’t gonna be able to stay quiet for long.
Drahma Town
It was just me and Pressure chillin’ tonight, and the whole setup felt loud but quiet at the same damn time.
We was in a strip club tucked in the cut. Bitches slid down poles with oil on they thighs and glitter on they skin, and niggas all around us was damn near droolin’.
Me and Pressure was leaned back in our section with bottles, weed laid out on the table, and both our minds somewhere else.
Pressure was breakin’ down some loud, tappin’ the tray with his finger and rollin’. I had a short crystal glass in my hand, starin’ into the liquor like maybe it was gon’ help me fix the mess my wife and I was in.
“Toni still ain’t hit you?” Pressure asked without even lookin’ up.
“Nah,” I muttered, draggin’ my palm down my face ‘cause the shit was startin’ to weigh on me. “And I’m tryna give her space, but it feel like the more space I give, the more she back up from me. She don’t talk to me. She don’t text. She don’t do shit but make me feel like I’m sittin’ outside my own life.”
Pressure lit the blunt slow, inhaled deep, and let the smoke move out of his mouth lazy. He passed it to me and spoke with that calm, dark voice he used when he was tryin’ not to let his own emotions show.
“You gon’ have to go to therapy, ‘Lo,” he said.
