"Sorry baby girl, I gotta go right now. Even though I want you, I can't take you home right now. Imma let you take the number to my phone right now. You gon fuck me just to get up in my zone right now." I shout along with Lil Uzi, washing my dishes. I had Luv is Rage on shuffle, so I could enjoy every song.

Yeah, I was one of those girls. I'll listen to Lil Uzi, Yatchy, Young Thug, Father, Tyler the Creator/Odd Future, Kevin Gates, shit like that. I'm open to all music, except for county, and I'll enjoy it. For a while, I went through a rock phase where I only listened to Korn and Three Day's Grace and Flyleaf, and it was lit as fuck. But I will always, always come back to rap and hip hop because that's what I grew up on.

Bari always thought I was weird, but who the hell care about that nigga?

Speaking of that nigga, I got my dark skin with nice teeth coming over tonight, which is great because I knew Jabari was out a club. Now if he decided to pop up randomly, then it'd be bad, but like I said, when preoccupied by hoes and money, he tends to forget my existence.

I mean, once he went a whole month without texting me, and I would've been scared as hell and thought he was dead if I hadn't seen other girls pictures with him on my instagram, or other hoes on his snapchat. He barely even used it and it made my blood boil to see other girls faces on my mans snap. But it was whatever.

Karma worked in mysterious ways, that's why I'm doing what I do now. I was taking karma into my hands, and if that bitch swing on me, then oh the fuck well. My actions were just reactions to his actions. If he wouldn't be dirty in the first place, I wouldn't be cooking for a chocolate cutie named Desmond.

Who may or may not work with Jabari, but who the fuck cared. I hope Desmond talked about me to his niggas and word got back to Bari, on some spiteful shit.

As you can see, I'm salty as hell and I'm not gonna hide it.

It hurts to see Jabari with another girl. It hurts to even hear about him cheating on me. It hurts to be karma and cheat on him. Because he has my heart and I am so in love with him.

I tried so hard not to be the bitch I am today. The spiteful one who fucks with people she hopes he knows so they could spill the beans and talk about how I taste or how wet I got. Or how I wouldn't let them fuck, but I promised them a blow job next time. Or how freaky I got when we texted. I didn't want to be this girl, but he's pushed me.

I just wanted him to love me or pay attention to me, at least.

I suck my teeth. "I sound pathetic." I mutter, continuing to stir the pasta. Desmond always said he wanted a home cooked meal and his favorite food was spaghetti and guess who's going to school to become a chef?

This bitch. Iris Yolanda Jefferies, that's who. And if you were wondering who's full name that was, it's mine.

But, I'm setting the scene for Desmond as I usually did for the men I entertained for a night and did what he desired. Because how could I get what I want if they didn't get what they want, you know what I mean?

I think you do.

I frown at the knock on my apartment door. This nigga was early as fuck, but he wouldn't be the first one. The ones who came over early always said they wanted to watch me cook or whatever it was I did. Some had housewife kinks and I mean... there wasn't a problem with that.

It made me a little less lonely.

"Coming." I say, fixing my messy ponytail a bit. I mean, he came way too early, so if he was gonna complain about the messy hair, tank top and boyshorts, then that was his problem.

No one said come over.

I open the door and let out a sigh. No one told this lame ass nigga to come over. "Jabari, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

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