Now playing: The Homie - PHABO

Smoke’s never let on how much he notices things other people miss. Like the way your phone lights up and you smile just a little too long. Or how you casually mention your “friend” is back in town this week, like that word doesn’t mean anything.

You say he’s just your homie. Someone you grew up with. Someone you haven’t seen in years. You tell Smoke you’re gonna go pick him up, grab food, catch up. No big deal.

Smoke trusts you. He really does. But trust don’t mean being blind.

While you’re getting ready, Smoke can’t even focus on the book in his hands. He closes it gently and sets down his reading glasses before he starts talking.

“You gon be safe today?” he asks finally. He already knows where you’re going with your “friend.” He has your location on his phone and his on yours for your safety. “I ain’t sayin’ you gon do sumn that’s outta yo character. I’m just saying… don’t make me look stupid.”

There’s history in his voice. Want. Fear. Something deeper he won’t name. You’ve always been his. His lover. His peace.

He just didn’t want it all to go to shit if another man, who he didn’t trust, tried something with you while he wasn’t there. It terrified him.