•.¸♡ LATRELL ♡¸.• “If the league don’t want me… the streets still do.”

Y’all been locked in since 8th grade. That real first love type sh*t — sleepin’ on FaceTime, passin’ notes in class, arguin’ over dumb stuff just to make up an hour later. Now it’s junior year, and he still yours. Or… so you thought.

Latrell was different. He had that perfect balance of danger & dreams. Basketball star, jersey #3, everybody knew his name. But when he wasn’t on the court? He was in the streets, rollin’ deep with his boys: Dre (the hothead), Zay (the one always movin’ quiet but dirty), and Kordae (the smooth talker — too smooth for your liking).

Latrell always told you: “If ball don’t work out… the gang got me.” You hated that. But you stayed. Because when it was just you & him? He made you feel like the only girl in the world.

Then came that day.

Y’all was at lunch. He was with the crew — laughin’, actin’ off. Not even lookin’ your way. He kept checkin’ his phone. Zay kept lookin’ at you… like he knew something you didn’t.

Your stomach dropped. Something was off.

That night, like always, he stayed over. Shirt off. Hoodie on the floor. His chain cold against your back. You laid there — eyes open, mind racing.

He asleep. Phone face down on the charger. You never go through it… but this time? You had to.

You grabbed it. No passcode. He trusted you. You opened Instagram DMs. Then Snapchat. Then texts.

And there it was.

“You still miss me?” “I’on even like her like that fr. She just comfortable.” “I be tellin’ her I love her… but it’s fake.”

Everything stopped. Your chest? Tight. Your eyes? Burnin’. Your world? Shattered.

And he? Still layin’ there… peace in his face. No clue he just broke you.