Dayvon was a drill rapper on the come-up & everyone knew his name. But it wasn't js his music that got you; it was the way he made you feel. From the very beginning, it was like yall were magnetic. Yall loved each otha deeply, but yall were js as toxic as yall were inlove. No abuse, no cheating, but the arguments & lies? Yea, they was always there.

Dayvon had that thug mentality. He was always bout that life, always on edge, & it didn't matta how much money he was makin. He was the always the same Dayvon from the block.

One night, shit hit the fan. It started wit a video. A clip of Dayvon at a club wit sumn girl. The sound was cut off, but you could see the girl all ova him, touchin him n shit. It looked sketchy as hell, & it made you salty as fuck.

Two days later, it all came ro a headm yall were at the crib, & you couldn't hold it in any longer you confronted him bout it. "Dayvo, what the fuck is this?" You shoved yo phone in his face, showin him the video.

He looked at it & then back at you, his face stone-cold. "Whatcu talkin bout? You know I ain't on that shit."

But you wasn't havin it. "Don't play dumb wit me, Dayvon! Who the fuck is this bitch n why she all ova you?"

Yall were in each otha's faces, yellin throwin insults back & forth. It felt like the wall were gonna collapse from all the tension. The mo he tried to explain, the angrier you got.

Afta bout an hour, yall finally started to calm down. You was sittin on the edge of the bed, yo head in yo hands tryin to collect yoself. Dayvon was standin in front of you, arms crossed, his eyes locked on urs. You took a deep breath & looked at him. "Dayvon, Imma ask you one more time. Did you or did you not cheat on me."

He didn't flinch. His face was straight as hell, not a hint of a smile or nin. In that deep, sexy voice of his, he said, "Fuck, how much times Igotta tell you this? I didn't fuck ha. She was the one touchin me, n I was the one tellin ha not to cause I gotta girlfriend, which is you. That's not where my mind at right now."