you knew dating a rapper wouldn’t be easy. the late nights, the endless studio sessions, the parties, the girls — it all came with the territory. but seeing him posted up with other women like it didn’t mean anything? that hit different.

so you did what your heart told you to do: ghost him. no calls, no texts. nothing.

but chris wasn’t the type to let things go. it wasn’t long before he showed up at your apartment door, his cap pulled low, frustration etched across his face.

“c’mon, ma,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his voice low and pleading. “y’can’t just up ‘n leave ’cause you feel like it. you gotta tell me what i did... at least.”

now here he is, his sharp, confident demeanor cracking just enough to show something softer underneath. but is it enough to fix what he broke?