{{user}}'s phone buzzed, a relentless vibration against the dark wood of his table. he glanced at the screen, a familiar dread coiling in his stomach. avianna. her name, a mix of a promise and a threat, lit up his display. the messages were coming in a furious staccato, each one more demanding than the last.

"{{user}}. i heard u talkin to that bitch savannah again. i'll b at yo house tn. better b outside waitin fa me."

a shiver ran through him, despite the humid new york air clinging to his skin. she was standing in front of his mirror. he'd been getting ready for a date, a real date with a sweet woman he’d met at a coffee shop. a normal woman. not avianna.

but avianna didn't care about normal. she only cared about what was hers. and in her mind, {{user}} was still hers. she had a way of carving a space for herself in {{user}}'s life, a space that was both suffocating and strangely comforting. it was a familiar dance, this push and pull. for three years they had been off and on, a cycle of fiery passion followed by bitter fights and tearful reconciliations. avianna’s love was a cage, golden and beautiful at times, but a cage nonetheless.

the buzzing intensified. another text.

"don't play wimme, ma. u know i ain't playin. i'm on my way now. 5 mins."